Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 507
October 7, 2012
Halloween Costumes Over the Years
I love Halloween. It is my favorite holiday. It reminds of me my childhood and a lot of happy memories.
Plus I love all things creepy, spooky, witchy and fun so Halloween and I fit perfectly together.
Lately I've been thinking about Halloweens past and costumes I've had over the years.
I have a few favorite Halloween costumes and a few that were memorable because they were bad.
I can remember one of my first costumes- Wonder Woman. It was one of those awful plastic/vinyl costumes with the cheap plastic masks. You know those horrible costumes that ripped and fell apart before you were done trick or treating. If you were a kid trick or treating in the late 70s early 80s you know what I'm talking about. They were ugly, hot and scary.
Today's costumes are much better and sexier. A lot sexier. Have you seen the wide variety of sexy adult costumes available?
Pure Costumes has
It is the The Justice League Wonder Woman Adult Costume and includes headband, cape, leotard, belt, lasso, bracelets and boot tops.
I remember after that Wonder Woman debacle (and me crying because it fell apart) my mother made my costumes for the next several years.
For like three years in a row I was a
I can remember using some of my mom's old clothes and buying a cheap felt witch hat and being a witch for several years too.
The effect was nothing compared to the costumes available today.
Like this . I would have loved something sexy like this.
By the time I was a teen commercially available costumes had become a little better. One year I was pirate wench. It was a little sexy. I would have preferred something more like this wench which is brand new for 2012.
My senior year my mom made a belly dancer costume for me. Similar to this one though mine was red and gold.
In college I could not find the vampire costume I wanted so I designed it and had a woman sew it for me.
Halloween costumes have come along way over the past couple decades.
There are so many new Halloween Costume ideas for 2012
And where costumes used to focus on children now there are tons of adult costumes for Halloween available.
You can be anything you want- scary, sexy, funny, naughty...
and PureCostumes.com has them.
Right now Pure Costumes is offering $4.99 shipping on any size order and free shipping on orders over $50 just use code FREE50 during checkout.
If you use the facebook store you can get 5% off your order.
Visit Pure Costumes on facebook and twitter to stay up to date on all their sales and specials.
Plus I love all things creepy, spooky, witchy and fun so Halloween and I fit perfectly together.
Lately I've been thinking about Halloweens past and costumes I've had over the years.
I have a few favorite Halloween costumes and a few that were memorable because they were bad.
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I can remember one of my first costumes- Wonder Woman. It was one of those awful plastic/vinyl costumes with the cheap plastic masks. You know those horrible costumes that ripped and fell apart before you were done trick or treating. If you were a kid trick or treating in the late 70s early 80s you know what I'm talking about. They were ugly, hot and scary.
Today's costumes are much better and sexier. A lot sexier. Have you seen the wide variety of sexy adult costumes available?
Pure Costumes has
It is the The Justice League Wonder Woman Adult Costume and includes headband, cape, leotard, belt, lasso, bracelets and boot tops.
I remember after that Wonder Woman debacle (and me crying because it fell apart) my mother made my costumes for the next several years.
For like three years in a row I was a I can remember using some of my mom's old clothes and buying a cheap felt witch hat and being a witch for several years too.
The effect was nothing compared to the costumes available today. Like this . I would have loved something sexy like this.
By the time I was a teen commercially available costumes had become a little better. One year I was pirate wench. It was a little sexy. I would have preferred something more like this wench which is brand new for 2012.
My senior year my mom made a belly dancer costume for me. Similar to this one though mine was red and gold.In college I could not find the vampire costume I wanted so I designed it and had a woman sew it for me.
Halloween costumes have come along way over the past couple decades.
There are so many new Halloween Costume ideas for 2012
And where costumes used to focus on children now there are tons of adult costumes for Halloween available.
You can be anything you want- scary, sexy, funny, naughty...
and PureCostumes.com has them.
Right now Pure Costumes is offering $4.99 shipping on any size order and free shipping on orders over $50 just use code FREE50 during checkout.
If you use the facebook store you can get 5% off your order.
Visit Pure Costumes on facebook and twitter to stay up to date on all their sales and specials.
October 6, 2012
Halloween Memories Treat or Treat, Robots and Candy Corn By author Kathryn Meyer Griffith
Halloween Memories Treat or Treat, Robots and Candy Corn By author Kathryn Meyer Griffith
I believe I’m lucky. I grew up in the 1950’s and 1960’s. Halloween was so different back then. Simpler. More innocent. Exciting. A true holiday for children. And I have memories I’ll cherish my whole life.
My family was large. I had six siblings, three sisters and three brothers, and we never had much money. My dad was a salesman and my mother, like a lot of women during that time, didn’t work outside the home…she was busy enough raising seven children. We were the poor family down the street with too many kids living in the shabby two-story spooky looking house. Our neighbors shunned us or felt sorry for us. But I didn’t care, I had my family to love me. I had Grandmother Fehrt, my mother’s mother, to fill our bellies with food when the table was a little too bare. I had my ambitions and dreams, science fiction and scary library books to read and pictures to draw (I wanted to be an artist from the age of nine). I frolicked in the empty fields riddled with deep gullies beside our house with my brothers and sisters or ran the dark streets and woods playing hide-and-go-seek. Sang to the moon on our rusty swing set in the backyard with my brother, Jim. Or, on a black and white TV set, watched Zorro, the Twilight Zone or The Lone Ranger on swelteringly hot nights in a house with no air-conditioning. Sweet days and nights. Poignant memories now that many of my family are gone.
Halloween was my favorite holiday, next to Christmas. I remember one, when I was about ten or so, vividly. It was cold and raining, but nothing stopped us four older children (the rest were too young that year) from going out into the neighborhood and collecting big brown bags of free candy. No, not when candy was so rare for us. My parents could hardly keep enough food in the house, much less buy us sweets. So Halloween meant a windfall of treats. Nothing kept us home on that night. We’d quickly eat the bowls of chili Mom would insist we eat as the sun went down. Another tradition. So we had some real food in our stomachs before the glut of candy came.My mother, money being sparse as always, dressed us two girls up as gypsies, using her old costume jewelry and tying bright scarfs around our heads and waists. My younger brother Jon, wore an old sheet with cut out eye slots. A ghost. My other brother, Jim, had outdone himself that year and, out of two cardboard boxes and paint, had fashioned himself a robot. Wasn’t bad for an eight year old, either. Made it hard for him to walk, though. He stumbled a lot.
That night we traipsed through the wet woods, a short cut, to the rich subdivision down the road that – oh, my – gave out those huge candy bars at each door, enormous homemade popcorn balls or bags of candy corn, my favorite. My grandmother had taught Jim and I a catchy song…G-i-n-g-a, G-i-n-g-a, G-i-n-g-a…Ginga was his name. Never understood that song but I think it was about a pet dog or something. Jim and I got so much good feedback, so many treats for belting it out, though, that at Christmas we were performing The Little Drummer Boy for anyone we could corner and sing to. The beginning of our later singing folk duo (so big in the 60’s) and then my short (my brother kept singing out as I began writing my novels) singing career, no doubt.
We had a great haul that night. Cold and rainy as it was. Frozen as our faces and fingers became. Maybe got even more goodies because it was so inclement. We went to all the houses, collected our booty, and ecstatic at our bulging bags, at the end of the night, ran through the trees toward home. Trying to beat the rain, which had become a deluge, worst of the night. With noisy thunder, and spectacular lightning. It was sooo spooky. In the spirit of the night, we were sure something bad was following us. We ran faster. Our paper bags getting soaked as we cradled them against our shivering bodies.Then, clumsy in his robot disguise (he kept bumping into trees because he couldn’t see) Jim fell over a tree limb and spilled his candy everywhere. As he cried, we scurried around trying to salvage what we could. Didn’t do much good. Too dark. The rain was too heavy. So the three of us promised to share our booty with him and we led him home.
As we were drying off and warming up, Mom and Dad smiled at our stories of singing for our candy and all the strange ghouls and monsters we’d met on the way; laughed over Jim’s mishap and gave us hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows to drink.
Then there was a knock at the front door and when we looked, there was Grandma Fehrt, dressed as a wicked witch, complete with tall black hat and long dress, cackling at us. Trying to fool us. But we all knew it was her. She dressed up every year and knocked at our door. Always a witch.
We kids hugged her and laughed, then sat at the table counting out (and oohing and aahing with glee) over our candy haul. We shared it with Jim, of course.
To this day I remember that Halloween with a wistful smile. Such good times from so long ago. I see my brothers and sisters young faces through the mists of time, remember the thrill of singing with my brother for the first time and the delight of the people giving us the candy in exchange for the song. I remember my parents and the love in that drafty old house we scampered back to. I remember my grandmother with her smiling witch eyes and painted face. Remember going to bed with a stomach ache because I’d eaten too much candy. Heck, I always did. And I remember those no longer with us. My father, my mother, one of my brothers and all of my grandparents.My childhood, when I think of nights like that, is just a moment away. The dead are with me again. Ah, I’d give anything to go back in time and be with all of them once more. The way we were. Young and hopeful and with our lives ahead of us. Enjoying each other’s company…and all that good candy.
