K.C. Sprayberry's Blog, page 176

Cover Reveal: Uncovering You Part One: The Contract

Title - Uncovering You
Author: Scarlett EdwardsGenre - Dark RomanceRelease Date - March 27th, 2014Cover Reveal - February 18th, 2014Series - first book in series.  Second will be out April 20th, 2014.
Synopsis-When I wake up in a dark, unfamiliar room, I have no idea what's waiting for me in the shadows. My imagination conjures up demons of the worst kind.
Reality is much worse:
A collar with no leash. A prison with no walls. And a life stripped of meaning.
I am presented with a vile contract and asked to sign. It outlines the terms of my servitude. The only information I have about my captor are the two small letters inked at the bottom:
J.S.
Armed with only my memories, I must do everything I can to avoid becoming ensnared in his twisted mind games. But in the end, it all comes down to one choice:
Resist and die.
Or submit, and sign my life away
GoodReads Link:http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20512700-uncovering-you

Excerpt:“Lilly.”Oh God. It’s him. There’s no mistaking that rich, masculine treble.What’s he doing down here?“M-Mr. Stonehart,” I stutter, turning. I curse my inability to hide my surprise. He totally caught me off-guard. I have to look up to meet his eyes. Then up some more.The face that I find is so striking it should belong to a Greek god.He’s younger than I expected. Late thirties, maybe early forties.That means he started his company when he was younger than me!Dark scruff lines his angular cheeks. His jet-black hair is styled in long, natural waves. My fingers itch to run through it.Totally inappropriate.He has a prominent nose that might be too big on a less imposing man, but on him, it’s perfect.In short, he’s a package of the purest masculinity I’ve ever seen.And then there are his eyes. Oh my God. His eyes. They pierce into me like honing missiles. They are the deepest black I have ever seen. They would be frightening if they weren’t so beautiful. When the light reflects a certain way, you catch a glimpse of the purple underneath.They are like midnight sapphires. His eyes reveal a cunning intellect. Those eyes do not miss a thing.Add all that to his towering height, his wide shoulders, his confident-yet-at-ease posture… and Stonehart cuts an intimidating figure.My gaze darts to his left hand before I can stop it. No ring. He’s unmarried.He looks down at me, expectantly. His eyes narrow ever so slightly, and I feel like I’m being dissected, measured up, and tucked away in some small corner of his brain. I imagine this is what a gemstone feels like under the magnifying class of the most critical appraiser.Stonehart clears his throat. I come to with a start, realizing I haven’t said anything in ages. I open my mouth, but the capacity for speech seems like a foreign concept to my brain. “I—”Somebody bumps into me from behind. I stagger forward. I’m not used to these shoes, so my heel steps the wrong way. My ankle twists under me, and I start to fall.I don’t fall far. The hand still on my elbow tightens, and Stonehart pulls me into him.I plaster myself onto the solid steel wall the man has for a body. I catch a scent of his cologne. It’s a deep, musky smell with a hint of charred spruce that is all male. It scrambles my thoughts even more.“Sorry!” a rushed voice calls out. From the corner of my eye, I see the postman giving a hurried, apologetic wave.Although the sequence lasts less than a second, it feels like an eternity. Pressed up against him like that, I don’t want to move. I know that I couldn’t have made a worse first impression.Stonehart eases me off him with a firm yet gentle grip. Our eyes meet. I flush the most vibrant red. His fingers graze my forehead as he brushes a lock of hair out of my face.Any tenderness I may have imagined vanishes when Stonehart takes out his cell. He long dials a key and growls an order. “Steven. See the delivery boy leaving right now? Have his building pass revoked.”I gape. Stonehart keeps speaking. “Wait. I thought of one better. Bar his company from accessing the building.” There’s a pause. “For how long? Indefinitely. FedEx can talk to me when they have an improved employee selection program in place.”The phone call gives me just enough time to compose myself. My heart’s still beating out of my chest. But nobody has to know that.I speak without thinking. “You’re going to restrict the entire company from serving this building because of that?”Stonehart humors me with an answer. “A company’s employees are its most important asset. Their behavior reflects the organization as a whole. If FedEx decided that clown is good enough for them, it tells me they’re sloppy. I do not do business with sloppy organizations.”“What about the other tenants in the building?” I ask. “Won’t that piss them off?”When I hear myself and realize how improper my question is, my cheeks flame red again.Stonehart’s eyes darken, as if he cannot believe I asked that question. I open my mouth to apologize for my imprudence, hating the way my professional skills have evaporated into thin air. I’m cut off by a short, barked laugh.“Miss Ryder.” He sounds amused. “I believe that is the most direct and honest question anybody has dared ask me in weeks.” He takes my elbow again and leads me to the elevators. I have to take two quick steps to match one of his long strides.