Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 329

Payable On Death by Rachel Rawlings

Payable On DeathThe Jax Rhodes SeriesBook OneRachel Rawlings
Print Length: 207 pages
Publication Date: April 5, 2016
ASIN: B01C1U2TZ0
Genre: New Adult Urban Fantasy
Book Description:
A deal with the Devil. Demons haunting your every step. When an Angel offers you the chance to redeem yourself, you take it. Because eternal damnation isn't all it's cracked up to be.
But the Devil always gets his due.
On the streets of Baltimore redemption is..... Payable On Death.

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FORWARDHell.Some people say there is a HellWhere wicked souls are doomed to go.But this, by others, is denied,Who hold there is no Hell below.I've often heard the place describedBy certain preachers in my day,And trembled like an aspen leaf,As they its horrors did portray.
That such a place does not existI will not undertake to say;Nor, from the knowledge I possess,Can I assert the other way.That there's a Hell, or that there's not,Is more than mortal man can know;And in the soul's eternal flightThere's none can say where it shall go.
Were I to say there is a Hell,Can I, with proof, support the plea?Did I allege there's no such place?How can I prove it so to be? J. H. Stevenson 1890
Have you ever found yourself at a crossroads? You can't go forward, you can't go back. There's only bad and worse. Those were the options facing me the day I sold my soul to the Devil. Sure, it seems like a bad decision now, but at seventeen I thought it was my only salvation. I've spent every day since trying to earn my soul back and reserve my spot in Heaven because eternal damnation isn't all it's cracked up to be.
About the Author:
Rachel Rawlings was born and raised in the Baltimore Metropolitan area. Her family, originally from Rhode Island, spent summers in New England sparking her fascination with Salem, MA. She has been writing fictional stories and poems since middle school, but it wasn't until 2009 that she found the inspiration to create her heroine Maurin Kincaide and complete her first full length novel, The Morrigna.
When she isn't writing, Rachel can often be found with her nose buried in a good book. An avid reader of Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, Horror and Steampunk herself, Rachel founded Hallowread- an interactive convention for both authors and fans of those genres.
More information on Hallowread, its schedule of events and participating authors can be found at www.hallowread.blogspot.com  and www.facebook.com/Hallowread .
She still lives in Maryland with her husband and three children.
www.rachelrawlings.com
www.authorrachelrawlings.com
www.twitter.com/@rachelsbooks
www.facebook.com/themaurinkincaideseries
www.facebook.com/hallowread
www.tsu.co/@rachelsbooks
www.hallowread.com  
Goodreads  Author Page http://goo.gl/FZW0RN
Amazon Author Page http://goo.gl/Q6Ubn1

Can’t Forget by Colleen S. Myers

The Solum series explained in haiku’s (really bad ones.)

Stolen from home
What happened to her unknown Must Remember (11/15)
New world to explore.


Winter’s passed
A new journey’s begun Can’t Forget (6/16)
War has come.

Battles fought
Friends lost and friends found Distant Memory (1/17)
Something’s coming.

For a sneak peak of Distant memory, simply join my newsletter.  
Also, join the book tour for a chance at a 25$ gift card from amazon!


Can’t ForgetSolum SeriesBook TwoColleen S. Myers
Genre: Science Fiction Romance
Publisher: Champagne Books
Date of Publication:  June 6th, 2016
Number of pages: 253Word Count: 82,000
Cover Artist: Elaine Smith
Book Description:
Is it better to be safe or loved?
Four months have passed since the E’mani destroyed the Earth and scooped up the remains. Elizabeth “Beta” Camden was one of those taken. With the help of their enemies, the Fost, she escapes and confronts her prior captors successfully. Though she knows she should remain vigilant toward the E’mani, she follows her heart instead and falls in love with Marin, the sexy Fost warrior..She should have trusted her first instinct.
This time the E’mani don’t come in force--they slip in silently. And any hope Beta had of a peaceful life is lost. She leaves in the dead of night to find the E’mani stronghold and end them once and for all. But love is a tricky bitch.  It takes a threat to Marin’s safety to make Beta realize, if she can’t forget her past, she won’t have a future.



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Must Remember - Solum Series Book One On Sale for .99 June 1-July 1