Anything.
***************************************************************************About Kathryn Meyer Griffith...
Since childhood I’ve always been an artist and worked as a graphic designer in the corporate world and for newspapers for twenty-three years before I quit to write full time. I began writing novels at 21, over forty years ago now, and have had sixteen (nine romantic horror, two romantic SF horror, one romantic suspense, one romantic time travel and two murder mysteries) previous novels and eight short stories published from Zebra Books, Leisure Books, Avalon Books, The Wild Rose Press, Damnation Books and Eternal Press.
I’ve been married to Russell for thirty-four years; have a son, James, and two grandchildren, Joshua and Caitlyn, and I live in a small quaint town in Illinois called Columbia, which is right across the JB Bridge from St. Louis, Mo. We have three quirky cats, ghost cat Sasha, live cats Cleo and Sasha (Too), and the five of us live happily in an old house in the heart of town. Though I’ve been an artist, and a folk singer in my youth with my brother Jim, writing has always been my greatest passion, my butterfly stage, and I’ll probably write stories until the day I die…or until my memory goes.
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October 4, 2012
The Secret Within By AF Acosta
For all you paranormal romance junkies looking for your next fixBRUXA
The Secret Within
I dare you to discover the secret
Blog tour special price $1.99 Until Nov 1,2012 Plus be one of the lucky four to claim your original Bruxa bracelet for contest rules visit www.af-costa.com
An Alvero Exclusive
I should have never tempted fait, like a magnetic pull, I had this eternal desire to see her in the flesh. It had been year since I last seen this child, the thought of Matthias creating life saved me from my never-ending darkness.I could always sense her as I quietly watched from a distance, with her mother’s protective magic gone, I leaped at the chance to see her. I knew she had grown-up, nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to catch sight of. In all my 600 years I have never desired anything more, the very thing I use to hunt and kill has possessed me fully.I can destroy her at any giving moment, but she welcomes me, it’s as if she hold my soul. She has bewitched me. Her very essence quenches my thirst and I have no desire to feed, I feel alive and human again, when I am near her. It kills me to hide in the shadows as another gains her affections, I hate that I can’t bring myself to face her. I fear she will remember, the night I first saw her 10 years ago, the night that forever changed our worlds.
Bruxa The Secret WithinBy AF Acosta
Genre: Paranormal YAPaperback: 400 pages
ISBN-10: 1463704275ISBN-13: 978-1463704278
Gabriella is no ordinary seventeen-year-old girl. She is the last to carry her mother’s rare bloodline of Bruxa, an ancient secret order of witches.
Settling into her late father’s estate, she is welcomed by a phantom presence that resurrects within her, a secret curse her father took to his grave ten years ago. Gabriella finally finds a sense of belonging and gains the affections of high school’s most desired boy, Joey Davale. Her newly found life becomes derailed when she learns her whole existence has been a lie, and the boy she’s falling for, is designed to destroy the very thing growing inside of her.
Forced to conceal this truth, Gabriella embarks on a secret life that will drive her into the arms of Alvero, the embodiment of her darkest fear. Her newly found heritage traps her in a dangerous web of lies between two worlds and two loves. Her life will become more dangerous than she ever imagined. As the age-old battle between witches and vampires collide, will she fall prey to her heart or welcome the predator inside?
The Intense and stylized, A.F.Costa’s debut is an alluring live wire full of intrigue and forbidden love. Bruxa: the secret within, powerful vision of witches and vampires will challenge your understanding and leave you craving more.
Smashwords Amazon
About the Author:A.F. Costa has been creating vivid, imaginary worlds before she could even pick up a book, so it was only natural for her to put a pen to paper the moment she learned to write. Growing up with rich Latin superstitions and strong spiritual beliefs sparked her interests for the paranormal world.
Captivating small audiences with her campfire stories resurrected her passion for writing, but seeing her same passions for reading and writing developing in her son has inspired her the most.
Toronto, Ontario-based stylist A.F.Costa has been showcasing her creative abilities for over sixteen years, working with some of the best in the industry. As it is with her visual creativity, A.F. Costa brings the same passion to her writing. In Bruxa: the Secret Within, you‘ll discover an innovative world of witches and vampires like no other, blending Latin, Portuguese and Hebrew folklore into a modern day love story with an unforgettable twist.
www.af-costa.com
twitter www.twitter.com/af_costa
facebook page www.facebook.com/A.F.Costa.Bruxa
BruxaThe Secret within Tour Giveaway
Discover the Secret at www.af-costa.com for rulesFour lucky wins will receive one these custom-made Bracelets Contest ends November 28 2012
Happy readingsA.F.Costa
Love of the Bad Boy with Georgia Cates
Love of the Bad Boy
Good girls crave bad boys in real life and fiction. They come in all forms-fallen angels, vampires, werewolves, shifters, jocks, rakes, boys with bad attitudes. The list could go on and on, but there is one thing for certain-bad boys are our guilty pleasure.
Some of us might be too afraid to act on our inner bad boy desires in reality, especially young women and teens, so we choose to get our “fix” through fiction. It’s safe. Fictional bad boys don’t hurt us like bad boys in real life will and we’re almost always guaranteed a happy ending. But...what does a happy ending with a bad boy mean?
We have to begin with why we love a bad boy to understand how to get the happily ever after with him. It’s a simple fact that bad boys are damaged and we want to save them. We want to change them. We want to be the first woman he ever loves. And the last...sigh.
Bad boys don’t fall in love easily, so you’ve accomplished the near impossible when you win his heart. When the right woman breaks through his icy exterior, he will fall hard and forever, so you better watch out. There is no limit to the extremes he will go to in order to protect the love of his life. We crave that powerful protection. It’s sexy and being protected makes us feel wanted and sexy. In short...a bad boy makes the perfect boy to fall in love with instead of the worst.
We all have our favorite bad boys and I’d love to share some of my list toppers with you.1. Jessie Boone from Going Under by Georgia Cates. (He’s my character, so I had to list him first. Man...he is so hot with all of his tattoo yumminess.)2. Travis Maddox from Beautiful Disaster by Jamie McGuire.3. Beau Vincent from The Vincent Boys by Abbi Glines4. Daemon Black from Obsidian by Jennifer Armentrout5. Keilor from The Charmer by Autumn Dawn (Not a YA book, but definitely Bad Boy nomination worthy.)
Good luck with finding your next Bad Boy read to satisfy your guilty pleasure.
ShallowGoing Under SeriesBook 2By Georgia CatesGenre: Young Adult Contemporary
Formats available: ebook
Cover Artist: Georgia Cates
Book Description:
Nick Hawke likes his car fast and his girls even faster. He blows through females quicker than his muscle car races down the drag strip in Collinsville and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Determined to avoid the devastation he has watched his father endure in the aftermath of his mother leaving, he believes there is no room in his life or his heart for a relationship lasting more than one night. He seeks happiness in things that won’t let him down...fast cars, parties and one night stands. To his absolute dismay, all of that changes when he unexpectedly runs into an old friend and is introduced to Payton Archer, the first girl he ever wanted for more than one night. There’s only one catch...she is completely immune to him and his smooth talking ways.
Payton Archer is looking for what Claire has with Jessie, but she has given up on finding it...at least until she leaves for college in the Fall because she is certain that is where she will find the perfect guy to fit into her perfect world. She plans on Summer being nothing but three uneventful months of fun, but it turns out to be anything but ordinary when Payton is introduced to Nick Hawke, one of Jessie’s old Collinsville friends. She is shocked by her immediate and intense attraction for “Hawke” because nothing about him is what Payton is looking for. Sure, he’s hot and sexy but he comes from Collinsville and that is definitely not on her list of prerequisites.
Everything about him makes Payton’s heart speed because he is exciting and dangerous, but his fast car and the dangerous chances he takes isn’t what scares Payton the most...it’s the way Nick Hawke makes her feel every time he looks at her. Can Payton find that moment of total fearlessness and make the decision to leave the safe, shallow end of love to risk going under completely?
About the Author:Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author.
Blood of Anteros, Book One in The Vampire Agápe Series, was her first novel and it was released in September 2011. She decided to briefly step away from the paranormal genre to try her hand at a young adult contemporary romance when she wrote Going Under, but returned to the paranormal romance platform to complete the second book in The Vampire Agápe Series, Blood Jewel.
Her current works in progress are Shallow (A Going Under Novel) which will release on September 27th and Blood Doll (The Vampire Agápe Series #3), to be released in January 2013.