“Yes,” he continues. “They will be ‘pissed off.’ But the perk of owning a building—” he hits the elevator call button, “—is that you get to make executive decisions.” He gives me an unreadable glance as the doors open. “That is, at the risk of being questioned by inexperienced interns.”If that isn’t a loaded remark, I don’t know what is. I flush scarlet red for the third time since I’ve met him. I’ve never had a man throw me so off balance.The elevator is packed, for which I’m infinitely thankful. The trip up will give me some time to properlycompose myself.Gratitude turns to panic when the crowd files out, meek as mice, when Stonehart steps in. None of the people waiting in the lobby follow us.The doors close. I’m alone in here with him. My heart’s beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.He catches me staring. “Impressed?” he asks.“They know you,” I manage.His dark eyes flash with amusement. “Astute.”Chapter OneOctober 2013. Date unknown.(Present day)
A faint hiss, like the sound of an angry cat, jars me from my sleep.I open my eyes to pure blackness. I blink, trying to get my bearings. A vague memory forms in the back of my mind, too far away to reach.Why can’t I see anything?My breath hitches. Panic rips through my body as the horrifying answer comes to me:I’m blind!I scramble onto hands and knees and desperately claw at the dark, searching for something, anything, for my senses to latch onto.A dim overhead light comes on.Relief swells inside.I plop back on my butt and close my eyes, taking deep breaths to dispel the rush of adrenaline released by my body. When my heart’s not beating quite so fast, I open my eyes again.The light’s gotten brighter. I look up at the source. It’s far above me, like a dull, miniature sun. It spreads a little sphere around me, maybe ten feet in diameter. Past that, everything is swallowed by darkness.An irksome memory keeps gnawing at me. But my head is too heavy to remember. I feel… strange. Kind of like I’m hung over, but without the telltale pounding between my ears.Cautiously, I try to stand. My limbs are slow to react. They feel heavy, too, like they’ve been dipped in wet clay. I steady myself. Only when I’m satisfied that my knees won’t give out, do I strain my ears for that hissing sound again.It’s coming from somewhere behind me. I turn back—and nearly smash my head on a gleaming white pillar.What the hell?The sound is forgotten as I reach out and brush tentative fingers against the pillar’s surface. It’s cool to the touch. Smooth, too. I put my other hand on it. If I had to guess, I’d say it was made of marble. But what is a lone, white marble pillar doing in the middle of this room?The memory is like a gong going off inside my head. But trying to reach it is like grasping at a smooth, slippery stone at the bottom of an aquarium. Just when I think I have it, it slips through my fingers and falls even farther out of reach.I walk a slow, measured circle around the pillar. If I tried wrapping my arms around it, I doubt if I could even span half the circumference. Something far in the back of my mind tells me I should be alarmed. I look behind me and frown. By what? A dark room?No, you idiot. By the reason you’re here!My eyes widen. The reason I’m here? I don’t… I don’t remember.I wince and bring one hand to my temple. Why am I having so much trouble remembering?I gasp as a second gruesome thought hits me. Did I lose my memory? Do I have… amnesia?I sink down with my back to the pillar. Desperation starts to take over. I hold my head between my knees and close my eyes to focus.My name is Lilly Ryder. I was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on May 17th, 1990.My eyes pop open. Joyous tears form in the corners. I do remember! I take a deep breath and try to keep going.I was raised by my mom. I do not know my dad…Suddenly, all my childhood memories come streaming back. Moving around as a kid. Never staying in one place longer than six months. All the cities I’ve lived in. All the apartments my mom and I called home. Even the revolving door of her boyfriends. There was Dave, and Matthew. Tom, and Steve. There was…I shake my head to stop myself. I don’t doubt my memory anymore. But that still does not explain why I have absolutely no recollection of this place, or how I got here.I push myself back up. The spotlight above me has gotten progressively brighter. The little enclosure of light doesn’t feel quite so tight anymore. I trail my eyes up the length of the pillar. I can’t see where it ends because of the light. But I can tell it’s tall, at least twenty, maybe twenty-five feet…There’s also something about its surface that calls out to me. My hands itch to run over the smooth stone. A giggle bubbles up as I picture myself stroking it. The column is quite phallic.I waver at the unfamiliar thought and have to catch my balance against the beam.Focus, Lilly! I chide myself.I have no idea where that thought came from. I have never been overtly sexual.Nothing feels right. The fog that’s heavy on my mind is starting to lift, but not yet enough for me to understand—or remember—where the hell I am. This place is unfamiliar. I know that much. But right now, I feel almost like a surgery patient whose anesthetic kinked out: fully awake mentally, but completely impaired physically.I go back to my memories. I can remember high school. I remember college. That’s where I spent the last three years of my life, isn’t it? Yes. Yes, it is.