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Chapter OneThe snowball hit the back of my head dead-on. Bam.I stumbled forward from the force of the blow. The flakes created a halo of white powder around my head in the cool, crisp air then settled all over my face and neck.What the…oh no he didn’t. A growl rose in my throat. I turned to confront my foe. I creased my eyebrows and I glared at him, mean-like.With a smug expression on his face, Marin stared back, tossing another snowball between his hands.“Elizabeth, you appeared distracted. I wanted to help.” His voice was smooth, deep like aged rum, and echoed in the unique way of his people, the Fost, almost like he was being dubbed. The sound got me every time causing me to shiver, or maybe it was the snow dripping down my back.“That was helping?” My ass.“Yes, you were about to walk into a tree,” he said dryly, dropping his ammunition.I whipped around. Sure enough, a tree loomed in front of me. Dark-gray bark, feathery fronds interspersed with lethal spikes, blue moss climbing its trunk. Yep, that was a tree. Well for here anyway, not like on Earth.I glanced back at Marin, who stood so trustingly under the boughs of another nearby tree laden with snow. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. See, I could help too. He looked hot, literally and figuratively. “Okay, thanks.”With a thought, my power twisted deep inside, and I sent out a burst of air through the branches. They shuddered in response and unloaded their cold, wet contents on Marin’s head with nary a sound.The snow dusted his brows, his cheeks, and obscured the single streak of dark green that coursed down the left side of his mahogany hair and framed his face. A single flake melted on his lips.Our gazes met and held. His light brown eyes had a slit pupil that dilated then contracted as he focused on me. I used to find it…disconcerting, but it was just him, along with his long limbs, sharp features, and elaborate tattoos called jatua. All small differences but strange enough to have unsettled me in the past. Now it was so damn unfair how sexy I found him, alien race and all.Marin raised an eyebrow and licked at his bottom lip, watching me watch him. My gaze followed the path of his tongue.Heat spread through me as I imagined myself tasting those lips. I tucked a strand of red hair behind my ear. My breath slipped out in a sigh.He smiled wide. “Lands, I love how you look at me.”“Stop.” I blushed, twirling back and starting down the path we’d been walking before he ambushed me. “How much farther?” I asked when he caught up and bumped into my side.“We are close,” Marin replied. He was  so busy shaking the snow out of his hair, he didn’t see my smile.“Are we there yet?”“No.”Ha, so literal. “Are we there yet?”His hands stopped and his brow crinkled. He looked so confused I had to laugh. Then I tripped flat on my face in my clunky snowshoes and it was Marin’s turn to snicker. He picked me up and settled me against him, my face tucked into his shoulder.“You all right there?” His words whispered past my ear.“I’m fine.” My voice came out a lot breathier than I intended. Damn it.The corner of his lips curled up. He traced the side of my face. Tingles trailed along my skin. I put my fingers over his and stood on tiptoe in invitation. Marin obliged and brushed his mouth along mine. Our lips clung for the briefest of seconds before he shoved snow down the back of my coat.I shrieked, dancing backward. Cold, cold, cold.Marin bolted down the path, much more sure in his steps than I.The jerk. He was lucky he got out of range, or I would have gotten payback.I fiddled with my jacket to get the rest of the snow out, shuddering at the feeling of wet fabric sticking to my back.God, I hated winter. The first snow, I marveled like everyone else. Oh, so pretty. The world sparkled underneath the coating of white. Then the freeze set in, the biting wind, the forced isolation. And did I mention the cold? Give me spring or summer any day.We were traveling to the mines outside the city of Groos. The miners had reached a type of rock they’d never seen before. It was dense and coarse. They couldn’t blast through it, and their efforts were destabilizing the tunnels. They tried to dig around it, but so far they’d had no luck. Nobody knew how thick the vein was or how far it reached. They wanted me to try magical means to remove it. Fat lot of good that would do.When I caught up to Marin, I gave him the evil eye.Marin grinned. “What?”I flipped him the bird.He grabbed my middle finger, “What does that mean? You do it all the time.”“Nothing.”His brows wrinkled again. “Woman.”“Man. And don’t talk to me. You put snow down my back.”Marin laughed. “Sorry.”“My ass, you are not the least bit sorry.”“Wait, what does your bottom have to do with this?”I blinked. Ha, I forgot sometimes that certain expressions didn’t translate. “Nothing.”He growled and kissed my knuckle before dropping my hand. “I hate when you say that.”“I know, thus, why I do it.” I grinned and stepped ahead of him with a wiggle in my step.He swatted me on the ass as I passed. While I acted angry outside, inside I loved when he played. He only ever did it when no one could see him. He was Clan Chief after all, even though he was only five years older than me at twenty-five. The position left him little time for fun and his own sense of responsibility precluded it.A few minutes later and we reached our destination. A box canyon opened up in front of us, filled with barren trees and snow. At the far end of the canyon, a cave entrance loomed, braced by wood. A single railroad track led out of the opening to the left and a snow-laden press stood to the side, up against the high stone walls. Con waited outside the entrance, his red and green Mohawk vivid against the backdrop of white. His stout form and kind face emphasized his resemblance to a Santa, A badass one. No fluffy red suit for him.Marin inclined his head, straight to business. “Show us this rock.” With a flourish, Con gestured ahead, and we entered the mines with cautious steps. Just past the entrance, the light from the two suns outside faded and darkness fell. I slowed and Marin’s hand brushed my lower back.“Let your eyes adjust for a moment,” Con muttered from behind us.As I stood there, the walls started to glow. Streaks of aqua phosphorescence lit the pathway ahead.“What is this?” I asked in wonder, moving in a circle.“Theris, a weed. It grows in the caves. When you break its shell, it glows.” Con held out a small stick almost like an aloe branch that he snapped before our eyes, and a thin, clear liquid trickled out. “The glow lasts almost a week. We carry some on us at all times. Come, follow me.”Con led the way down the cramped passageway. Gravel and ice crunched underfoot. The smell of dust filled the stale air. My breath steamed. Damn it. I shivered and rubbed my arms through the jacket. Marin ran his hand down my spine.It took about five minutes of hiking to reach the antechamber. When we got there, Con stared at me with a hopeful expression.“Okay, you want me to, you know.” I made woo-woo gestures at the wall.“Yes,” Con replied.Four months ago, I’d escaped from an E’mani spaceship and ended up here on Solum. The Fost, Marin’s people and the sworn enemies of the E’mani, took me in and hid me from their foes, but the E’mani didn’t give up easily. In one of their attempts to draw me out of hiding, they set bombs at these mines. Several people had been trapped inside. I’d used my magic to move the rock—how I got magic, I still don’t know—and created a new entrance. Now they wanted me to do it again. No pressure, right?I reached out and touched the wall. The dark surface crumbled under my fingertips. All throughout the flaky stone, a silver metal streaked. Not dust or ore. This was metal, hard and thick. No wonder they couldn’t get through it.With a deep breath, I closed my eyes. The power sprang eagerly to my summons. Heat spread outward from my core and my palm tingled where it touched the rock. The chill from being deep in the cave during winter faded.. A pulse vibrated in the air around me, pulling me deeper. I concentrated on that sound, letting it center me. My heartbeat synchronized to the sensation.One. My skin grew tight. I let my breath rush out in a slow exhale.Two. The stone warmed underneath my fingertips.Three. The ground shook in response to the power rushing to my call. I kept my hands square on the wall.Four. My hair stood on end, strength rushing through me, filling me until the force of the earth beneath my hand made me feel stretched like taffy. My mind screamed from the pressure and I squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to hold it as long as I could. My body shuddered until every pore sweat and my body strained from the contact, pushed to its limits and beyond. And then I shoved all the power out with my mind into the rock.Please move. Please.A beat.Nothing happened. “Anything, Beta?” Con asked right next to my ear.I jumped.“Nope,” I squeaked out, trying to bring my pulse under control, oddly empty.“Keep trying,” Marin said and touched the rock to my left. Con did the same on my other side. We all focused this time, but unlike the time we freed the miners, there was no movement. The metal seemed inert. Its light gray color contrasted starkly with the dark-brown stone.My shoulders slumped. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”“And this means we cannot mine the ferok, doesn’t it?” Marin asked, rubbing his forehead.“Correct, it covers the veins,” Con said.My fists clenched. The Fost had found another metal--ferok. It was pliable and could be imbued with magic. With it, they could shatter the technological defenses of the E’mani. That was a good thing, but the metal kept us from it. And we had so little of the ferok to begin with. This was not happy news.“Land’s sake, why can it never be easy?” Marin echoed my thoughts.Marin slapped Con on the back. “We will search the library for more information. You continue to try to mine this rock. See what you can do.” Con nodded in agreement as Marin gathered me up and we trudged out of the caves. Silence reigned for the next half hour. “Stop worrying,” Marin said.“I’m not worrying.”“I can practically hear the thoughts racing through your head.”“I am not worrying.” I enunciated slowly, my steps deliberate“Yes, you are.”“Well, fine, I can’t help it. I can’t stop thinking about the E’mani. Without the ferok, we only have our magic and we need more. And there’s this feeling of dread,” I splayed my hand across my chest, “right here, and it’s getting stronger. The E’mani are out there. I know it. I’m not sure why they haven’t attacked us yet, but they will. We need a weapon.”The E’mani wouldn’t have forgotten about me or the Fost. I didn’t hold out hope that they’d forgotten about the men they’d lost in their attempts to recapture me either.“The land protects us,” Marin replied.A snort escaped me. “Magic vs. machine. That didn’t work out so well for you guys the last time.”Marin tossed me a chiding look. “We survived, did we not? That is what matters. And we have lived as we are meant.”God, his words made my teeth itch. “You can’t think the E’mani aren’t planning retaliation. They are not a forgiving race.”I’d know having been their prisoner and all. And the more I thought about the E’mani, the more hatred stirred inside me. I loathed those pale freaks. They’d destroyed my world, in their never-ending quest to “make things better.” Then they brought me here. I didn’t remember much of my time with them, not yet. But I recalled enough to despise them. They were not kind masters.White eyes stared at me through amber glass, E’mani eyes.“Hello, Elizabeth,” Xade crooned. Light flashed off the razor sharp edge of the scalpel in his hands. “Time for more samples.”Marin’s words snapped me out of my memories with a jolt. “We all know the E’mani are coming. But the winter has been harsh, more so than usual. And before they came after you, it had been ages since the last time we saw them. They left this world long ago to recoup their losses after the war. They left even while we were still fighting and maintain only a small presence out in Industry.”My jaw set. “Good. Industry is where I need to go. I need to find one of their labs.”Marin sighed. “We have talked about this, Elizabeth. First, you have no idea where to find a lab. And second, you have no idea what you need to do if you did find it.”“I remember some of what they taught me. And being in the labs, where they kept me, will help me remember even more. I scared them, Marin. Me. When I confronted them—”“It might not have been you. It might have been all the lightning you were throwing around, or the blade Zanth wielded,” he argued.I grit my teeth until my jaw hurt. Damn him. Why wasn’t he listening? Tears blurred the path in front of me.“It was me; I could tell. I know something that can hurt them, I can feel it. The E’mani were frightened enough of me that they came in force to capture or kill me and it has to do with the labs. I know there is something I’m meant to do, and soon. If not, something bad is going to happen.” Chills shivered down my spine. I heard the faint echo of screams—men’s and women’s—from long ago. They had a plan for us, just like they had for Earth. How could I stop it? “Marin?”“Yes.”“If I asked you to, would you leave with me, today, and travel to Industry?”Marin blinked. “Today? No, we need to plan these things, you know that, Elizabeth. To go now would be stupid.”I stomped forward on the trail. “Of course it would be. How silly of me. You’re right.” “Elizabeth, please.” Marin caught up and put his arm around my shoulder. “We will go to Industry soon. I promise.”“Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that.” I let my head fall against his shoulder. Arguing with Marin never seemed to end how I wanted it to. No use being pissy about it now. And he was right, which was even worse. To go during winter would be foolish, but still…A few minutes passed. The snow crackled beneath our feet. It was cold enough, I’d long since lost feeling in my toes.The entrance to the city of Groos came into view. There was a large chiseled gate built into the natural arch that fronted the valley. They built the gatehouse into the valley walls itself and tunneled above the gate, giving the guards a clear sight line of anyone approaching.Bas-relief scenes covered the arch’s surface blending with the rock face. One scene depicted a Fost couple embracing in a corner their arms wrapped around one another. In the other corner was a Coreck, a catlike creature that stood on two legs, with a long tongue. Yet another showed a battle. Men fought with swords and spaceships flew overhead. The pictures were so vivid, they seemed to flow across the rock, lifelike and real. My fingers itched to touch the stone. Every time I saw it, I was struck by how natural it appeared. It fit.
Unlike me.
 About the Author:
Colleen Myers was raised in a large family in the outskirts of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania where she grew up on Harlequin teen romances and stories from her mother’s work as a paramedic. She was her high school salutatorian and attended Allegheny College on the Presidential Scholarship.
After college, Colleen spent a year in service in the Americorp giving back to the community at a local Pittsburgh Women Infants and Children Clinic (WICC) before attending Kirksville College of Osteopathic Medicine on a military scholarship.
Upon completing medical school, Colleen attended residency at Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland during 9/11. She earned three meritous service awards from the military along with outstanding unit awards. After serving seven yearsof active duty, she promptly landed a position at the VA to provide fellow veterans with optimum medical care. Still an avid fan of romances into adulthood, her love of the genre inspired her to hone her craft as a writer, focusing on contemporary romance and science fiction. Her background in medicine and the military provide an inspiring layer of creative realism to her stories and characters. 
Her first book, Must Remember, the first of the Solum series, is being published by Champagne Press. The sequel, Can’t Forget is the recipient of the 2015 RWA New England Readers Award.
Colleen currently resides in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with her son, and spends her spare time writing novels.
Website  http://www.csmyersmusings.com
Twitter  https://twitter.com/ColleenSMyers
Facebook Author  https://www.facebook.com/ColleenSMyers/
Facebook personal  https://www.facebook.com/colleen.laughlin.7
Goodreads  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14553363.Colleen_S_Myers
Google +  https://plus.google.com/u/0/114862374558510360435/posts
Linked in https://www.linkedin.com/in/colleen-myers-883a66b6
Pinterest  https://www.pinterest.com/csmyers3637/
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/csmyers3637

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Giveaway with Jamie A. Waters

Happy Fourth of July!
My name is Jamie Waters and I want to say a special thank you to my super awesome blog host, Roxanne, for inviting me write this guest blog. "Officially", I write science-fiction and paranormal romance books. Although, I admit to crossing genre lines frequently so it's sort of difficult to pigeon-hole me. Most of my stories have some aspects of science-fiction, paranormal, romance, action and adventure. I like writing spunky, kick-ass heroines and their equally kick-ass love interests.

I've had a love for science fiction and paranormal for just about… well, my entire life. I grew up with either my nose in a book, playing computer games – or competing in Tae Kwon Do martial arts competitions (nothing like a little diversity in your interests). I consider myself to be one of the first "girl gamers" and was playing RPGs when most people had never even heard of them. I got hooked on a computer game series called Ultima (uh oh, showing my age) and started writing really bad fan fiction as a teenager. From there, writing just became another extension of my creativity. 

I still play computer games and love reading. I've never outgrown my love for all things science fiction, paranormal and fantasy (as evidenced by the fairies and dragons all over my house). I also have itchy fingers and can't seem to go too long without drawing, painting, sculpting, or crafting. Be warned – non-traditional surfaces are my canvas of choice. If I'm eyeing your naked wall, it's because I'm plotting my next mural.

The book series I'm currently working on is The Two Towers series. It's a dystopian romance set about 150 years in the future in a post-apocalyptic setting. There's all sorts of science fiction, paranormal, romance, and action in the mix. The first book in the series, The Two Towers, was a winner of the Readers' Favorite Award (Science Fiction Romance), the CIPA EVVY Award (Science Fiction), and received an Honorable Mention in the Global Ebook Awards (Science Fiction). It's currently available as an ebook from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, and most other major resellers. It will be available in print in late July. In anticipation of the release of the second book, my publisher is offering The Two Towers ebook for FREE for a limited time until July 10th. If you haven't already picked up a copy, well, why the heck not? It's FREE!  (But be warned… you might not want to start one of my books late at night. I can't be held responsible if you stay up all night to finish it. I give good book hangovers.)