Georgia Cates BlogGeorgia Cates on FacebookGeorgia Cates on TwitterShallow on Goodreads
October 2, 2012
The Home for Halloween Giveaway
Enter the Rafflecopter to win your choice of a Kindle Fire, Nook HD, or Kobo Glo, as well as signed books and audiobooks in the Home for Halloween giveaway from author Scott Nicholson.
The giveaway celebrates the launch of paranormal thriller The Home . Experiments at a group home for troubled children lead to paranormal activity—and the ghosts are from the home’s dark past as an insane asylum.
In development as a feature, it’s available in ebook at Amazon US, Amazon UK, BN.com, Kobo, and Smashwords.
EXCERPT: THE HOMEBy Scott Nicholson(From Chapter 8)Inside Thirteen, the boy’s outline was faintly visible in the darkness. His eyes snapped open and his gasp was audible over the microphone. The heart rate graph rose in intensity. Bondurant clenched his fingers.Darkness. He’ll think he’s back in the closet. Now he’ll scream.The boy sat up. On the monitor, the twin lines rose and fell in parallel motion. The brain image glowed in bands of red and indigo.“See the upper reading?” Kracowski said. “That’s his energy field as measured across the meridian points I devised. Did you notice how erratic the reading was before my treatment?”“You mean before you gave him electroshock?”“Mr. Bondurant, that’s a crude comparison. I’m not a psychosurgeon. I don’t try to cure by destroying the brain. I don’t give frontal lobotomies, or whatever term they use these days for systematic depersonalization. I merely drive away the traumatic residue that blocks the normal functioning of the brain’s neurotransmitters.”Gobbledygook, Bondurant thought. Kracowski’s technobabble was as bad as the counselors’ psychobabble.Mario looked around, unhurried, curious. It had taken three grown men to restrain the boy during his first night here, when the lights were turned out in the Blue Room and the boy fled for the exit, clawed at the walls, rammed his skull against the steel door. Now the boy sat in the dark as if meditating with open eyes.“He’s not screaming,” Bondurant said.“He doesn’t seem to be uncomfortable in the confined space,” Kracowski said.The monitor showed the top line on the chart had leveled out while the bottom line rose and fell steadily. Kracowski waved a hand to indicate the pattern. “Calm as a nursing infant.”“I must admit, the treatment is impressive. How long do the effects last?”“My initial research shows that it may be temporary. But even if the neurotransmitters must be, shall we say, ‘realigned’ every month, that’s a much better success rate than any of your shrinks can claim.”Mario looked at the mirror, and for a moment, Bondurant was struck with the impression that the boy could see him. “What about potential cardiac damage?”“No chance. It’s as if a light switch was flipped off and then back on.”“Let’s hope so. One incident, and the state licensing board and the Social Services investigators will sweep through this place like storm troopers. I don’t think they would find your techniques in the chapter on standard practices.”“Your job is to keep them away. At least until I’ve finished my work. Then they, like the rest of the world, will finally see the light.”
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Interview with J Bridger
Can you tell readers a little bit about yourself and what inspired to write in this particular genre?
My name is J. and I have been into the horror and paranormal genre for as long as I can remember. Even as a little kid, I was fascinated by Halloween and also any type of story or cartoon that dealt with shapeshifting. I used to make my mom tell me a new story every night about that.
Please tell us about your latest release.
My latest release is my debut novel, Shifted Perspective, which is about a senior in high school, named Caleb, who wakes up one morning as a Cocker Spaniel. I like to think about it with a tag line of “What would you do if you had what you believed was the world’s lamest super power?”
We always see “chosen ones” or just sexy and cool shifters. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with being a were-canine with extra fluffy curls, but it’s not mysterious or exciting either!
What inspired you to write this book?
A mix of things, including my four dogs and all their wacky behavior. There was just that digging what if in my mind of both “What are they really thinking behind those big puppy eyes?” and “How would you deal with an ability that didn’t seem to have any pros or advantages?”
Do you have a special formula for creating characters' names? Do you try to match a name with a certain meaning to attributes of the character or do you search for names popular in certain time periods or regions?
It really depends. Sometimes I want something that fits with the ethnicity of the character. Kalista for Caleb’s cousin was a very easy one to come up with as she’s Greek-American. I think that Caleb’s mom’s name was something that came later after additional research. It was originally Colleen but became Kira in later drafts for reasons that’ll become clearer in future novels, actually. The most fun name is Peter because it’s a play on the title of a Prokofiev musical composition.
Is there a character that you enjoyed writing more than any of the others?
Personally, I love Penny, the beagle-shifter sometimes fake-psychic and sometimes L.A.P.D. worker, who drags Caleb into the murder mystery of the novel. She’s flippant, competent, and doesn’t take a lot of his hesitance lightly. She just bowls right into things. However, Sampson is a second favorite. He’s Caleb’s elderly pet blood hound who acts as a sarcastic father figure.
Do you have a formula for developing characters? Like do you create a character sketch or list of attributes before you start writing or do you just let the character develop as you write?
I like to do sketches first and then a bit of an outline throughout the course of the novel for their character development. I say I like to because that’s how everyone in the cast came to be except for Penny. She just appeared and surprised me.
What is the most interesting thing you have physically done for book related research purposes?
So far? I drove out to Mt. Airy, North Carolina, from my home in Raleigh in order to get a lay of the land. For those who don’t know, it’s the home of Andy Griffith and the town Mayberry is based on in The Andy Griffith Show. My grandmother is from there, and I hadn’t been back since I was a kid so I did a literal trip down memory lane to capture Caleb’s hometown.
Can you tell readers a little bit about the world building in the book/series? How does this world differ from our normal world?
It’s pretty close to ours in some ways. I mean, as it starts out, Caleb thinks he’s in a very normal, very orderly world where he’ll graduate high school as Valedictorian, go to Duke, and become a doctor. All dry, all normal. It’s only after he changes does he begin to realize there’s a lot going bump in the night that humans aren’t aware of.
In this novel, he meets other canine shape shifters as well as full werewolves and a witch. As I’m working through book two, I’m bringing in selkies as well. The big rule here is that there’s no “coming back from the dead.” Sorry, zombies and vampires aren’t around in this series.
With the book being part of a series, are there any character or story arcs, that readers jumping in somewhere other than the first book, need to be aware of? Can these books be read as stand alones?
Well, this is book one but book two is underway/being written. I’d say that, overall, it’s always best to read a series with number one. I’m trying very hard to make book two accessible and bring up enough past information so people can catch up but returning readers aren’t bogged down. I think the most important things to know is that Caleb is sort of split between two worlds since he was brought up human and has his dad and dog, Sampson, supporting him and representing his North Carolinian roots. On the other side, is a life in L.A. that’s a lot more crowded with both family members who care a lot about him and maybe new friends but also a lot more danger and enemies too. He’s just a guy in a transition period with nothing to bring to the table but his wits and, well, sometimes floppy ears and a wet nose.
Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? How do you deal with it?
Sometimes! There are times that I sit patiently and give myself a few days off, but eventually, I just sit myself down and make me type a thousand words of the next story or chapter even if it takes four or five hours and seems to suck to me. The most important thing, what I learned from reading King’s On Writing, is to treat this like a job. You have to go to work every day even if you just type “Mary had a little lamb” for an hour. You’ll start writing anything to avoid that monotony!
Do you have any weird writing quirks or rituals?
I love to write to the soundtrack for the musical Pippin. I have had the whole thing memorized since I was in the play in high school, and it just soothes me like nothing else. I will admit, though, that I also will put on some Nostalgia Critic classics in the background too for the release of some good laughs!
What can readers expect next from you?
Two things, actually. I’m prepping the second novel for this winter. I have it outlined and have written the first bit, but I really wouldn’t expect it out till maybe February or March, earliest. Like I said, that one is going to have a selkie in it and some of the arcs from book one get continued there as well, so I can’t give too much away!
I’m also doing a short story collection of four to five stories for Christmas. Those won’t be spoilers for anything in book two and most will be flashback things, such as how Caleb’s parents spent their first Christmas together…things like that. That one will be out in early December of this year.
Where can readers find you on the web?
I have a lot of places, actually. I have a GoodReadspage, a Facebook fan page, a blog, a Tumblr, and a Twitter. I’m most active on my blog and twitter, to be honest, and really like reblogging just funny images on Tumblr. I do try to make rounds everywhere though.
Would you like to leave readers with a little teaser or excerpt from the book?Sure!
When I woke, I knew something was off. The sun was just rising over the horizon and I had no idea how I'd managed to sleep almost for twenty-four hours. My hearing didn't pound in my head, but that wasn't reassuring. Shaking my head, I shivered with the cold. I'd slept walked again and of all things come to rest on the sofa downstairs.
This was getting ridiculous but at least it didn't involve waking up tangled in drying deer hide. Thank God for small favors.