“Hello?” I call out. My voice echoes into the surrounding gloom. “Is anybody there?”I wait for an answer. All I get is the hollow repetition of my own voice.…anybody there, there, there…I spent the last three years in college… but that’s not where I think I am right now. No. I shake my head. I knowthat’s not where I am. My memories are fuzzier the closer I bring them to today. Time feels… skewed. Freshman year’s easy to remember. So is sophomore, and most of junior… but things get weird toward the end.I… finished junior year, didn’t I? Yes. Yes, I did. And then…And then I took an internship in distant California for the summer, I remember with another gasp.Suddenly, my mind is crystal clear. That pressing memory hurtles into view. It’s from yesterday. The last thing I recall, I was alone in a booth at an upscale restaurant. The waiter brought me a glass of wine. I took a few sips, contemplating my future….Oh, God! Fear wraps a stranglehold around my neck.The restaurant. The wine.I’ve been drugged!I can’t breathe. A suppressing tightness constricts my throat. I feel dizzy, and terrified, and most of all… ashamed.Holy shit, Lilly, way to look out for yourself! My semi-mad inner dialogue pans with a generous dollop of sarcasm.I’ve always known about the dangers of sick men preying on unsuspecting girls. I just never thought I’d fall victim to it.I’ve been on my own since I turned eighteen, after the final falling out with my mother. I’ve always been proud of how well I managed. Even the shabby holes I’ve lived in while saving up college tuition were an improvement over living with her and all her low-life boyfriends. At least there, I had autonomy.I’ve dealt with landlords selling crack on the side and the junkies they attract. Always, I’ve been known as independent, and strong—maybe offputtingly so. But, those were the character traits I had to develop to have any chance of getting ahead.And all that lead to what? To this? To letting my guard down for one night and ending up… here?Wherever “here” is, I think to myself.The shock of the revelation has subsided a bit. I push off from the pillar. I can figure this out. I take a deep breath and look at my hands and feet. I am not bound. I pick at my clothes. They are the same ones I wore last night.Do you know what might be lurking in the darkness?I shove the meddlesome voice down. I don’t need more worries. Not now.Carefully, I place one foot in front of the other and edge to the outer reaches of the light. The strange hissing noise has gone away. I don’t know when that happened. Maybe it was in my head the entire time.I strain my eyes, trying to pierce the surrounding darkness. It’s impossible. I reach out with one hand and find nothing but air. This far from the pillar, I can barely see my outstretched hand.“Hello?” I try again. “Who’s there?”There’s no answer.What kind of madman would do something like this? I wonder. What is hidden in the shadows?Without warning, my imagination starts to run wild. Torture devices? Bondage equipment? Something… worse?Snap out of it! I tell myself firmly.I refuse to give in to despair, even if my entire self-preservation mechanism is on high alert. Despair is what whoever brought me here wants me to feel.I will not succumb to that.I look down at the floor. It is made of some expensive stone. I kneel down and brush my hand over the large, square tiles. They feel solid. Sturdy. They don’t belong in a dingy basement or a dirty warehouse.Somehow, that thought strengthens me. Things aren’t quite as bad as they could be.I stand up and peer into the black. I glance back at the safety of my pillar. If I venture past the light, I can always find my way back.Go slow, I warn myself. Who knows what might be waiting for me out there?I’ve seen the horror movies. Just because I don’t get the dungeon vibes here does not mean I’m not in one.Haltingly, my foot reaches past the edge.A thousand bright lights flood the room. I gasp and shy back, shielding my eyes on instinct.After a few seconds, I lower my arm, blinking through the sharp pain that shoots through my head. I can almost groan. Light sensitivity, too?Then I see the room.Holy shit.It’s huge. Massive. It must be at least five thousand square feet of pristine, flat space. I’m smack dab in the middle of it all.The lights come from embedded ceiling lamps high overhead. Three of the walls, far away from me, are decorated with black and white abstract paintings created in bold brush strokes. The fourth wall is shielded by a heavy red curtain. The entire floor is made of rich, creamy white tiles reminiscent of steamed milk.The ceiling is so high above me I almost feel like I’m in a cathedral. It’s made of exquisite dark oak beams.But this is no church.I do a slow turn. Something about this is all wrong.So wrong.Why am I here? What is behind the curtain? Other than the massive pillar and the paintings, there is nothing in the room.If I’m being kept prisoner, why am I unbound? Why waste so much space on me?I cup my hands around my mouth and yell.