The second book of the series, Shadow of the Coalition, was just released on June 28th. This one is even more action-packed than the first. It features the same characters from the first, and introduces some new baddies. You can check out the live-action trailer here: https://youtu.be/qIa3Wgf69lQ

I'm currently working on the third book in the series and I'm hoping to have submitted to my publisher by the end of summer. *crossing fingers*

You can get more information about my books (including buy links) from my website at www.jamieawaters.com. Links to all my social media sites are there, as well as updates on my current works-in-progress. I absolutely love to hear from my readers! You guys are the greatest and I'm so excited to meet up with some of you face-to-face at this year's Authors After Dark Convention in Savannah, GA in August (http://authorsafterdark.org/). If you haven't already registered, please do! I really want to meet you guys.

This will be my first convention and it looks like it's going to be packed with awesomeness. In celebration, I even bought a jar of Unicorn Snot (no joke) and I'm going to glitter myself up during the Fantasy Ball on Saturday night. I even have wings! I got so excited about all the events – I changed my itinerary and I'm now coming in a day early so I can do a ghost tour and ride in a hearse, and participate in some of the pre-event happenings. There's going to be a ton of things going on (i.e. HEA lunch, Pirate lunch, inflatable slides, Drive-In movie night, fantasy ball, author panels and readings, corset room, tattoos, free swag, giveaways, etc.). It's just a great way to get to know each other without the formality of sitting behind a table and signing books. But yes – there's a book signing too! If you can make it, I'd love to see you guys there! Come play with me!


Shadow of the Coalition
The Two Towers SeriesBook TwoJamie A. Waters
Genre:  Paranormal Romance /Science Fiction Romance /Dystopian Romance
Publisher: MuseItUp Publishing
Date of Publication: June 28, 2016
ISBN:  978-1-77127-810-2ASIN:  B01FNEPYXU
Number of pages:  417Word Count: 107,000
Cover Artist:  SuzieDesigns
Book Description:
The award-winning novel, The Two Towers, continues in Book 2…
What’s stronger? Free will or fate?
It's been a month since Kayla, a headstrong ruin rat, and Carl, an OmniLab trader, returned to the surface. After she helped to restore control of the towers to those who would look after the best interests of the people, she'd found herself irrevocably bonded to Alec, the new co-leader of the High Council.
Although her heart belongs to Carl, she finds it difficult to resist the strange bond between her and Alec. Caught between learning how to handle her new emerging abilities, mysterious earthquakes, and a strange group seemingly intent on targeting OmniLab, Kayla and Carl are once again swept up in events that threaten to change the entire future of the towers.
Book Trailer      Spotify Playlist


Amazon     iTunes     MuseItUp    Kobo
Mini Excerpt 4
Carl broke the kiss suddenly, capturing her wrists in his hands. Leaning his forehead against hers, he took a deep breath and struggled to regain his composure. “You have no idea what you do to me, Kayla.”
She had a pretty good idea if it was anything like what he did to her. And so help her, if he stopped touching her now, she'd have to hurt him. He always talked too damn much. She nipped at his lower lip. “I'm willing to find out.”
About the Author:
Jamie A. Waters is an award-winning, science-fiction and paranormal romance writer. Her first novel, The Two Towers, was a winner of the Readers' Favorite Award in Science-Fiction Romance and the CIPA EVVY Award in Science-Fiction. The highly anticipated second book in the series, Shadow of the Coalition, is scheduled to be released Summer 2016 by MuseItUp Publishing.
Jamie currently resides in North Carolina with her teenage son and two neurotic dogs who enjoy stealing socks. When she's not pursuing her passion of writing, she's usually trying to learn new and interesting random things (like how to pick locks or use the self-cleaning feature of the oven without setting off the fire alarm). In her downtime, she enjoys reading on her Kindle, playing computer games, painting, or acting as a referee between the dragons and fairies currently at war inside her closet.
www.jamieawaters.com
https://www.facebook.com/booksbyjamiewaters
https://plus.google.com/u/1/116233971537364130348/posts
http://www.twitter.com/jawatersbooks
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8073005.Jamie_A_Waters

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Free Book and a Giveaway: Daemon Persuasion Series by S. K. Gregory

Join the Inner Daemons Facebook Event July 2nd and 3rd https://www.facebook.com/events/275533266128060





Daemon PersuasionDaemon Persuasion SeriesBook 1S. K. Gregory
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Mockingbird Lane Press and SKGregory.
Date of Publication: Jan 2013
ISBN: 978-0985690632ASIN: B00DRAX2P0
Number of pages: 222 pagesWord Count: 46k
Cover Artist: Jamie Johnson
Book Description:
When Mackenzie Murphy goes looking for her father she finds herself caught in the middle of a demon war between three rival families. Still trying to master her own demon abilities, who can she trust to help her? The mysterious Lucien? Or Taryn, the son of the enemy? With all three families hunting for a talisman that could shift the balance of power, Mackenzie must get to it first and finish what her father started, or die trying.
Get it FREE July 2 and 3 at 
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Daemon Persuasion Excerpt:
Chapter 1
Ten Years Later
Mackenzie prowled the backstreets of downtown Los Angeles searching for her mark. Johnny Beckman was the name her boss had given her, but he usually went by Ace, because he always seemed to be able to pull one out of his sleeve when the stakes were high. Unfortunately, his luck had taken a turn for the worse lately and he owed her boss over ten grand. Money that Mackenzie was going to collect.She had spent most of the night talking to people, trying to track him down. Rumor had it that he liked to hang out in a bar called Pot Luck. The club closed at two, so she loitered outside waiting for Johnny. She stood against a wall trying to look casual, staring at the reflection of the neon green Pot Luck sign in a nearby puddle.“Hey there sweetness, why don’t we go back to my place?” A bald drunk leered at her as he left the club. He tried to cop a feel, but before he could touch her she grabbed his wrist and twisted it up his back. He cried out, trying to wrench his arm away.“Keep your hands to yourself,” she said. She let go of his wrist and he hurried away, calling her a few choice names as he went. Nothing she hadn’t heard before. She had fended off more than a few unwanted admirers in her line of work. At five foot ten, she towered over a few them, and that intimidated them. Although some of them looked past that to the curly black hair, green eyes and a body with curves in all the right places.A half hour later, Johnny finally staggered out. He was shorter than her by three inches. Dressed in a sports jacket which he wore over a checked shirt, he bumped into one of the bouncers at the door. He was loaded.“Watch it,” the bouncer growled. “Drop dead,” Johnny muttered, not loud enough for the bouncer to hear, but she heard it.  She kept her distance until he was away from the club. The stench of urine in the alleyway was overpowering. Breathing through her mouth, she crept along behind him. There was little light, so Johnny wouldn’t see her until she was right up on him.            She passed a pile of blankets tucked between two trash cans. Pausing, she checked to make sure they were empty. She didn’t need some homeless person as a witness. Johnny stopped to light a cigarette and Mackenzie closed the distance between them.“Hey, Johnny, how’s your luck been?” she said, in a friendly tone. He turned around, the lit match still in his hand. Weariness lined his pudgy face. Running a hand through his greasy black hair, he eyed her through small, bleary dark eyes. He reminded her of a pig. And not the cute one from the film.“Who’s asking?” His tone was guarded but his body was relaxed. He didn’t view her as a threat and she found that insulting.“Mr. Clayton is wondering about his money,” she replied.That got a reaction. She didn’t relax her stance. Things could turn ugly in a moment’s notice and as they said in her kickboxing class, ‘Never let your guard down.’“You tell Clayton that if he doesn’t have the decency to send his heavies for the money, then he can wait for it. Seriously, how old are you, sweetheart?” He was right up in her face now and she could smell his stinking breath. Ever since she’d been a kid, she hated when people invaded her personal space. It made her edgy and more than ready to do whatever she needed to get them to back off.“Old enough to do this,” she said. She brought her knee up into his groin. He let out a muffled grunt of pain as he doubled over. Grabbing the back of his head, she slammed her knee into his forehead. He cried out again and fell to the ground, clutching his balls and head simultaneously. “Mr. Clayton wants his money by midnight tomorrow or…” she left the sentence unfinished. Leaning over him, she checked his pockets and found over a grand tucked away. He was still earning his nickname.“I’ll take this as a down payment.”Eager to get out of the alleyway and away from the stench, she turned away.“You fucking cunt,” Johnny yelled. He shoved her hard from behind and she fell to her knees. Something wet soaked through the left leg of her jeans. I really hope that’s rain water. From behind her she heard the distinct click of a blade.“That was a big mistake,” he said, pointing it at her, “How about I send Clayton a message in the form of your dead body.”“A little help here,” Mackenzie said. She whispered a few words in Latin.The streetlight above them blinked out, as Mackenzie climbed to her feet.A cold wind swirled around them. A trashcan tipped over, spilling its contents over the ground. The smell of rotting food filled the air.“What the hell is going on?” Johnny said, his eyes wild with fear. He backed away from her, his eyes darting back and forth. The knife flicked out of his hand and bounced away.Mackenzie saw the Shadow move in behind Johnny, flipping him off his feet. He hit the ground, smacking his chin on the concrete.As the Shadow moved over him, she knew what was coming next.“Subsitso,” Mackenzie barked. The Shadow halted, poised in anticipation, waiting for further instructions.She looked at Johnny whimpering on the ground, “Excedo,” she commanded.The Shadow sank slowly into the ground and disappeared. “Get the money Johnny,” she said.Breathing hard, she walked away, angry that Johnny had gotten the jump on her. She hated having to call the Shadow for help when she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. It had appeared a few times over the last ten years, especially as she had a knack for getting into trouble. At first, she had been terrified and convinced she was going crazy. When it appeared, it would whisper to her in Latin. Once she figured out it was Latin, she memorized a few simple commands, which it seemed to prefer to English. Constantly moving as a child meant she never had anyone to confide in about the strange and sometimes scary phenomenon. She had tried telling Suzie in the children’s home about it, but that had been a mistake. Suzie had laughed in her face and shoved her down, calling her a nut job. Unwittingly, Mackenzie had summoned the Shadow and Suzie ended up in the hospital with stitches in her head.  This Shadow thing craved violence and Mackenzie knew it would have loved to have killed Johnny, but it followed her orders without question. At least so far. Over the years, it had become a kind of guardian for her, but considering the outcome of its last visit, that night with Ramone, she had sworn she would never call for it again. Calling it was a mistake, but sometimes she did it without thinking.Still, she had what she came for. As she left the alley, she felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck as if she was being watched. She stopped, searching the area, but saw nothing. There were shouts in the distance, more drunks no doubt. Crossing the street, she glanced over her shoulder.There was definitely someone watching her. She looked up and found him, standing on a fire escape on the building opposite. He was tall, wearing a long coat, which flapped around him in the wind, but that was about all she could see. She couldn’t see his face but she knew he was staring right at her. Something about the man sent chills down her spine. She turned and hurried away. She’d had enough surprises for one night.            Blue Moon was the club Mr. Clayton owned. Its usual cliental consisted of the dregs of society or out-of-towners who didn’t know about its reputation. They played mostly dance music, which personally Mackenzie hated, but she had learned to drown it out over the last couple of years. She let herself in the back door hoping to leave the money and go, but a few people were still up, including Clayton.“Johnny sent you a little present, Mr. Clayton,” Mackenzie said, dropping the money on the table in front of a blonde woman in her late forties. Two bodyguards stood on either side of her. Her ice blue eyes gave nothing away. She was dressed in a simple blue calf length dress, but Mackenzie was sure the woman could make sack cloth look classy.“You gave him my message?” Mr. Clayton asked.“Yes, he’ll pay,” Mackenzie, replied.“He’d better,” the woman replied. Mr. Clayton was in fact Greta Clayton. She had taken over from her husband after he was shot two years ago. Even though he was dead, his name still meant something among the locals. Since he was rarely seen, Greta kept up the pretense that he was still alive. Mackenzie knew that if the locals knew a woman ran the show, there would be chaos. Mackenzie worked odd jobs for her, usually bartending and deliveries but more recently ‘collections.’ Greta had seen her take down a couple of drunks a few weeks earlier and decided that she was worth promoting. She didn’t argue when her promotion came, especially since it tripled her salary.“Any trouble?” Greta asked, counting the money.“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she replied.Greta smiled, transforming her face, “Good girl. Your payment will be ready in the morning.” Mackenzie never asked, but Greta had a presence about her. Mackenzie often wondered if she had been an actress back in the day. It seemed every young girl who came here wanted to be one. A few lucky ones got their big break. A lot more got swallowed by the city. The appeal of acting was lost on her.  It was hard enough making ends meet.Mackenzie left the way she came in. In the ally, she climbed onto her motorbike. Some people said that in a city this size you needed a car, but she preferred her Ducati. Back tire squealing, she headed home.As she drove over the crest of a hill, someone stepped into the road. She slowed slightly, wondering what someone would be doing out this late, on such a deserted stretch of road.Flames erupted in front of her. Mackenzie braked hard, jerking the bike to the left. A wave of heat hit her. The bike went out from under her, straight over the cliff edge. She skidded on her back a few feet and came to a stop inches from the flames. Heat tinged her face like a lover’s kiss.Unable to catch her breath, she lay motionless. A man stepped through the flames, unaffected by the heat. He loomed over her, face hidden in shadow. Could this be the same guy from the roof? He was about the same size. Her heart jack-hammered in her chest, leaving her breathless.  A medallion in the shape of an eagle hung around his neck.“Consider this a warning,” he hissed, “Stop messing with things you don’t understand.”Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the flames, leaving her speechless and suddenly very afraid.Mackenzie struggled into a sitting position, the flames dying around her. Her back burned and she was sure her leather jacket was a write off, as was her motorbike. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but somehow knew, this wasn’t the end.The man was gone. He had vanished into the flames as though he’d never existed. Son of a bitch. Apparently, Johnny was better connected than she thought. Or someone was. Greta had a lot of enemies and since no one could get near her, it made sense they would go after her employees.
Checking herself over, she was relieved to find that she wasn’t badly hurt, just a few scrapes and bruises. She started the long walk home, already plotting her revenge.