"Christ this is pathetic," I said to no one in particular. Then I froze, everything muscle in my body taught.
I hadn't heard my voice, not at all.
But I had heard a series of plaintive barks.
What in the world?
Scared, I started just trying something simple, starting into the alphabet, but it was just more barking. I gulped and braced myself. Looking down, all I saw were four modest-sized black paws.
I could only hope I was hallucinating.
Shifted PerspectiveTails of Change Book OneBy J. Bridger
Genre: paranormal young adult
Number of pages: 192 (as a word doc/.PDF)Word Count: 69, 977
Cover Artist: Rebecca Weaver
Book Description:
Caleb Byrne is a bright high school senior who has enough to deal with between college choices, taking care of his single dad, and dealing with his headstrong girlfriend Joanna and an eccentric set of cousins in California. He was managing to get by until the day he woke up a Cocker Spaniel. Even if it only happens monthly and is more embarrassing than painful, the so-called ability is something that he's anxious to be rid of.
He didn't realize his transformations would drag him into a hidden society of canine and lupine shape shifters as well as a family legacy he hates. To make matters worse, after moving to Los Angeles to learn more about his heritage from his Aunt Moira and his cousin Kalista, Caleb now struggles through life-and-death matters. He keeps angering the werewolves in charge of the shifter world, especially Kalista's boyfriend Peter, the Southern California alpha's son, who also happens to be grade-A sociopath. Worse, Caleb's floundering to keep his secret from Joanna.
While his family offers him some support, they may not be enough as Caleb realizes that the rules in shifter society---number one being don't kill humans---are not so ironclad. Some werewolf out there is leaving a blood-soaked trail across the Midwest and it might just be with the alpha's blessing...
Author Bio:
J. Bridger has had an eclectic life. She’s worked in the psychiatric ward in a hospital in La Paz, Bolivia, been a veterinary intern giving all sorts of better-left-to-the-imagination exams to dogs and cats, and had her own spate in creating and running a television ad campaign. Currently, in her day job, she is getting her certification as a medical Spanish interpreter in the Raleigh-Durham area of North Carolina.
By night, she’s a fledgling author, who has just penned her debut novel, Shifted Perspective; she is currently working on its sequel, the next installment of The Tails of Change Series. J.’s always loved things that go bump (or that howl) in the night and devoured Stephen King, Anne Rice, and Clive Barker starting in middle school. Her favorite shows are no less preternatural and include Big Wolf on Campus, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Teen Wolf. While she’s been writing fiction for eight years and been published in several academic journals for her psychological research, this is her first venture into published original fiction.
J. Bridger lives in Raleigh with two Yorkies, a beagle, and a Schnauzer-Yorkie mix (as well as far too many dust bunnies).
Blog - http://www.jbridgerwriting.blogspot.com/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/JBridger1313
Tumblr -http://www.tumblr.com/blog/jbridger1313
October 1, 2012
Interview with J Bridger
Sept 10 Blitz
Cover2CoverBlogwww.cover2coverblog.blogspot.com
Fang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com
Roxanne’s Realmwww.roxannesrealm.blogspot.com
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Sept 11- Oct 9
September 12 Guest blog and reviewUnabridged Andrahttp://unabridgedandralyn.blogspot.com
September 15 SpotlightI Just Wanna Sit Here and Read!http://www.sithereandread.com/
September 15 InterviewBewitching Book Tours Magazine
September 18 Interview and reviewHappy Tales and Tails www.magluvsya03.wordpress.com
September 20 Guest blogFor The Love Of Film And Novelshttp://www.fortheloveoffilmandnovels.com/
September 21 SpotlightBooks & Beautyhttp://janieraeldridge.blogspot.com
October 2 InterviewFang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com
October 3 PromoRoxanne’s Realmwww.roxannesrealm.blogspot.com
October 5 InterviewThe Creatively Green Write at Home Momwww.creativelygreen.blogspot.com
October 9 reviewBooks, Books, and More Bookshttp://dream-reader-dreamer2229.blogspot.com/
October 9 PromoIndiewritersreviewhttp://indiewritersreview.wordpress.com/
Shifted PerspectiveTails of Change Book OneBy J. Bridger
Genre: paranormal young adult
Number of pages: 192 (as a word doc/.PDF)Word Count: 69, 977
Cover Artist: Rebecca Weaver
Book Description:
Caleb Byrne is a bright high school senior who has enough to deal with between college choices, taking care of his single dad, and dealing with his headstrong girlfriend Joanna and an eccentric set of cousins in California. He was managing to get by until the day he woke up a Cocker Spaniel. Even if it only happens monthly and is more embarrassing than painful, the so-called ability is something that he's anxious to be rid of.
He didn't realize his transformations would drag him into a hidden society of canine and lupine shape shifters as well as a family legacy he hates. To make matters worse, after moving to Los Angeles to learn more about his heritage from his Aunt Moira and his cousin Kalista, Caleb now struggles through life-and-death matters. He keeps angering the werewolves in charge of the shifter world, especially Kalista's boyfriend Peter, the Southern California alpha's son, who also happens to be grade-A sociopath. Worse, Caleb's floundering to keep his secret from Joanna.
While his family offers him some support, they may not be enough as Caleb realizes that the rules in shifter society---number one being don't kill humans---are not so ironclad. Some werewolf out there is leaving a blood-soaked trail across the Midwest and it might just be with the alpha's blessing...
Author Bio:
J. Bridger has had an eclectic life. She’s worked in the psychiatric ward in a hospital in La Paz, Bolivia, been a veterinary intern giving all sorts of better-left-to-the-imagination exams to dogs and cats, and had her own spate in creating and running a television ad campaign. Currently, in her day job, she is getting her certification as a medical Spanish interpreter in the Raleigh-Durham area of North Carolina.
By night, she’s a fledgling author, who has just penned her debut novel, Shifted Perspective; she is currently working on its sequel, the next installment of The Tails of Change Series. J.’s always loved things that go bump (or that howl) in the night and devoured Stephen King, Anne Rice, and Clive Barker starting in middle school. Her favorite shows are no less preternatural and include Big Wolf on Campus, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Teen Wolf. While she’s been writing fiction for eight years and been published in several academic journals for her psychological research, this is her first venture into published original fiction.
J. Bridger lives in Raleigh with two Yorkies, a beagle, and a Schnauzer-Yorkie mix (as well as far too many dust bunnies).
Blog - http://www.jbridgerwriting.blogspot.com/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/JBridger1313
Tumblr -http://www.tumblr.com/blog/jbridger1313
Guest blog and Giveaway with Claire Ashgrove
Good morning, everyone! Thanks for having me here today. I caught up with the reclusive Declan while I was wandering through the temple the other afternoon, and I managed to get him to sit still for some answers. He agreed, surprisingly. Here’s what our handsome Scot had to say:Claire: What made you decide to isolate yourself from your brothers, to join Leofric?
Declan: Leofric is a man I have long admired and he has always held the Templar interests in high esteem. As I willna take a seraph, I saw a need I could satisfy in the little time I have remaining in this lifetime. His purpose is noble, his commitment to the Order values is unmoving, and there are many amongst us, such as Tane and Gottfriend, who dishonor what we stand for.
Claire: When you interfered in the growing relationship with Farran and Noelle, what was the purpose?
Declan: Only to return them to the proper path. As you well know we are sworn to a Code. Their pairing may be inevitable. How they choose to go about it should remain as noble as the oaths we have sworn. A slight distance between them shouldna cause harm.
Claire: But if the archangels and the Almighty have it set this way, why would you believe it is up to you to change it?
Declan: Och! Nay. ‘Tis not so. What has been set is the pairing of knight and seraph. Not how that is executed.
Claire: I think I follow the logic. So how do you feel about the appearance of the Noelle as the second seraph?
Declan: I am most pleased for Sir Farran now that the oaths have been taken and vows are intact. ‘Tis encouraging for the Order as a whole to have another seraph found. My brother is a lucky man, as is Merrick. Would that the archangels would see others quickly matched as well, and we shall again be strong.
Claire: You said you wouldn’t take a seraph. Do you think Gabriel will try to pair you before your soul turns?
Declan shakes his head. ‘Twould not matter. Like Caradoc, I willna take a seraph. My reasonings are mine own, though well founded. I will walk amongst angels before I force a woman to accept me for eternity.
Claire: You were reluctant to talk about why your lack of faith and meaning brought you to the Templar in our last meeting, are you willing to shed light now?
Declan: Nay, lass. I understand you are curious, and I donna wish to offend. But ‘tis personal and of the past. Allow it to remain there.
Claire: I guess I don’t have much choice. Okay, I promised not to keep you long, so I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doing. Thanks again.
Declan stands and offers a slight bow. Thank you, lass. Safe journeys to you.
Claire: You as well, Declan.