“HEY! Anybody? Where am I?”As before, I’m greeted with silence.I take one more careful look around. If I got in, there must be a way out.My eyes dart to the curtain.Behind there.I start toward it, my bare feet making determined slaps against the cold floor. I’ve not even gone ten paces toward it when I feel a small tug on my ankle.I stop and look down. I discover a thread, so thin it’s almost translucent, tied loosely around my foot. The other end is attached to the base of the pillar.I bend down and finger it.What on earth is this?The thread looks like it should snap with the smallest amount of force. I wrap my hands around it and tug.It doesn’t give.I frown, and apply a little more effort.This time, it breaks in a clean cut.I shake my head as I straighten.Strange.I half-expected something to happen when I did that. Alarms to blare, the lights to go off, something.Nothing.That’s when I notice a small white envelope leaning against the pillar. It’s right where the thread connects. In fact, it blends so well with the marble that I’m sure I would have missed it were it not for the string.Exploration forgotten for now, I pick up the envelope. Maybe it will give some clue about what the fuck is going on.It’s made of heavy paper. A wax stamp seals it, imprinted with a two-faced drama mask that I would find unnerving no matter where I saw it.The only time I saw a wax-sealed envelope was when my ex got tapped by the Spade and Grave at Yale. I can understand the need for antiquity in New Haven. It makes no sense here.My finger slips under the flap. I carefully ease it open. A foreboding sense of doom swirls around me as I pull the folded letter out.I stare at it for a long minute. This is all so surreal. It feels like being caught in a bad dream. Once, I play myself right into my captor’s hands.My natural inclination to resist, to fight back, tells me to tear the paper up without another glance. But that would be madness. The only clue I have to my whereabouts might be contained inside.My thirst for information gets the better of me. I sit on the floor, cross my legs, and slowly unfold the paper.It’s handwritten in swift, flowing blue ink. The rows of words make perfect strides across the page. Precision is the first word that comes to mind to describe the owner of the handwriting.I set the sheet on the floor in front of me, lean forward and begin to read:
Two items require your immediate attention. 1.   You may spuriously assume you are being held here against your will. Nothing could be farther from the truth. You are a guest. As a guest, you retain full ability to leave my home at any time. The door behind the drapes shall remain open for the duration of your stay. There are no physical barriers to speak of—though I would advise you to read to the end of this letter before making decisions based on a flawed understanding of your situation. 2.   You may have already noted the new adornment around your neck. If so, well done! I applaud—
Adornment? I stop reading. What adornment?I bring my hands to my neck. I feel the unfamiliar shape against my skin. Why hadn’t I noticed it before?I scamper closer to the marble pillar to try to make out my reflection. I can’t see much, but I can make out the “adornment”. There’s a black collar around my throat. I touch it with one hand.It’s smooth and flat. It’s made of some kind of matted plastic, like the edges of a computer screen. It’s not tight or uncomfortable.It frightens me. If it warranted a place in the letter, there must be something to it. I need to get it off.My fingers dart around the edges, seeking the clasp that opens it.I don’t find one.The collar is smooth inside and out. It feels like a single piece of plastic. I trail one finger around the rim on the inside, and, finding no discrepancies, do the same on the outside. Again, I feel nothing.There’s no crack, no edge, nothing to indicate how it was put around my neck.I jam all my fingers between my skin and the plastic and pull with all my might. The collar flexes ever-so-slightly but doesn’t give.Dammit! I cry out and try again.I pull with all the strength God gave me. It’s not enough. I try again, and again, and again.Nothing.I realize I’m panting at this point. The exertion has me almost hyperventilating.I drop my hands. It’s just a stupid, harmless little piece of plastic. Why do I want it off so much?Because the idea of having anything foreign touch your skin is repulsive.The voice is right, as always. But what can I do? The collar is bound to be part of the mind game in which I’m an unwitting participant. Reacting the way I just did is probably exactly what my captor wants. He—and I am certain it’s a “he” now, from the wording of the letter—wants me to feel terrified.I will not give him the pleasure. I return to the letter and continue to read:…applaud your perspicacity! You should know, however, that it is not an ordinary collar. Contained inside is a small positioning chip and two electrodes. They become activated the moment you stray outside your designated safe zone.The string around your foot offers a conservative estimation of the distance you may roam past the marble column. Stay close, and you will remain untroubled. I am told that the electric shock the collar provides, while not lethal, can be quite unpleasant.