Daemon MadnessDaemon Persuasion SeriesBook 2S. K. Gregory
Genre: Fantasy/Supernatural
Publisher: Mockingbird Lane Press
Date of Publication:  Oct 26th 2015
ISBN: 978-1944169220
Number of pages: 206Word Count: 46,000
Cover Artist: Jamie Johnson
Book Description:
Mackenzie Murphy thought her demon troubles were behind her, but with Taryn as her new roommate and his father still out to kill him, it seems there's no getting away from them.
When Taryn begins to act erratically, Mackenzie discovers that he has to face the consequences for saving her life. Deadly consequences.
So it's up to Mackenzie to save him, while avoiding the attention of a local cop and her homicidal boss.
Maybe demons are the least of her worries.
Amazon
Daemon Madness Excerpt:
Chapter One
Walking as silently as he could through the St. Patrick’s church, Taryn watched for any movement. He had an iron-bladed knife in one hand and a small glass vial in the other. He scanned the ceiling of the church. A fluttering noise in the rafters caught his attention. Illuminating the pews, light streamed through the stained-glass window, but the ceiling remained in shadow. He knew it was there though. He could feel it watching him. As he turned, he saw it—a leg suspended between the wall and the ceiling. As he moved toward it, Taryn heard its ragged breathing and as he got closer, it growled softly. “You know how this ends, Bartlus. Let’s stop playing games.” Taryn threw himself forward as the demon launched itself toward him. Taryn hit the floor and the demon overshot, landing hard on the wood floor and came instantly to its feet. Taryn spun to face it. Mackenzie Murphy’s face stared back at him. Her full lips twisted into a sneer; her normally green eyes black. Ropey salvia oozed from her mouth onto the floor. She hunkered down, preparing to pounce, looking more like an animal than a person. “One way or another you are going back in this bottle,” Taryn said. “You won’t hurt this body,” Bartlus said in its guttural voice. “Don’t be so sure,” he lied. Bartlus grinned at him, the expression turning Taryn’s insides to water. He had to remain in control. If the demon realized he had one second’s doubt as to whether he could actually kill the demon that had possessed Mackenzie, it would all be over. “I can see her thoughts.” It tapped the side of Mackenzie’s head. “Her memories. You killed your own kin to save her. She’s still in here, screaming to get out.” “You’re not leaving this church.” As it leapt at him, it knocked him sprawling. Taryn flipped over, pinning Mackenzie’s body underneath him. “Is this what you want?” It asked, “Do you fantasize about this?” It wriggled suggestively. Taryn held it down by the throat and chanting the old incantation in Latin put the vial under its nose. It screamed, bringing Mackenzie’s knee up and connecting with his groin. Taryn groaned and loosened his grip as pain ripped through him. Bartlus took the opportunity to get free. He pushed Taryn over and made a run for it. Taryn tossed the knife. It struck the altar, and Bartlus skidded to a halt. The knife had missed by inches. Bartlus spun in the opposite direction, and Taryn teleported in behind and flipped the demon onto the floor. This time he made sure to pin all of Mackenzie’s limbs. As he finished the chant, black, oozing smoke poured out of her mouth and nose into the vial. When it was filled, Taryn sealed it. Mackenzie choked and sputtered. “You okay?” Taryn asked, sliding off her and onto the floor. “What the hell was that?” she moaned. “Possessor demon. I warned you not to touch anything.” “Well, the bottle didn’t exactly come with a warning label, ‘May cause possession when opened,’” she snapped. Taryn sighed. She was such a pain in the ass. “Is it gone?” Father Jared asked as he crawled from under the pew where he had been hiding. He sweated profusely, his dark hair plastered to his head. “It’s back in the bottle.” Taryn tossed it to him. Father Jared fumbled it, his thin face losing even more color, leaving him looking like a ghost, but he got a grip and held on as though his life depended on it—which it did. Taryn knew Father Jared had only just joined the church and was still learning about demons. He had a long way to go. What was the man thinking? Leaving the bottle unguarded! “I’ll lock this away,” Father Jared said, holding it at arm’s length. “Father Thomas will be back this evening. You can come and talk to him then. Alone.” “Good idea,” Taryn muttered. Mackenzie glared at Taryn as she picked herself off the floor. “I didn’t let the demon in on purpose,” she said. “I know. Let’s just forget it, okay?” He didn’t want to fight; he was in too much pain. They walked down the aisle to the door. “So what do possessor demons do? Other than body-jack you?” Mackenzie asked. “Not much. They’re demons who have had their forms taken from them.” “Can they possess dead bodies?” “Only the recently dead. They can keep bodily functions going temporarily but not for long. Once the body expires they return to their vessel. In this case, the bottle. They need living hosts.” Mackenzie shivered and pulled a face, “Let’s go home. I need a bath after that.” Taryn frowned. She said it so casually. Home. He had only been staying at her apartment for a few weeks, sleeping on the couch. Just because his father had a contract out on him didn’t mean it was permanent. He didn’t intend to stay much longer. It wasn’t like she got anything out of the arrangement anyway, other than picking up a few fighting techniques and learning about demon lore. Once he found a base somewhere he was leaving. As they made their way down the front steps of the church, Taryn saw him. He froze. Across the street by a bus stop, he had caught a glimpse of Lucien. A car passed, blocking Taryn’s view, and by the time it car moved away, his brother, Lucien had vanished. Taryn scanned the street, but it was as though Lucian never been there. “What’s wrong?” Mackenzie asked. He shook his head, “Nothing.” He must have imagined seeing his brother. It had been weeks since Lucien died. If he hadn’t appeared by now, then he wasn’t going to, was he?


 Daemon Battle, Book 3 will be available to pre-order July 2

To Be Released in September 2016.




About the Author:
S. K. Gregory was born in Northern Ireland in 1985. She is the author of several series of books including the Daemon Persuasion series, which was published by Mockingbird Lane Press. Her latest novel is Hell Hath No Fury: Queen of Hell Book 1.
She loves horror movies, reading and archery. When she isn’t writing, she helps authors through her website by supplying reviews and promotion. All of her works are available to purchase through Amazon.
http://www.storyteller-skgregory.weebly.com
http://www.twitter.com/sam_skgregoryhttps://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6574558.S_K_Gregory

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Top Ten Mind-Blowing Historical Facts and Legends from Oubliette—A Forgotten Little Place by Vanta M. Black

An oubliette was a pit or dungeon where prisoners and criminals were thrown and “forgotten”. Oubliette—A Forgotten Little Place by Vanta M. Black is set in a fictional castle in France and features several intertwining stories of those who met their demise in its oubliette.  

A modern story of two scrappy American sisters who are lured to decorate the castle acts as the main artery and weaves the stories together. This book is crazy-intricate. One story feeds into another and they all come together wickedly at the end. 