Immortal Surrender Back Cover BlurbFarran de Clare, loyal member of the cursed Knights Templar, wants nothing to do with predestined mates. Even the Almighty won’t turn him into a fool again—he’d rather sacrifice his soul. Yet in the scientist Noelle Keane, a devout atheist, Farran meets the seraph designed for him.
Ordered by the archangel Gabriel to protect Noelle, the possessor of a sacred relic that could give Azazel incredible power, Farran swears to do his duty—but in name only. Fighting an attraction that grows with each day, he’s determined that he’ll never pledge himself to her.
As they war over her future, their mutual passion ignites a conflict far more damning. But before Noelle will agree to eternity with him, she demands the ultimate sacrifice – his heart.
“This series (The Curse of the Templars) is explosive, sexy, riveting, and Claire Ashgrove is a master of her craft.” ~ NYTimes Bestselling Author, Maggie Shayne
Excerpt:
EXCERPT #1
“Damnation,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
He stalked back to the bed. No longer concerned for her injuries, he snatched up her fingers and inspected the scar once more. Nay, his eyes did not play tricks. She bore a dagger on her hand. It matched his as if someone had miniaturized the eighteen-inch-long weapon and scalded it into her flesh.
She belonged to him.
The door opened, and Farran’s head snapped up. He returned Louise’s pleasant smile with a glare. “You may undress the wench.” He shouldered past the aging caretaker, ignoring the way she spluttered.
So Gabriel sought to pair him with a maid, did he? ‘Twas no wonder the archangel did not forewarn him of her nature. Gabriel well knew Farran would rather swallow his own sword.
He took the stairs two at a time, in desperate need of fresh air. His fingers twitched with the need to pummel something. A seraph! Hisseraph! God’s teeth, would he be allowed no mercy? Could he not just leave this world and be done with life?
In the wide front room, Farran braced his hands on the table and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Duty bound him to accept the pairing. With the oaths they were fated to take, the Templar would gain much needed strength. Much as he would like nothing more, he could not walk away from the woman in the bed upstairs.
And yet . . .he did not have to stay either.
“Brother? Is something amiss?” Lucan’s voice drifted down the stairs.
Farran turned around and raised his glower to Lucan’s face. “You will go to her apartment. Fetch her cat. Fetch her things. Deliver them all to Mikhail.”
Lucan’s gaze narrowed with suspicion. “I trust you do not seek to have the maid to yourself?”
“Nay!” God’s teeth, nay. He would no more touch her now than he would touch a snake. He would say his oath, deliver her to the temple, and leave with the first light.
Cocking his head, Lucan studied him. Slow dawning filtered into his expression, and he answered with a thoughtful nod. “You recognize her mark. I shall have her mate sent here.”
Farran exhaled through his teeth. At his thigh, he clenched a hand into a tight fist. “There is no need for such.”
“Farran, you cannot be serious. She must be paired at once. ’Tis written—”
“She is mine, Lucan.” With the vile truth exposed, Farran stormed out the door.
Giveaway Time:
Claire is giving away one digital copy of any one of her backlist books, excepting those in the Templar series, to one randomly drawn commenter at each stop on the blog tour.
In addition, commenters’ names will be added into the tour-end drawing of a 25.00 Amazon gift card.
Follow the tour – the more you comment, the better your chances of winning.
Complete tour dates can be found here.
You must leave a valid email address to be entered into the contest.
Now on Tour Lark's End by Christina Pritchard
A Bibliophiles Thoughts on Bookshttp://bibliophilesthoughtsonbooks.blogspot.com/
Andi's Young Adult Books (review later)http://andisyoungadult.blogspot.com
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Qwerty http://zue-leysza.blogspot.com.au/
Stuffed shelvesWww.stuffedshelves.com
Guest blogLunar Haven Reviews & Designs – http://lunarhavenrd.blogspot.com
Character Interview by author (review)Dana's YA Bookpilehttp://danasyabookpile.blogspot.com/
Paranormal Goddess Book Bloghttp://paranormal-goddess.blogspot.com.au/
ReviewThe Speculative Salon: http://speculativesalon.blogspot.com/
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October 5 Fantasy Fridayhttp://claireashgrove.blogspot.com/
October 29 reviewhttp://andisyoungadult.blogspot.com
Lark’s EndBook One; The Fall of Gadaie SeriesChristina Leigh Pritchard
Genre: Fantasy Intermediate/YA
Number of pages: 429Word Count: 93,000
Cover Artist: Mohamed Zakzouk
Book Description:
From the author of the C I N Series, comes an epic fantasy world filled with nothing but constant action and adventure. A new world, new life forms, and another twisted and complex story from author Christina Leigh Pritchard!
Mary wants to kill them. But, someone stands in her way...
Tahmi has nightmares of an old man in a sailor's suit, dropping her off, on her doorstep. When she tells her parents about him they look sick. Could her dream have some truth to it? Is that old man the reason they won't allow her in the woods behind their house?
What are they hiding from her? Who is she?
TAHMI, she's just an ordinary girl, right?
Lark’s End, is the first of eight books in the epic fantasy series The Fall of Gadaie. For extras, (characters, illustrations, book trailers, maps) please visit the blog dedicated to the series: www.gadaie.com
BONUS MATERIAL INCLUDED AFTER STORY (kindle version only)
66+ illustrated photos created by Omaik Digital Art
About the Author:Christina Leigh Pritchard was born and raised in South Florida. Her first stories were written at the age of nine in $0.15 wide ruled spiral notebooks (which were supposed to be used for class) ;o)~ and in the various diaries she kept. Stories she wrote from age nine to twelve fill about four storage boxes!
Since she's upgraded to a computer, she's completed over fifty books and still going strong. Her genres include dark fantasy, young adult, drama, suspense, historical romance, multicultural, comedy, poetry and many more.
Her main aspirations in life are: her dog, Teacup; the beach, writing and well, writing! The author says, "I breathe novels.”
www.Gadaie.com
www.Twitter.com/teeny120
www.Teeny120.wordpress.comhttp://www.amazon.com/Christina-Leigh-Pritchard/e/B0039ZV2AU
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Christina-Leigh-Pritchard/118941638145057
I am Just Junco Blitz
Guest blogThe Insane Ramblings of a Crazed Writer, www.jessekimmelfreeman.com/blog.html
The Bunny's Review http://bunnysreview.com
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October 2 InterviewBooks, Books The Magical Fruithttp://booksbooksthemagicalfruit.blogspot.com
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October 7 Guest blogwww.reviewsbymolly.com
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October 12 Guest bloghttp://claireashgrove.blogspot.com/
October 16 Guest blog, excerptMother/Gamer/Writerhttp://empyreanedge.com
October 17 Guest bloghttp://www.kaydeeroyal.blogspot.com
October 23 Guest blog and reviewDarkest Addictions' Book Reviewshttp://darkestaddictions.blogspot.com
October 25 Guest blogLisa’s World of Bookswww.lisasworldofbooks.net
October 26 InterviewChocolate Coated Reviewshttp://chocolatecoatedreviews.blogspot.com
October 27 InterviewRoxanne’s Realmwww.roxannesrealm.blogspot.com
October 28 Guest blogThe Creatively Green Write at Home Momwww.creativelygreen.blogspot.com
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FlightBook 3
Escape from Earth. Check.
Morph into an avian body. Check.
Survive Fledge and Deliverance, soul intact. Check.
Bring her Siblings back to Amelia and restore the avian race? Not so fast, darlin’.
There’s a new twist on an old prophecy and this one brings the End of Days. Junco must make a choice, but the choices all confirm her only worth is tied up in killing.
Lucan has secrets. Secrets that will make the Stag Camp look like playschool. And the lies are flowing like a mountain river during spring thaw. But he needs Junco to cooperate just a little bit longer or it all falls apart.
The Siblings on Earth are waiting for the Seventh to return and pull their clutch together. But Earth has secrets too -- secrets that change everything.
Junco has survived against impossible odds, but the cost of survival is higher than she ever imagined. Luck is about to catch up with Junco Coot and her debt must be paid.
FledgeBook TwoJunco Coot can’t even remember her trip off Earth; she was too busy being morphed into her new avian body. But reality hits her hard when she wakes up to find her new life is not what she expected. Not even close. Tier is on trial for disobeying his commander’s kill order and only Junco seems to care.
In most places the avian coming-of-age Fledge ritual would be nothing more than mass murder, but here in the capital city of Amelia, it’s called growing up. Junco has no choice; either fight to the death to prove her worth or get sent back to Earth in the hands of her enemies.
Her new military team is hostile, her body is being taken over by an illicit artificial intelligence, the avian president wants her dead, and her only friend is a ten-year old throwaway boy.
On a foreign habitat, in a foreign culture, and surrounded by people she can’t trust or count on, Junco must find a way to save herself and Tier without losing her immortal soul in the process.
Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/b_LYS0N1OAY
FLEDGE FIRST CHAPTER
I burst out of the tank and the desperate gasp for air is like a prairie devil sucking up a farmhouse. My fists latch on to anything that will prevent me from going back under as waves of thick goo slosh around my body. Only the whine of plasma charge snaps me out of it and I allow a multitude of hands to grasp my arms and keep me still as the voice booms next to my head.
“Don’t make me regret letting you live, Junco.”
I cough and somewhere deep inside my vomit reflex is triggered. Shit comes up, clogging my airway and making me struggle against the firm hands. Since my eyes are still glued shut, I have no idea what comes out.
They pull me up out of the tank – completely out of the tank – so that I’m in mid-air for a few seconds, and then my feet hit the cold tile floor. My legs know what to do, but it’s not happening. They drag me and I count six pairs of boots as we travel. Damn. Six fucking avians for me. I’m about to feel special when I’m dumped on the floor. A door snaps shut and I know I am alone.
A hydraulic click makes me twitch as my heart pounds in my chest. I take a deep breath and Tier’s words come back to me. Trust no one. Show no weakness. I count to five to calm myself, breathing in and out, up and down, and then scoot on the floor until I bump into a wall. My hands flail out, finding a rail, then I pull myself up and force my legs to stand. My whole body shakes with fear, atrophy and cold, but the legs hold and I straighten my back, let go of the railing, and lift my chin.
And wait as the thick, sticky tank goo crusts in the ventilated room. My body feels lighter than normal and I realize that gravity must be less than one-G.
It helps.
A fine mist sprays out in all directions and I lift my arms up to let it coat me all over. It is only then, when my muscles are asked to respond, that I realize what’s happened.
The smile comes out and I laugh, soft at first, then wildly, hysterical, and I turn my face upward to the drizzle as my lids are freed from their prison. Hot water blasts the soap off my body and I finally open my eyes.
I expel the fear.
I’ve been reborn.
The water drenches me and then I step back to wipe my eyes and look around, holding the handrail for support. It’s a shower room, obviously. Small, but I can see through the clear surround that there are close to a hundred of them all lined up. Mine is the only one in use at the moment. I look through the glass to try and see if anyone is around, but the large room outside the stall appears empty.
My attention returns to my shower and I lather my new body with gel provided by a wall dispenser. When my hands touch my chest and upper back I gasp with the changes. My upper body is pure muscle. The smile creeps along my face as I imagine the new power this will bring to my old skills. I turn my head to try and see my wings but all I get is a glimpse of the tips as they roll over to cup my shoulders.
The water cuts off and the hot air blasts me in all directions, making my long hair fly up and whip around my face. Several minutes later the door opens with a click and my hair falls flat as the wind ceases.
I scan the room and count more than two dozen possible surveillance points, then step out and look down the long row of empty showers and start walking. At the end I find a small pile of clothes inside a cubby. One small square filled among hundreds that are empty.
I take the clothes and walk over towards a flat piece of furniture that sits low to the ground. I’ve worn Tier’s shirts back on Earth, so I know it goes over my head. I fuss with the bodice, noticing that the missing fingers on my left hand are still missing (oh well, one can hope) and then the remaining digits automatically track to the SEAR wound that runs the length of my jaw on the left side. I drag a fingertip down the raised line of scar tissue and allow my mind to jerk back to the memory.
And then let it go.
It is what it is.
My attention returns to my girls, which need to be smashed down into the cups of the upper body garment. Tier’s shirt never had cups and they feel heavier than I remember, so it’s a struggle to get them to cooperate before sealing up the sides.
In the end it fits like it was tailored specifically for me.
The pants are made of the same black material as the top, synthetic, thick as light armor, and soft. They slip on easily up to my hips and it’s only then that I notice my SEAR dock under my belly button is completely covered by skin. I touch it and the dock opens, revealing the small blue wand within.
I admit, I have to hold back my revulsion.
“Do not remove the weapon, Junco.” The voice on the speaker is emotionless and direct.
I completely ignore it and slip the SEAR knife into my hand. My thumb flicks over the small imperfection near the tapered end and it comes to life with a buzz. Another smile graces my face. I flick it off and dock it, then look up and find what may be the closest surveillance point. “You went through all this just to kill me in the waiting room? I don’t think so. It’s mine and I’ll take it out whenever I want.”
I button my pants and move on to the socks and boots.
This time I’m stumped. My feet are no longer feet and I stare at them in awe. Or maybe confusion, I’m not quite sure. Four toes and they are extraordinarily long. All point forward, but the two outer toes seem to have a mind of their own and can point sideways and almost backwards, if I wiggle them enough. I get up and walk around a little, looking down as I try out the new digits. They move and adjust as I change my pace. The talons clack on the hard tile and I imagine what it would feel like to clutch things. I wrangle them back into the forward position and tug on the socks and boots.
When I’m finished a door opens and I walk through.
The space is empty except for a mirror long enough to allow hundreds of avians to gawk at their new bodies at the same time. I stand there, stunned at what I see. I flex my back muscles and the wings respond. One stretches out to its full length and then retracts and folds, cupping back over my shoulder. I squeeze the muscles a little and I feel them collapse completely against my back. It makes me look human for a moment and I grin back at my reflection.
My wings are not black. I get close to the mirror and try to see my back. They are a strange color – not white, not cream, not tan, not brown, not gray – a mottled mixture of all these hues. I squint at my eyes in the mirror, moving my head back and forth to get a clear look at them, expecting to see orange like Moju’s or green like Tier’s. But they haven’t changed at all and a grunt of disgust leaks out of my mouth.
“Well, that fucking sucks. Not only do I still have hazel eyes, but you fuckers gave me hazel wings too.” I look up, but get no answer. Then I whisper under my breath, “That is so fucked up.”
I’m done looking, satisfied with the novelty of my new body, but the next door does not open. I think of how I should act so that I don’t show weakness and decide on boredom. I lean my wings against the wall and then slide my back down until I’m sitting on the floor. I tilt my head back and close my eyes and my mother’s voice is in my head. Patience and inertia are not the same thing.
She’s right after all. So I wait. And think about where Tier is. Hell, where I am for that matter. Are we in the Band? I’m not really even sure where the Band is, but Tier talked about it before we left Earth a few times. And then my thoughts slip back to Earth – to Selia. Did she get the message out? To Slag – what did he do after we left? To Moju. My hearts aches for him and I let a little frown cross my face before I catch it.
This seems to be the magic signal that I am calm and ready to be rational, because the door opens and a man walks in.
He doesn’t look avian. For a moment I wonder if I ever left Earth. But I feel the weight of the wings and the lightness of the less-than-G gravity and let that go. It doesn’t matter where I am – I am no longer human.
He’s not a friendly looking man with his height and muscular bulk, not to mention the down-turned mouth and intense stare. His suit is black, tailored, and screaming money. His hair is fair and this too is different. So far all the avians I’ve ever met had black hair. Except me of course. My hair is still the same ugly auburn brown. His complexion is fair as well and his smile as he approaches me is forced.
I look up at him for a moment, then get to my feet and wait.
“I’m Lucan, Junco. Your new commander.” His voice is deep and calm. Almost soothing.
“You don’t look like a commander,” I say, raising my eyebrows at him. For one, he’s not that old. Maybe early thirties. And for two, he’s wearing a fucking suit. I don’t get it.
He gives me an indulgent smile, like I’m a toddler. “You’ve never seen an avian commander, so how would you know what one looks like?”
I watch his deep blue eyes as he talks, find the power there and make myself behave.
“You’re right. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander Lucan. Should I salute? Shake? You’ll have to forgive me, I am almost one hundred percent ignorant of your culture.”
Another indulgent smile as he extends his hand. “We can do it your way, if you like.”
I take his hand and shake it politely. “I would not like, actually. I would prefer to know how I am expected to act.”
He retracts his hand. “We’ll get to that in time. But for now I’d like to know how you came to be on my habitat when I gave a direct order to kill you two months ago.”
I smile. “Oh, that’s easy,” I say, still grinning up at him, “I was invited, of course.”
“Ah, yes, your invitation. Would you like to know where Tier is?”
“Not especially, no.”
His brow furrows at my answer and I tuck down a smile. I can play too, buddy. Let’s dance.
“Well, Junco, that surprises me. I think he would very much like to know where you are.”
My stomach churns, but I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so, Commander Lucan.”
“And why’s that, Junco?”
I shrug and turn my back to him and walk a few paces, testing out my wings and feeling my new talons move and be restrained inside my boot. God, no wonder Moju was barefoot. It’s kind of annoying.
“I’m nothing to him. He’s nothing to me. Why would we care what the other is doing?” I turn back and wait. Patience is not inertia, Junco. “He brought me back because I can be used and I came because, well – I’m sure you probably realize why staying on Earth wasn’t a real option for me.”