After Black learned about the real oubliette at Leap Castle in Ireland, she was inspired to write this book. She even went to visit the owner of Leap as part of her research. She also visited castles in the Loire Valley and the Catacombs of Paris. Additionally, she calls on her own childhood experiences with mysterious things called “shadow people”. Plus the historical references are all researched and authentic. 



You’re going to scratch your head after reading it and wonder if that really could have happened…and the disturbing answer is yes.

1. During the time of the Black Death—the plague in France—there really were nut cases called the Flagellents who went on parade flogging themselves throughout the countryside. And just like in Oubliette, they really weren’t happy with how the Church handled things. They were a cult and caused a lot more harm than good. You’ll find them referenced in Father Michel’s Story in Oubliette.

2. According to history, Helena was the mother of Constantine. It’s documented that she went to the Holy Land and discovered relics like shards of the cross Jesus died on and the Spear of Longinus that pierced His side. And in Sebastian’s Story in Oubliette, she is given a delicious backstory that could actually be true.

3. Absinth was invented in Switzerland around the time of the French Revolution and Dr. Ordinaire actually traveled the French countryside touting it as a cure for whatever ails you. The elixir allegedly contained wormwood which caused madness and visions. In Oubliette it is given to a pregnant Josette-Camille in The Journal Intime, raising the questions: is it the absinth, the voices, the oubliette, or her own sanity that taunts her?




4. The Children’s Story in Oubliette is loosely based on accusations that King Richard III of England murdered his two nephews to secure the crown for himself. The children in Oubliette are brother and sister, but they share a similar, desperate fate.

5. The controversial necromancy scene in The Pagan’s Story in Oubliette is based on a real myth about a knight who mourned the sudden death of his future bride. Legend has it that he crept into her tomb at night to consummate their love. This launched a chain of events that created a powerful force that the Knights Templar used in battle to defeat their enemies.

6. There really is a legend of a lady who becomes enamored by her husband’s prisoner while he is off battling Protestant uprisings in the name of the Church during the Reformation. This is the inspiration for Dorothée’s Story.

7. Just like Ralph explains in Veronica’s Story, the Knights Templar actually were accused of worshiping a magical “head”. Some legends say it was the head of John the Baptist, others the head of a demon.

8. During the time of the Plague, the Pope did issue a decree that cut himself off from all contact with the outside world in an effort to prevent infection. The Church did blame Jews and witches for the malady, just like in the opening of Father Michel’s Story.

9. The Paris Catacombs are a real place, and Vanta M. Black visited them while researching Oubliette—A Forgotten Little Place. Thousands of bodies were emptied from their graves over the years to fill the twisting and turning maze. Though most of the Paris Underground is off limits to tourists, there are areas that people manage to get into. Parties and other mischief are known to happen in it.

10. Vanta M. Black was terrorized by things known as “shadow people” as a child. This phenomenon has been documented throughout time. In some cases they have been called succubus or incubus. Some legends refer to “The Old Hag”. Whatever they are, they not only haunted Vanta for many years like they do the main character in the book Oubliette, but they once revealed themselves to someone else as it was about to attack Vanta while sleeping. To this day Vanta doesn’t know what they are, but she does know they are more common than most people would like to admit.



Oubliette: A Forgotten Little PlaceVanta M. Black
Genre: Fiction, Thriller, Paranormal, Historical Fiction, Genre-Fiction, New Adult, Horror
Publisher: Black Chateau Publishing
Date of Publication: March 2016
ISBN: 978-0-9964488-2-6ISBN: 978-0-9964488-1-9ISBN: 978-0-9964488-0-2
Number of pages: 566Word Count: 247,912
Cover Artist: Black Chateau Enterprises
Book Description:
Veronica knows the monsters aren’t “just in her head”, but no one listens to the headstrong ten-year-old as they tie her to a hospital bed every night.
Years later, after being dumped by her business-partner/boyfriend, Veronica finds herself on the verge of bankruptcy. Then a late-night call promises the perfect solution — a job opportunity decorating a castle in France.
Will Veronica risk what little she has left to chase a fairytale?
When the shadowy things that once terrorized her come back, Veronica must decide how much she’ll sacrifice for them, for her sanity, and for her life.
This epic book consists of interwoven stories with paranormal twists. A horror-filled historical fiction adventure, it spans nearly two millennia.
You'll be transported to an ancient Pagan ritual, Roman-ruled Gaul, the bloody Inquisition of the Knights Templar, France as it's ravaged by the Black Death, the duplicitous Reformation, the Paris Catacombs, and the gory French Revolution, while you unravel Oubliette’s cryptic layers.


Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/y0NMLzBnxKg
Amazon    BN    Author Website
PrologueLos Angeles – Early 1990s

V eronica didn’t understand why they looked for the monsters in her head, that’s obviously not where they were. Instead of listening, the doctors stuck pads with wires to her temples and increased the dosage of an IV that dripped into her veins.They also told the nurses to tie her down with thick, leather belts every night.The tethers didn’t matter though, because when the monsters came, she wouldn’t be able to move anyway. The only thing Veronica could ever do was scream.The doctors called them “night terrors”. The pudgy lady who talked funny –– she told Veronica it was her accent –– said they were “spirits”. Mommy used the term “shadow people”. Veronica just called them “monsters”, and wished they’d stop scaring her when she slept. They wanted her. Deep inside, on a primal level, Veronica knew the monsters –– or whatever they were –– craved her, and if given the chance, they would do something very, very bad to her. The little girl tried to explain this to the doctors, the nurses, the accent-talking lady, and her mother, but none of the adults really listened. Instead they argued and shouted at each other, and huffed in and out of the room –– but the thing that frightened Veronica the most, is when the adults would simply shrug their shoulders, and admit that they really didn’t have any idea what the monsters were at all.It was almost ten o’clock –– shift-change time. The night staff would come now. The nurse on duty was a plodding and lazy lady who would only check on Veronica at the beginning of the shift, and then abandon her in favor of the nurses’ station and a VHS tape of the day’s soap operas. Veronica didn’t like her. Sometimes it would take “Nurse Lazy” a full five minutes before she’d respond. She never came fast enough. Veronica tried to tell the doctors that the nurse was too slow, but the complaints of a ten-year-old weren’t taken seriously against the word of the lazy nurse who smiled sweetly and said, “Poor dear and those dreadful night terrors. I always come running as fast as I can!”Veronica cringed as the television automatically turned itself off. It always happened at ten o’clock; it was on a timer. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt it protected her and wished more than anything it could stay on. The noise, the pictures, The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, there was something inexplicable about the TV that kept the monsters away.  Veronica’s pleas to leave the television on all night were never honored by the adults. Nurse Lazy actually once told her, “Oh, we can’t leave the TV on, it’ll give you bad dreams.”Ha! Little did she know the TV prevented the bad dreams.The door opened and in walked Nurse Lazy. Her metal nameplate actually read “Lucy”. She handed Veronica a little paper cup with a green pill inside and waited with a thin, forced smile. The longer Veronica took to take her medicine, the longer Nurse Lazy would have to wait until she could watch her soaps.Veronica plucked the pill out of the cup. “Aren’t they ’sposed to be yellow?”Lucy flared her nostrils ever so slightly as she replied, “No, your new doctor prescribed the green ones. Hurry up and take it.”Veronica studied the pill closely, holding it inches from her nose. She looked at it slightly cross-eyed. “I don’t think I like the green ones though. Yellows are better.”Lucy’s trembling hand clutched a Dixie cup of water. “That’s for the doctors to decide. Now eat it up! Time for sleep.”Veronica painstakingly laid the pill on her tongue and grunted for the nurse to hand her the water. Lucy thrust it forward. “Here, drink!”Veronica pouted, though she knew the cute face wouldn’t work on ol’ Lazy. “Thanks,” she muttered as the nurse buckled down Veronica’s arms and legs and pulled the covers up to her chest. “Goodnight,” Lucy grumbled. She snatched the mermaid doll that sat by Veronica’s side, and tossed it on the nightstand before careening out the door. Random acts of meanness like that weren’t uncommon for Lucy. Veronica sniffed as the silence left in the nurse’s wake permeated the room. Then familiar, tinny tunes from a transistor radio wafted through the air. It hung from the janitor’s cleaning cart. He always blared it while mopping the halls. There was that song again. Some stupid radio station played it almost every night right around this time. Veronica stared at her doll on the nightstand, just out of reach, as the lyrics began:
Dream the dream that only you can dreamSing the song that only you can singDance with me, we’ll start slowClasp my hand, now lose controlBite the monster only you can seeAnd dream the dream you only dream for me
Veronica tried to squish her head into the stiff pillow so her ears were covered, but it didn’t work. The heavy metal song’s pounding chorus kicked in.
Spirits in the mazeBurning brighterLike a dream within the hazeDancing fireDeep inside malaiseHungry spiderForce your screams to blazeSpinning spiral
The song frightened her. It seemed to always precede a particularly bad episode. She really wished she had the yellow pills. She felt defenseless as sleep consumed her. The green pills would be no help if one of the bad ones came…the real Bad Ones, that is.She twisted her head and glared into the large mirror on the wall across the room. People watched her from inside there. Veronica wasn’t sure if they were the doctors, the accent lady, or maybe even her mother, but every now and then someone would move, the light would catch just right, and she would see a figure behind the glass. Dimly, she watched them watch her. They studied her and talked about her and wrote notes about her on clipboards. Knowing they were there gave Veronica little comfort because they weren’t there to help; they were only there to watch.Her sleepy eyes narrowed at the watchers and she whispered with dopey lips, “What, no popcorn? You gonna stare at me all night and you got no stinking popcorn? You’re all a bunch of stupid heads, ya’ know that? Stooopid heads...”Sleep quietly took over while Veronica cursed the stupid heads behind the glass. She jerked her droopy neck to force herself awake, but the green pill was powerful. It pushed her into the darkness where the shadow people waited.Veronica, here we are!Veronica, time to steal your dreams.Time to let us steal your dreams and break your bones and slip your soul right out of your slimy sack of skin…Veronica!She fought to wake up. With all her might she tried to scream, but the green pill seized her motor functions and paralyzed her. She was like a petrified slab of meat laid out on a table –– unable to move, unable to cry out, unable to defend herself.Do you know the evil that you dream, Veronica?Do you know the song that only you can sing?Veronica!In the limbo between sleep and lucidity Veronica sensed their heinous presence with crystal-clarity. She was hyper-alert and instinctively knew these were the real Bad Ones. Without looking she saw one crouching in the far corner of the room. It glared at her intently and oozed animosity. It waited patiently, almost casually, for Veronica to succumb.With a sudden surge of intense willpower she cried out — just a little — it was a tiny whimper that was barely audible. It wasn’t loud enough to scare the shadow people away though, and it definitely wasn’t loud enough for anyone living to hear.Another Bad One pulled itself onto the foot of her bed. This one was small and hairy like an animal. Scrooching under the blanket, it crept slowly along the side of her bare leg. It felt for a nook to burrow — a soft place like her stomach or side so it could squirm and writhe itself into her flesh — where it could rip her apart from the inside out. “Help,” Veronica whispered one last time before falling into the dark depths of sleep –– deep, down, spinning ‘round, until the darkness took a hold…