He smiles again. I don’t. My face will crack if I have to keep up this fake shit much longer. He turns sideways towards the door and waves his arm, signaling for me to pass through ahead of him.
I do and I am met by six avian guards with their plasma rifles pointed at my head. I listen to their footsteps and decide they are the same guys who just saw me naked and covered in goo not too long ago and shoot them a smile.
They keep their aim true and ignore me.
Lucan and I walk side by side down a long hallway wide enough to drive a few tanks through back on Earth. My gaze stays straight ahead and I do not gawk up or around, but instead listen to our footfalls echo as we travel. The guards match our pace and they surround me in a semi-circle, walking sideways to target me.
I look at Lucan’s face and he feels my gaze and directs his eyes down in expectation. “I think it’s possible you’ve misjudged me, Commander. I’m just one small girl. Do you really think you need six heavily armed men plus yourself to control the situation? If so, you will seriously inflate my ego.”
He sighs and I know the charade is over. “Junco, we know exactly who you are, what you do, and what you’re capable of – so you will excuse my enthusiasm for protection until we can all come together on the same page. I ordered you to keep that weapon of yours,” he hesitates as he points to my stomach and I squint up at him, “sheathed. Yet you insisted on removing it.”
“Commander Lucan, that weapon is biologically attached to me. Taking it out and giving it a quick check was like wiggling my new toes. A simple reflex to make sure everything is working.” I reach for it and the rifles emit an electric field so strong it pushes me backwards. “Cool it, guys. I’d be happy to hand it over if it makes you feel better.”
“Hands off, Junco. You will not use that weapon here, do you understand?” I don’t meet his gaze and I don’t agree to his terms, so he continues, “I would take it, but it cannot stay away from you for long, we tried while you were under. It was – not ideal.”
I shrug. “I lived without it for weeks on Earth.”
“This isn’t Earth.”
Yeah, I think I’m getting that, thanks. “Well, you know, I can’t help it the thing is attached to me. It wasn’t like anyone asked if I wanted a biological weapon grafted onto my body, ya know.”
He stops in the hallway and waves the men off a bit. Without the echo of boots the only sounds are the environmental units pumping out conditioned air. The guards step back but the rifles are still on alert. “Junco, I’m not playing games. This sweet-talking you gave Tier will not work on me. So save your breath.”
I laugh out loud this time, I can’t help it. He gives it a good shot, but he’s unsure what to make of me and it shows. “Commander, I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but it certainly wasn’t Tier if you think the reason I am alive and fucking up your habitat is because of my wily ways with men. Tier and I had no conversations about what he was and was not doing beyond a handful of words the very last time we talked.”
Lucan’s composure is back and his lip curls up slightly as he speaks. “Is that so? Well, Tier must be mistaken then, because he said something quite different.”
I don’t even miss a beat. “You’re a liar. He never said anything other than what I just stated because that was the truth. And if you know so much about me, then you know that death carries very little meaning at the moment. You can try and kill me if you want – I don’t give a shit. I have nothing to lose. You’re no different than the assholes I left back on Earth and if you really want to know what I’m doing on your habitat, you better ask yourself. We both know I’m here because you want me for something.”
I watch the guard behind Lucan raise his eyebrows at me and smile, then redirect my eyes back to Lucan’s face and wait for his reply.
He turns and continues to walk and I catch up and walk by his side. We travel in the echo of our footsteps once again and then he stops at a door, palms his hand over the biometrics and it slides open. He waves me in and I step through, but he stays where he is.
“Goodbye for now, Miss Coot.” And then the door closes.
I turn and find Layla gaping at me from the far side of the room. I look up and around and she smiles and waves the thought away. “No cameras allowed here, Junco. I’m so glad to see you!” She walks over to me and hugs me to her chest.
I return her hug and push her back. “What did they do to Tier?”
She winces at his name and shakes her head. Her mouth drops downward as she speaks.
“He’s fucked, Junco. On trial for treason.”
The room is a cross between a lab, a clinic, and a hotel. It screams Junco’s new vivarium. I pull a chair from the table and sit across from Layla as she waits patiently for me to settle. The chairs are strange, with only a thin backrest, but as soon as I lean back I understand why. It supports my spine without crimping or impinging on my new wings. I slouch a bit, even though the straight back makes it difficult, and feel very tired and sad. Since Tier’s warning instructed me to trust no one, I have to presume that Layla will deliver reports on my moods and behavior and force a neutral expression as I wait for her to give me some sort of explanation.
She smiles and then lets out a long breath. “When we discussed everything that could happen when we brought you back, Junco, treason never even entered the realm of possibilities. But” – she hesitates – “here we are.”
“What were the possibilities?” I ask as I avert my eyes and study the furniture. In the living area there is a bed, a desk, a large screen on the wall, and a bedside table. I see a door that might lead to a bathroom. That takes up about a quarter of the space.
About half is devoted to medical and lab equipment – centrifuges of various shapes and sizes, some molecular cloning machines, glassware of course, a bench lined with bottles of chemicals, buffers, pipettes, books, a plate reader, cell sorter, a few medium sized coolers, a hood for tissue culture, four microscopes, a gleaming stainless steel minus-80 freezer for samples, and lots of other stuff that looks like it belongs in a research facility. Let’s just call it a well-stocked, scratch that, a well-funded lab.
The other corner has a counter that holds canisters filled with paper goods, 2x2 gauze, cotton-tipped applicators, shit like that. There is also a built-in sink and glass front cupboards that hold enough drugs to treat a small town back in the RR.
“Demotion, mostly. We thought maybe if we were really fucked they’d kick us out of the Aves. We spent quite a few hours talking about what we’d do if they did.”
My brow furrows and I try and put it together. “Are you and Tier – together?”
Her smile is crooked. “No, Junco. I’m on his team, his scientist. We’ve been together, hell, since he came out of Fledge really. Not counting that stint I did on Lacerion for post-training in moleculars.”
“Sorry, I feel a little lost here, ya know. I have no idea who he is, only that I agreed to let him bring me here. We never discussed anything that might happen afterward, so–”
“Well, we figured you’d be like a bonus – one of the Seven that we thought was lost but wasn’t. We were pretty sure it was gonna work fine, Junco. It’s not like we were just yanking ya on that end. And it did, right? Look at ya! So pretty.”
Her sudden pickup of Tier’s speech patterns makes me swallow the sadness once again. “I don’t like the color, to be honest.”
“Really?”
She looks a little hurt and I wonder if she made me this way on purpose, but it’s too late now and I just shrug. “I like the black wings. These,” I say, peeking back at their almost yellow paleness, “feel like a target.”
“Oh, well. Sorry. I think they’re beautiful. And I bet everyone else does too. You’ll see.
Anyway, the whole purpose of being on Earth was to get the Seven and bring them back. We knew you were the Seventh,” her fingers do little air quotes, “and the Seventh Sibling is not well-liked around here in theory. But we discussed this for days before we came to the decision, Junco. I’m pure because someone made me that way. Ditto for everyone else. So, if someone altered you as you grew up, and they did – we know this – then how can you not be pure? Just because your alterations took place after birth, why should that make any difference?”
I look away at her question because I don’t want to think about anything right now, least of all my avian biological status. “So, what went wrong?”
“After we put you under we let the others come in, but you were undergoing the morph, so you had special protected status. It’s a vulnerable position, right? Being unconscious for weeks on end, helpless and under the control of your medical staff. They couldn’t do anything to you then. They just had to wait it out.”
I don’t want to ask the question, in case someone is listening or Layla is taking notes on my questions, but I do anyway. “And Tier?”
She shrugs. “He’s ranking officer, so they couldn’t do anything to him either, unless they wanted to mutiny, which they didn’t. But, well, everyone has a boss. And Lucan wasn’t happy when we arrived in the Band. They arrested Tier immediately.”
“The charges,” I ask, still avoiding her eyes, “are treason?”
She nods and gives me a half-hearted crooked smile when I finally look over at her.
“Because he didn’t kill me.”
This time she doesn’t acknowledge me, just releases a deep breath.
“Anything else? Charges, I mean?”
“Something to do with breaking a treaty. And the old stuff, the unauthorized murder charges. He was on – like a probation – and they revoked it for this last charge.”
I nod and get up and walk across the room to the bed. “This for me?”
She nods but doesn’t rise.
“And all this?” I say, pointing to the medical equipment.
“Tests. Not today though, it’s late and I’m sure you’re still tired. And,” she hesitates, “maybe it will help to know that these feelings you’re having right now, the sadness and lethargy? It’s normal, Junco. We all get this way after morph. It’s an endocrine reaction, the changes really fuck you up. So whatever you’re feeling right now, just give it a few days, OK?”
I sit on the bed and start unlacing my boots.
“We’ll have to have guards in here with you at all times, just for a little while, though.”