About the Author:
Vanta M. Black, author of Oubliette—A Forgotten Little Place, enjoys uncovering the dark mysteries of our Universe.
In addition to writing,  she enjoys traveling to provocative places and studying all things esoteric.
Black has degrees in English, communication and art. She resides in Southern California with her husband and two pug-mix dogs, and spends her time in support of causes that empower women and advance science and technology.
http://www.vantamblack.com/
https://www.facebook.com/VantaM.Black
https://www.facebook.com/OublietteNovel/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14697666.Vanta_M_Black
https://twitter.com/VantaMBlack  @VantaMBlack
http://oublietteaforgottenlittleplace.tumblr.com/
https://www.pinterest.com/VantaMBlack/
http://www.youtube.com/c/VantamblackOubliette
https://www.iauthor.uk.com/oubliette-a-forgotten-little-place:18380

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Kory M Shrum's Dark Fantasy Songlist - Worth Dying For by Kory M. Shrum

Hi, I’m Kory and I write Dark/Urban Fantasy. 


For those of you who like “dark”, either because you need music while you write (like me!) or enjoy a good soundtrack while you work—I’ve made a 10-song list for you to enjoy.


What are some of your favorite songs to listen to while writing (or anything else)?

Worth Dying ForDying for a Living SeriesBook FiveKory M. Shrum
Genre: Supernatural Suspense, Paranormal Thriller
Publisher: Timberlane Press
Date of Publication: May 2, 2016
ISBN: 978-0692705322ASIN: B01C0PFMJ6
Number of pages: Print, 435Word Count: 83K
Cover Artist: John K. Addis
Book Description:
A supernatural suspense novel about a snarky anti-heroine and her motley crew trying to stop the unstoppable. The fifth novel in the popular Dying for a Living series, Worth Dying For picks up two months after the events of Dying Light.
The gang is in New York and much to Jesse’s surprise, they are all still alive. Jesse, Ally, Rachel, Gideon and Maisie have managed to stay off of Caldwell’s radar for months. But when your enemy can control minds and teleport, there isn’t a safe place in the world where you can hide. They have a plan for stopping his genocidal reign, but it will require a 2500-mile road trip to Cochise, Arizona, the abandoned military base where it all began.
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Excerpt:
“So what’ll it be?” I ask her. “Water? Juice? I don’t think we actually have Gatorade, but I can walk down to the store.”“Water’s fine.” Ally falls back against cushions and grins up at me. A light pink blush spreads over her cheeks. She finger-combs her hair. “My hair is so pretty. I love my hair.”I snort. “I love your hair too.”“What else about me is cute?” she asks.“Everything.” I fluff the pillow for her and search the room for a blanket. I yank a red velvety throw off the back of a chair as Gideon slips out of the bedroom and passes me on his way to the mini fridge. He grabs one of the wrapped water glasses from the bar above.“Grab us one too.” I have zero problems assigning tasks to other people. Sometimes I wonder if it was a mistake going into death-replacing. Sure, I was a great death replacement agent, and dying for other people is cool, but I’m really good at bossing people around.It’s like a calling.Gideon fills two water glasses with some fancy bottled water from the fridge and hands me a glass. I don’t dare remind him that Ally vowed not to drink this water yesterday. She ranted about the effect of plastic on the environment for ten whole minutes. I could’ve reminded her that the planet is about to explode anyway, but that meant Gideon would’ve won the argument and I’m Team Ally all the way.I put the glass of water in her hand. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. “Here you go. Drink up.”She waves her water around. “I just feel so good, you know?”I smile. “I can tell.”She runs a hand through her hair. “It’s a new year. A new beginning. And we have a great plan for kicking Caldwell’s butt.”“We do.”“And you’re so cute and you kissed me.”With arched eyebrows, Gideon closes the bedroom door behind him. Thankfully, the sound of the television comes on, affording us some privacy.I sink down onto the sofa beside her. “I’ll do it again if you want me too. I’ll kiss you a million times.”She bites her lip and I’m about to lose it. I lean forward to kiss her but she starts talking again, so I hang there mid-smooch, lips puckered.“Life is so good right now. No one is stabbing us, burying us alive, beating us up, or kidnapping the dog,” she goes on, her voice echoing inside her water glass. Her face pinches. “That means we are probably about to die.”I press my lips together and sigh. “Don’t say that. You’ll jinx us.”It’s difficult getting her to sit up, but I manage it. I want her to drink this water. I tilt the glass toward her lips, encouraging her.“This is good,” she says and frowns at the water. “Is this tap water?”“Yep.”“Because I’m not drinking that $15 water Gideon bought.”“It’s tap,” I say again. “You’re just too drunk to taste it.”Ally shrugs and finishes the glass. Then she hands me her empty glass.“You want more?”“No,” she grins. “I want something else.”“We’ve got chips, but that’s about it. And Rachel can’t close a bag to save her life, so they’re probably stale.”She shakes her head, grinning.Then I realize what she’s saying.“Oh.” I smile. “Okay.”She crawls over the pillow between us and pulls herself into my lap. She straddles me, wrapping her arms around my neck. She kisses me once on the cheek, probably a missed target rather than a sweet gesture, and then manages to get my mouth the second time.She pulls back. “God, is it you or is it really hot in here?”“We’re still wearing our coats.”She laughs and looks down at herself. “Oh. Right.”I reach up behind her and pull her jacket off. “Better?”She snuggles up to me. “You’re still hot.”“Thanks for noticing.”“Let me help you take your coat off.”“Okay.” I let her attempt to pull off the jacket, but it’s not really going anywhere and she accidentally pulls my hair twice. So I help her get my jacket off and throw it over the arm of the sofa. One of the throw pillows falls to the floor with a poof.Ally doesn’t stop there. She slips her hands under my shirt, giving me a curious look. “Is this okay?”I try to find the voice to tell her it’s more than okay. She would have been naked an hour ago in the grubby bathroom of some bar if she wasn’t such a germaphobe.She is so beautiful. Her eyes are bright, reflecting the lamplight. Her face is flushed from the alcohol, her smile lazy. Her eyes half-closed. My heart pounds in my chest, thudding against my ribs so hard it hurts.“What’s wrong?” A frown creases her face and I think she can hear my heart throbbing. “Don’t you think I’m pretty?”“Don’t be stupid.”I reach up and pull her down into my arms. I kiss her, even more deeply than I did on the balcony. I slip my hand under her shirt and unsnap her bra with one twist of my fingers.She gasps in my mouth and the sound of it makes my whole body shudder.“Lay down,” I command.She laughs, surprised, but her voice goes all deep and breathy. “Yes, sir.”I climb on top of her, positioning myself between her legs. I kiss her neck and she squirms, bucking her hips up against mine.“Do you love me?” she asks.“More than anyone.”“Are you sure?”I cover her mouth with mine. “Please stop talking.” I pull back. “Unless you want me to stop.”
“No, no.” She grabs the front of my hoodie, twisting it up in her fists and pulls me down on top of her.
Shrum's writing is smart, imaginative, and insanely addictive! I have begun to think of her books as my Kory Krack. I beg of you to pick them up. You will NOT regret it!  ~ Darynda Jones, New York Times Bestselling Author of the Charley Davidson series
This book and author are now among my favorites! Wow! I might be a little partial to this story because I love morbid comedy, urban fantasy, and a good mystery. I'm also a big fan of original ideas, since they're so rare anymore. But this one has it all!  ~ Angela Roquet, author of the Lana Harvey Reapers Inc. series

Shrum is a master at blending a breezy narrative with genuine weight to story and characters. Hysterical, moving, and fascinating all at once.  ~ John K. Addis, author of The Eaton
About the Author:
Kory M. Shrum lives in Michigan with her partner Kim and her ferocious guard pug Josephine. She is very fond of naps and foods made of sugar, which is, as you can imagine, a deadly combination. But she tries to compensate for her extreme physical laziness with her overactive imagination. She's an active member of SFWA, HWA, and the Four Horsemen of the Bookocalypse, where she's known as Conquest. She's the author of five contemporary (and somewhat dark) fantasy novels in the Dying for a Living series: Dying for a Living, Dying by the Hour, Dying for Her: A Companion Novel, Dying Light, and Worth Dying For.
Dying for a Living has over 190 5-star reviews and is a free ebook.
When not writing, she can be found teaching, traveling, and wearing a gi. She's very likely to tempt you to an ominous tarot or palm reading--anything spooky-foo to pass the time until Guardians of the Galaxy or Sherlock return. She's not-so-secretly dying for the next season to begin.
www.facebook.com/korymshrum
www.twitter.com/koryshrum
www.korymshrum.com
http://korymshrum.blogspot.com/

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Release Day Blitz Love, Alchemy by Eden Ashley