I shake my head without looking up and write her off for good now.
“Ashur is taking the night shifts and Braun is taking days.”
I remove the boots and the socks and finger the blister that has formed on my right foot after the short walk from the showers and I wonder for the first time how I will hold up in this new environment.
Layla stands up and walks towards the door, then turns back. “It’ll be better tomorrow. We’ll do the tests and then you can leave here. You’ll see.”
I lie down on the bed and turn my back to her.
“See you tomorrow. Ashur’s outside, you remember him? From the battle at your house?”
I ignore her.
“OK, well, I’ll send him in on my way out.”
“Layla?” I ask without turning to look at her.
“Yes, Junco?”
“Why aren’t you on trial for treason?”
“I’m his subordinate, Junco. He’s my captain. I could no more deny his order to save you than anyone else on the ship.”
I close my eyes and never even hear the other avian enter because I simply shut down and go looking for the dock.
But it’s gone.
So I settle for nightmares. They come easy. History repeating.
I toss and turn in the bed as my nose wrinkles with a familiar but out-of-place smell. It fades and my dream takes me to my bedroom where I lie on the bed in my shorts and puff on a cigar, happy with who I am.
Wait.
That wasn’t a dream, that was real.
Where am I?
“Junco?”
The strange voice triggers my reflexes. The SEAR comes out from under my shirt and I’m standing on the bed in attack mode before I can even process all my actions.
The large avian is bent down in a defensive stance, his plasma weapon pointing up at my head. “Junco! Put it down, now!”
“Fuck!” I let out a long sigh and retract the SEAR and slip it back into the dock. “What the fuck?”
He watches me step off the bed and stand on the other side of the room, but he does not lower his weapon.
“Ashur?”
He nods.
“Put your fucking weapon away or we’re gonna tangle.”
“You cannot take that knife out, Junco. Ever. If you do, you’re going to get hurt.”
I shake my head at him. “It’s docked. What more do you want? Put your weapon down, Ashur – or we will fight.”
He stands upright and slides his weapon in the holster that hangs at his hip. My eyes trace the familiar smell that woke me and I lean to look past Ashur. A smoldering cigar is sitting in an ashtray on the table. “You did that on purpose.”
He gives me a crooked smile. “I know you like them. And I was bored. Can you think of a better way to be woken up?”
I just stand there, pissed. “Well, yeah, actually. There are about a thousand better ways of being woken up than having some strange guy in my room smoking a cigar that reminds me of home. Thanks.”
Ashur walks over to me and takes my arm and leads me over to the table where he was sitting before I went commando on him. He points to the chair and slides a cigar over. “Here, have one. Relax a little, shit. You’re so jumpy.”
I don’t have it in me to protest and the little gray box that holds the cigar is calling my name. I slide it out, press it to the striker, and puff. “Thanks.”
He takes his seat and I do the same, then we both puff in silence as we watch the screen on the far wall. The sound is off, but it’s the news so the captions at the bottom of the feed tell all you need to know. I guess some things never change, no matter what world you’re on.
“What time is it?”
“2 AM Standard, why? Got plans?” His lips attempt to smile around his stogie.
“What time did I fall asleep?” I say as my attention goes back to the screen.
“Eight or so.”
I nod. “Oh.”
“Done sleeping then?”
I look back at him. He could be Tier’s brother, that’s how similar they are. “Probably.”
“Want some breakfast?”
“No.” Just the thought of food makes me want to heave.
He takes his cigar out of his mouth. “What do you mean, no? You haven’t eaten in almost two months.”
“Obviously that’s not true or I would be dead. I’m definitely not hungry.”
He’s still holding his cigar in his hand, not puffing. “I’ve already been warned about your eating habits, Junco. I’m in charge of making you eat breakfast, so we’re having some.”
I screw up my face at him. “I can’t think of a single person who would even know what my eating habits are, Ashur. So spare me.”
“Both Layla and Tier mentioned your lack of enthusiasm for food.”
I snort out a laugh. “And how they hell would they know?”
“They said you were severely undernourished when we took you, that’s how.”
“Which means nothing. You guys got to see the tail end of what a very bad week does to my appetite, so what? I wouldn’t base anything off what I did that week, let alone assume I have an eating disorder.”
“Good, then we’ll have eggs for breakfast.”
“Knock yourself out, Ashur.” Just stop fucking talking to me, I don’t add.
He gives me a look of superiority, like he won the argument or something, then pushes back his chair and exits the room through the door I thought was the bathroom last night.
I stub out the cigar and go back to bed watching the newscreen. It’s all in English but it shows a lot of stuff that makes no sense. Winged people fighting each other. Killing each other actually, in what looks to be an advertisement for an upcoming arena fight of some kind. Some more winged people having a party. Some people with no wings in what looks to be a government session. Some personal interviews. I just sit there in disbelief. I didn’t watch the screens much at home, only when on the road, but it’s all a little too familiar. I traveled hundreds of thousands of miles, millions maybe, and I’m on a totally different planet, habitat, whatever, and still the news is filled with the same shit. Violence, parties, and politics. The irony isn’t lost.
Ashur returns a few minutes later with eggs and toast and beckons me to the table. At least it’s real food and not that shit Tier tried to feed me in the cave. It doesn’t look horrible, but my head shakes out a no as he slides the plate in front of me. I keep the disgusted look as I meet his eyes. “If you make me eat that I’ll throw up.”
He shrugs and takes his seat, shoving food in his mouth before he even settles. “It’s good, real eggs and everything. Tier said you only eat fresh food, so lucky us, right?” He shoots me a smile.
“Tier would have no idea, Ashur. He saw me eat a total of three meals.”
“He’s the resident Junco expert, like it or not, what he says goes. Might as well enjoy the food, Fledge food is like military field rations.”
I force myself to eat three bites and push the plate away.
“Ya know, you don’t have to make everything so difficult, Junco. You can have it made here, if you want.”
“And what would I have to do in order to have it made?”
“Follow the program,” he meets my gaze, “and just do what you’re told for once.”
“For once? You’re an asshole.” I let out a deep sigh, get up, and go flop down on the bed and bury my face in the pillows. “I’m sorry I came here.”
I hear him set his fork down and push back from the table and look up to see what he’s doing. His head is in his hands. A gesture that reminds me of Tier when he was thinking out at the cabin, right before he told me that he killed my father.
“Ya know something, Junco, we’re probably all sorry you came here. Except one person, maybe. And that’s Tier. So for fuck’s sake, try and do what you’re told for his benefit. The guy’s sitting in prison for saving you and” – he lifts his head and stares at me with bloodshot eyes – “and if I had it my way, Junco, I would have killed you myself in order to save him from that.”
He stands up and walks to the door. “If you need something, I’ll be outside until Layla comes.”
Good job, Junco. Making friends already.
ClutchBook One I Am Just JuncoBy J.A. HussBLURB
In 2152 the avian race is on Earth looking for something stolen from them decades ago – their genetics. At the center of the search lies the Rural Republic; a small backwards farming country with high hopes of military domination and a penchant for illegal bioengineering.
19 year old Junco Coot is the daughter of the Rural Republic’s ranking commander. She’s the most foul-mouthed, wildly unpredictable and ruthless sniper the Rural Republic has ever trained. But when her father’s death sparks a trip into forbidden places, she triggers events that will change everything she knows to be true.
As an elite avian military officer, Tier’s mission is to destroy the bioengineering projects, kill Commander Coot’s daughter, and return home immediately. There’s just one problem. Junco isn’t who she claims to be.
With no one to trust, not even herself, Junco must confront the secrets of her past and accept her place in the future, or risk losing herself completely.
Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/Iz0PWDGoTJY
About the Author:
J. A. Huss never took a creative writing class in her life. Some would say it shows. Others might cut her some slack. She did however, get educated and graduated from Colorado State University with a B.S. in Equine Science. She had grand dreams of getting a Ph.D. but while she loves science, she hated academia and settled for a M.S. in Forensic Toxicology from the University of Florida.
She went on to write science curriculum for homeschoolers and now runs a successful home business that creates and offers online science unit studies. When she’s not writing science curriculum or fiction, she works as a farm inspector, traveling the Eastern Plains of Colorado in variety of environmentally friendly vehicles that never have four-wheel drive, so when she gets stuck in the mud in said vehicles, she has to beg for assistance from anyone who will help her. She is not bitter about that at all.
She’s always packing heat and she is owned by two donkeys, five dogs, more chickens and ducks than she can count, and of course, the real filthy animals, her kids. The I Am Just Junco series was born after falling in love with the ugliest part of Colorado and the Rural Republic is based on the area of the state she currently resides in, minus the mutants, of course.
Website: http://www.iamjustjunco.com/
Blog: http://jahuss.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Junco-Coot/258034560979553
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6446815.J_A_Huss
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