Love, AlchemyEden Ashley
Genre: New Adult Romance/Fantasy
Publisher: Eden Ashley
Date of Publication: July 1, 2016
ASIN: B01ENMA95G
Number of pages: 300Word Count: 60,000
Cover Artist: Laura Gordon
Book Description:
Daveigh Little is preparing for college, planning to leave behind the tiny hick town she’s spent her entire life in once and for all. But plagued by a trouble at home and school, Daveigh makes a series of bad choices that land her in hot water with a local kingpin. Suddenly, people around her are dying and Daveigh finds herself on the run.
And then there’s Ethan. Fresh out of the academy, Ethan Remington represents the authority Daveigh has come to despise, but she is inexplicably drawn to the handsome rookie of few words. From the first moment she laid eyes on him, Daveigh knew Ethan was different. She just didn’t realize how different. Reasons of his own have led Ethan into the tangle strands of danger with the town of Harpey…but those reasons aren’t nearly as mysterious as Ethan’s origins or the irresistible passion between them.
Amazon
Excerpt: The PartyCooper’s fingers dug into her arm with bruising force, leaving Davey no choice but to defend herself. Punching out with the heel of her free hand, she struck him in the nose. Rearing back in pain, he immediately let go and she struggled to keep her footing. Recovering, Cooper snarled and lunged to retaliate. Davey scrambled but wasn’t fast enough to escape his reach. And then suddenly she didn’t have to. A dark figure stepped into Cooper’s path, and seconds later, Cooper was on the ground bleeding and wearing a dazed look. He wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.Deeply shaken, Davey opened her mouth to thank her rescuer, but he had already gone. Swallowed up by the dancing mass of sweaty teenagers.Davey wanted to be home at once. All she could think of was cuddling with Hogan while reading him a bedtime story before tucking him in. She ran outside, yanking a hoodie over her head to protect against the chill. Gulping in the misty fresh air, she calmed down enough to slow to a stroll and began what would be a long walk home. But there he was. It hadn’t been her imagination. Remington stood on the shadowy road, blocking Davey’s path.She stopped several yards from his position. A safe distance away, she hoped. “What do you want?”His reply was so low she could barely make it out. “I needed to be sure.”Davey’s heart was thudding out of her chest. Had he seen her dealing? “About what?”“That you were okay.”“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. “If you were so worried, why didn’t you stick around?”“The directive tonight was recon only.” Remington took a step closer. “I think I may have compromised it by causing a scene.”Weirdo alarm bells ringing at full volume, Davey took two steps back. “I’m sorry saving my ass messed up your mission. Thanks anyway.” Going in the other direction would get her away from him but also make the trek home thirty minutes longer. It really didn’t seem like a bad trade off.“What did that guy want from you?”“It’s none of your business.” Davey quickly started walking.Remington followed. “You could have been hurt.”“Again, none of your business.”  She doubled her stride, but he kept pace effortlessly. Forging ahead for about fifty feet, Davey stopped. “What the hell are you doing?”“I’m escorting you home.”Flabbergasted, her mouth opened and shut. “Why?” she finally asked.Remington watched her for a quiet moment. His features were oddly attractive in the glow of the streetlights. “I swore to serve and protect. It’s my job to keep you safe.”Unconvinced, she gestured toward the house where the party raged on. “So a cop is going to show up and escort every one of those kids home too?”“No.”She folded her arms. “Then why are you following me?”Remington shifted. “I don’t know.”It wasn’t really an answer, but the way he spoke, as well as the manner of his movements, made the words seem true. Plus, Remington hadn’t appeared comfortable admitting them.“What’s your name?”“Officer Remington.”“Well, I don’t like cops. Give me something else to call you.”“Like what?”Davey rolled her eyes. “Like your first name.”“Oh.” Remington smiled. The expression transformed his features, and she thought he should do it more often. “Ethan.”
“Okay, Ethan. Walk me home.”
About the Author:
Realist, cynic, and hopeless romantic all rolled into one, Eden lives in a small, sunny town in SC where thunderstorms inspire her best ideas. When not daydreaming about her next novel, Eden can be found curled up with a musty old paperback and a cup of coffee...or mired deeply in her next plot to take over the world. She enjoys reading or watching anything with supernatural elements, so writing paranormal and fantasy romance is a natural fit.

Blog: http://edenbynite.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EdenAshleyAuthor
Twitter: @Eden_byNite
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7150184.Eden_Ashley

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Release Day Blitz The Mannequin Offensive by Kirsten Weiss

The Mannequin OffensiveRocky BridgesBook 1Kirsten Weiss
Genre: Mystery/Suspense (paranormal)
Publisher: Misterio Press
Date of Publication: July 1, 2016
ISBN: 1-944767-02-9
Number of pages: 328Word Count: 72,300
Book Description:
After an overseas assignment goes bad, all Rocky Bridges wants is out of the global security business. No more personal protection gigs. No more jaunts to third world countries. No more managing wayward contractors. But when her business partner is killed, Rocky must investigate her own company and clients.
Rocky’s no PI, but she’s always trusted her instincts. Knife-wielding mobsters, sexy insurance investigators, and a Russian-model turned business partner are all in a day’s work. Now her inner voice has developed a mind of its own, and she finds herself questioning her sanity as well as reality as she knows it. Rocky can’t trust those around her. But can she even trust herself?
The Mannequin Offensive is a fast-paced novel of mystery and suspense.
Release Day Sale. 99
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Chapter 1It was just meat.Sickly green tiles, slick with something I didn’t want to identify. A wall of cabinets with square, metallic doors. And on the autopsy table…just meat. I adjusted my mask, adapted my breathing. My stomach flipped at the smell of ammonia and petroleum. By this point, I should have been used to the oil stink. Baku, Azerbaijan’s capital, reeked of the stuff. It seeped from the ground, staining the sand, hanging heavy in the air. But surely I was imagining the odor here, in the morgue two stories below the city’s streets. My scalp itched where my blonde hair had been shorn away. My brain throbbed, spun, and I recognized the signs of a potential faint. I relaxed my knees so I wouldn’t pass out and focused on his toes. Not his toes, I mentally corrected, its toes, the corpse’s toes, crooked from a lifetime in dress shoes.It wasn’t Derek, not anymore. The man who, yesterday, had skipped out on a meeting with Azeri officials to drag me to see the burning gas fields was gone. He’d told me the fields had been holy to the Zoroastrians. Mystical. But he’d told me a lot of wild stories, about missing pirate ships and Vikings who’d made their way down to the Caspian.“Who knows?” he’d said. “One might have been your ancestor. You look like a Valkyrie, tall and blond and powerful.”“Viking pirates.” I’d rumpled my hair, scanning the low, brown hills for marauders, pickpockets, and corporate spies. “Sounds like a movie.” And I’d launched into a fantasy screenplay, complete with axe-play, wenches, and a traitorous Viking who’d doomed the expedition.“They were wiped out by disease,” he’d said.I’d snorted. “Non-fiction. Who needs it?”The coroner cleared his throat. I glanced across the table. The coroner’s black eyes gleamed maliciously over his surgical mask. I was an intruder, my appearance in his morgue an insult to his professional standards. “Are you all right?” They were the first English words he’d spoken, and they surprised me.“I’m fine.” I shrugged. “It’s just meat.”A sunburst of light glinted off the coroner’s scalpel, expanding, disorienting me. He placed his fingers on the body’s clavicle. Oh God, he’s going to cut him. My heart thundered. Meat, I told myself. Just meat. Something grabbed my leg, and I jerked, woke up. My feet swung off the suede couch, and I swayed drunkenly, blinking.My neighbor, Glenda, stepped hastily back and adjusted her lightweight green duster. A fit seventy-something, she favored flowy fabrics. Her lips moved, silent. Her white brows creased, and her mouth moved again. Glenda prodded the neat coil of white hair piled upon her head with a long finger.Shaking my head, I tried to escape the remnants of the nightmare. I yanked the earplug from my right ear. “Sorry. What?”Sun slanted through the sheer curtains, making rectangles on the burnt orange and blue oriental rug. My dog, Churro, panted on the bamboo floor next to Glenda, his black and white head tilted with concern. He was a dachshund-beagle mix. It was a mystery to me how two short-legged breeds had combined to create a svelte, mid-sized dog that looked like neither. But Churro, like me, was his own dog.“I said, your phone’s been ringing off the hook.” Glenda raised a white brow. “I can hear it in my townhouse.”I grimaced. My landline was intentionally loud. I checked my cell, lying on the glass coffee table. Dead. I tugged down the hem of my rumpled, white t-shirt. “What are you doing in here?”She rested her hands on her narrow hips. “You gave me a key. Remember?”I remembered. We’d exchanged keys when I’d first moved in. Glenda would water my plants when I was away, and I’d make sure that if Glenda died, her body would be found before being eaten by her cats. (Her words, not mine.) Since I traveled often and Glenda could only be eaten by her cats once, it had seemed a good deal at the time. I squinted at my fireplace mantel, painted a butter-cream yellow, and the clock perched on it. Three o’clock. My gaze drifted upward to the painting of sunflowers. Happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts.A garbled murmur turned my attention back to my neighbor. “Did you say something?” I asked.“Sorry. I keep forgetting.” Glenda motioned toward my head, and my hand automatically rose to the shaved patch of skin above my left ear. Fine hair grew over the puckered scar. I’d tried parting my hair on the other side, covering it up. But it looked odd, and so I wore my blond hair in its usual long braid. “I asked when you were planning on returning to work. This moping isn’t healthy.” Glenda’s lips pulled down, deepening the lines around her mouth, and I felt an unreasoning guilt.“I’m not moping, and I’m not returning. I’m done.” I was done with the travel, done with the health hazards, done with the egos. Done, done, done. Besides, a lifetime of new possibilities stretched before me. I could do anything. I could open a bar. I could open a bookstore. Or a bakery. Or a bookstore and bakery. I could even start something that didn’t start with the letter B. Lifetime of possibilities? There was an entire alphabet of possibilities.“Done.” Glenda’s mouth pinched. “You’ve been sleeping all day, ignoring your responsibilities…”“I’m on leave.”“You’re too old for this.”“Thanks.” Sheesh. She wasn’t my mom. Though she was old enough to be.I stood, unpeeled the t-shirt from my back, and arched, feeling rather than hearing the crack. I was built like a German barmaid, able to carry six steins of beer in one hand, all curves and hidden muscle. It had been a useful physique in my role as security consultant. I rubbed my hands over cheeks splattered with freckles.The dog pawed at my knee, whining.“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I opened the glass door that looked over my fenced garden. Churro bolted past.“What will you do?” Glenda asked. For a moment, I thought I heard a hint of motherly concern in her voice.But I was imagining it.I watched Churro race in circles, ears flapping, ball in his mouth. He stopped before a New Zealand palm and dropped the tattered ball, cocking his head, as if waiting to play. He nosed the ball toward the plant.I snorted and shook my head. I loved Churro but was under no illusions about his degree of smarts. “Well?” Glenda asked.“Well, what?”“What are you going to do?”“I’m going to open a combo wine bar and bookstore.” Glenda lowered her chin. “You can’t be serious.”“It’ll be great,” I said, spinning the fantasy. “I’ll call it the Book Cellar. Get it?”“What do you know about running a wine bar? You don’t even drink wine. You’re a beer drinker.”“Yeah, but the Book Keller just doesn’t have the same punny ring.” I laid an earnest hand on my chest. “People buy books during the day and drinks at night. It’s an optimal use of the space.”“What space? Have you already found a space?”The phone jangled, and I flinched.“I told you it was loud,” Glenda said.I walked into the light-filled kitchen and picked up the phone. “Rocky here.”Someone pounded on the black-painted front door. I jerked my chin toward the door, covering the phone with my hand. “Would you mind?” I asked Glenda in a low voice.My neighbor glided toward the door.The voice on the phone cleared his throat. “It’s Hank.” He paused. “Rocky, you need to prepare yourself for some bad news.”My breath hitched, and I leaned against the gray granite counter. I knew those words. I’d spoken those words. And there was no way to prepare for what came next. The front door swung open, and Glenda stepped aside. Two uniformed police officers walked in. “Who?” My throat tightened.“It’s Pete. He’s been killed.”My brain stumbled, hit a wall. I pressed my palm into the edge of the granite counter, felt its coolness beneath my skin. The bastard couldn’t be dead. I hadn’t forgiven him yet. I tried to swallow, failed.“Rocky?” Hank asked.“How?” My voice was a croak.“Knifed. They found his body in a parking lot this morning. Must have happened sometime late last night.”I bowed my head and ran my palm over my hair. My scalp was damp with sweat. “What do you need?” I finally said.“The police are looking to talk to you. Don’t say anything.” “Why? I don’t know—”Hank broke the connection. I stared at the phone. I wasn’t in the habit of blabbing to cops. Over two decades of working in third world countries had taught me the authorities were not my friends. American cops were light years ahead of the thugs I’d dealt with overseas, but old habits died hard. More importantly, there was nothing I could tell the officers. I didn’t know anything. It made no sense. Pete couldn’t be dead.The uniformed police moved toward me, their broad faces grim.I leaned against a cabinet.
I didn’t cry.
About the Author:
Kirsten Weiss worked overseas for nearly twenty years in the fringes of the former USSR, Africa, and South-east Asia.  Her experiences abroad sparked an interest in the effects of mysticism and mythology, and how both are woven into our daily lives.
Now based in San Mateo, CA, she writes genre-blending steampunk suspense, urban fantasy, and mystery, mixing her experiences and imagination to create a vivid world of magic and mayhem.
Kirsten has never met a dessert she didn’t like, and her guilty pleasures are watching Ghost Whisperer re-runs and drinking red wine. Sign up for her newsletter to get free updates on her latest work at: http://kirstenweiss.com

Web: http://kirstenweiss.com
Blog: http://parayournormal.wordpress.com
Twitter: @KirstenWeiss
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kirsten.weiss
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5346143.Kirsten_Weiss
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A Review of The Invisible Library by Genevieve Cogman

The Invisible Library by Genevieve Cogman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I was excited to see a bookish adventure story- can you imagine, an undercover librarian?

OMG a Spybrarian!!! Yes, that would be my dream job.

"Irene is an undercover Librarian—a professional spy for the mysterious Library, a shadowy organization that collects important works of fiction from all of the different realities. Most recently, she and her enigmatic assistant Kai have been sent to an alternative London. Their mission: Retrieve a particularly dangerous book."

I was expecting a Sherlock Holmes meets Mission Impossible fantasy adventure and possibly a touch of steampunk or something. What I got was a wild romp through multiple worlds filled with magic, vampires, werewolves, spies and dragons. This genre bending book has it all and more.

THE INVISIBLE LIBRARY has a great cast of characters, awesome worldbuilding and tons of action and adventure with twists and turns you won't see coming.

I can't wait to read the rest of the books in this series.


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Forever and One Week by Caroline Cairn

Forever and One WeekSpirits of SaoradhBook TwoCaroline Cairn
Genre: Paranormal romance
Date of Publication: 24th April 2016
ISBN: 1532909055ASIN: B01EPTMFYA
Number of pages: 262Word Count: 78.5K
Cover Artist: Bree Archer
Book Description:
The Spirits of Saoradh, who carry the guilt of a crime they committed when they were alive, now spend their ghostly days in the Void, dark nothingness where time and space are distorted. Until they get bound to a human. As often as needed, that human can call them to the real world, ask them to grant a wish, then send them back to the Void. The Spirits also have to follow strict rules or be punished, unaware that they can earn their redemption through a selfless sacrifice.
Spirit Logan despises the obedience he has to show to his humans, and prefers the enjoyable solitude of the Void. For three years, he has managed to threaten them into severing their bond, thus having his memory wiped of their existence. Except his latest human, an emotionless woman with a secret past, isn’t scared of him. Worse, she doesn’t care about his ability to make wishes come true.
Tessa, a twenty-six-year-old nursery teacher in Fort William, Scotland, doesn’t expect a sullen ghost only she can see and touch to burst through her solid defences. Both dismayed and intrigued, she offers Logan a deal he can’t refuse: to live with her in the human world for one week, at the end of which she will agree to release him.
Slowly, Tessa braves through the safety of her detachment towards people to show Logan some kindness. But the more her feelings deepen, the more Logan increases his distance…
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Forever and One Week Playlists
Playlist for Logan
Playlist for Tessa Excerpt:
“What the hell do you want?”The sharpness of his voice didn’t shock her as much as him turning up in her dining room. She presented the coffee tin to the Spirit lurking in the shadowed corner. She didn’t notice herself pressing on the metal until it created a dent.“I would like a full one, please.”If he could fill the can with the same beans he had used the last time he had granted her wish, she would cry in happiness. His coffee had tasted like smooth chocolate with a hint of bitter nuttiness. The fruity flavour of her usual brand had suddenly vanished to blandness.“Are you asking for freaking coffee again? Are you serious?”Her extended arm began to ache. “Please, and I need some painting supplies, too.”He crossed his arms. She couldn’t watch the expression on his face as it was bathed in darkness, but his posture was relaxed. “I thought you didn’t need me.” The sarcasm was drenched in triumph. She brought the empty tin to her chest. He hadn’t been cross at her for her lack of reaction yesterday. He had been cross because he had been unable to rebuff her. “I take it you won’t give me anything.” She threw the tin in the bin. Feet spread out in front of her fridge, she opted for the last of the yoghurts, the lemon flavour one she hated. Why the supermarkets insisted on using this vile fruit in their value range, she had no idea. Paper lid removed, she tucked into her breakfast without enthusiasm, standing in the middle of the room.  “Are you kidding me?” She carried on eating, bracing herself for what was to come.“Hey—” He grunted with annoyance. “Hell, I don’t even know your name.”“Tessa.” The slightly acidic and too-sweet yoghurt churned her stomach.“Well, Tessa, you need to wish for it. I can’t get you anything until you use the proper word. Say it.”She plunged her spoon in the foul creaminess. “What’s the point? You’re going to refuse me anyway.” His arms unfolded as he levitated, crossed-legged, elbows wide. His fingertips drummed his thighs with increasing speed. “Try me.”She didn’t bother replying. She knew his kind. People who had to have their way because they considered themselves so much smarter than others. Tessa dealt with them with casual indifference, because that meant they wouldn’t search for trouble. They would leave her alone.But him?He grated that part of her she had put to sleep a long time ago. She didn’t like it.Not one bit. Yet it compelled her, like a chickenpox itch you know you shouldn’t scratch but can’t resist.Once she had dropped the empty yoghurt pot in the bin, she proceeded to wash her spoon, aware of a glare cutting a hole at the back of her head. She wiped the cutlery dry with slow movements, blew on it then polished it. The sound of fingertips on denim was getting louder in her ears. So he was getting frustrated. She couldn’t wait for his next move.Water running from the tap, she rinsed her sponge, soaked it in a lavender-scented cleaning spray and wiped every nook and cranny, from the sink to the kitchen counter, with deliberate fussiness. She lifted her kettle and her toaster, pushed her plant to the left, then back to its place, and scrubbed those pesky corners. The cupboard doors were next, after a few more sprays of lavender. If I started singing, would that be too much?His hoarse breathing had turned into a low growl. But she was too far gone to stop. So when her wrist got captured by a powerful hand, an unexpected thrill coursed through her. “Say it,” he ordered. “Say how much you wish for coffee.”His grip was painful. Implacable. It brought her back to reality, chased away that stupid excitement she never should have pursued. Logan was just like everyone else. No doubt he would resort to violence because she had taunted him. Because she hadn’t done as she was told.So she shut herself down, and let him pull her to face him.“Jesus Christ, not again.” He yanked his hand away from her. Images of her mother flashed like a nightmare. She had to concentrate to keep her vision focused on him.“How can you go from provoking me to this lifeless thing?” She rubbed her wrist, where his print had marked her flesh. He could scream as much as he wanted and take out his anger on her. A calm resolution had flooded her senses. It shielded her soul. Nothing would hurt now. The soft glow of his eyes had intensified to blazing gold, a sheer contrast to his reddening face. His eyebrows were so low they could cast their own shadow over his cheeks. And his lips…A painful twinge hit her in the throat. His bottom lip was cut, the blood dried up as a crust. But it was his neck that had her stumbling back against her sink. It had two perfectly parallel, crimson crevices crossing from one side to the other. She was no expert, but these scars were fresh, and made by a razor-sharp blade. She could swear it. His tirade halted abruptly.He seemed to hesitate between retreating in the corner and standing his ground. That he chose the latter didn’t surprise her.
“That’s none of your business,” he replied to her silent question.
About the Author:
Born in France, Caroline studied hotel management before spending a couple of years in England, Ireland and Belgium. In 2001, she and her husband settled close to the Loch Ness monster in the Highlands of Scotland, and soon, two children and about thirteen fish joined them.
Dramatic scenes are her favourite to work on, which is perhaps a reminiscence of those teenage years when every single one of her stories had to end in epic tragedy (Shakespeare had nothing on her). Thankfully, these days, she veers towards the happy-ever-after finale set in a glorious orange and red sunset.
Apart from writing, she loves digital fantasy art, loud rock music, and anything weird and new for her to discover.
Website: https://carolinecairn.wordpress.com/
Twitter: @carolinecairn
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Caroline-Cairn-1657878831157408/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/6871319-caroline-cairn
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