Holy fuck!My spine goes absolutely straight and I forget to breathe. Now the collar has meaning. It feels like a live serpent wrapped around my neck.My eyes are wide as I look down to my foot. The piece of string is still there, but it’s not connected to the one linked to the pillar.I’d ripped it like a moron.How far do I dare go? I’ll have to retie the string—unless I find a way to get the collar off my neck, first.Another thought occurs to me:Maybe this is a bluff? Does the collar really have an electrode in it? It’s so thin. Where would it draw power from?I stand up. Assuming the collar is rigged, and the pillar is the center point… but that’s just what he wants me to believe, isn’t it? The letter claims there’s a door behind the drapes. It could be my path to freedom. I would have to be an idiot to stay here without testing the boundary myself.I can’t trust anything the letter says. But, I can’t give in to despair, either. My only choice is to contest everything that’s thrown at me. If this is supposed to be a battle of the wills, the guy chose the wrong girl to mess with.I pick up the remainder of the string and hold it in my fist. I square my shoulders to the long, drawn curtain. I hold my head high. My free hand itches to tug at the collar, but I keep it still. If my captor is watching me—which I’m sure he is, because I’m positive there are cameras hidden all around me—I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing me hesitate.I take a deep breath and start toward the curtained wall. My strides are strong and purposeful. I will not waver. I will not turn back. Fear of a little shock will not keep me from testing the true limits of this prison.The string goes taut, and I stop.So far, so good.It’s the next few steps that will determine everything.I glance at the floor to mark my position. So, he expects to keep me in an invisible cage, does he? A cage of my own imagination?Yeah, tough luck.I drop the string and take one solid step forward.Nothing happens.I risk one more.Nothing happens.The corner of my lip twitches up in a hint of a smile. I called his bluff. But, I’m not home free yet. The veiled wall is another thirty-odd paces away from me.I take two more steps forward, and, when nothing happens, start to walk more briskly.My stroll is cut short by a sharp little zap beneath my left ear.I tense and wait for more.Well, color me surprised.It looks like the collar does have bite, after all. When a second jolt doesn’t come, I can’t stop my smile from becoming a satisfied smirk. I knew the collar couldn’t possible have enough juice to hurt me. Where would the battery go?Extremely pleased with myself, I venture onward, toward the curtain and its promise of freedom.The violent torrent of electricity blindsides me. One second I’m on my feet, the next I’m writhing on the floor.The current pours into me. I thrash about like a grounded fish. Fierce convulsions rock my body. And all I know is pain, pain, pain.I can feel the source of it, snug around my neck. I’m helpless to fight the onslaught. My head flails about on the ground, throwing hair into my face. A high-pitched squeal sounds in my ears and I desperately hope that pathetic sound is not me.My eyes roll up and all goes black. About the AuthorI’m Scarlett Edwards. I wrote my first book as a college sophomore. After six months of edits, it made its debut as Yours to Savor. 
That was at the start of 2013. I’ve written more books since then. You can find them all here. 
It’s funny how quickly life changes. I used to think I’d need a degree to get a “Real Job.” Then I wrote a few books, they got somewhat popular, and now I’m living the life as a full-time romance author. 
Thanks to all my readers for making my dreams come true! 
Stalker Linkswww.scarlettedwards.comhttps://www.facebook.com/Author.Scarlett.Edwardshttps://www.goodreads.com/ScarlettEdwards 
Giveaway Details
10 Uncovering You audiobooks20 Signed paperbacks of Uncovering you 50 ebook copies of Scarlett's books a Rafflecopter giveaway 
Cover Reveal organized by:  

Secret From The Flames - Relatives

In Secret From the Flames Ciara Tressa Lafferty not only has to put up with local lore concerning her long lost great aunt, she has the woman's name as her middle name. To makes matters worse, she looks exactly like her great aunt. All Ciara wants to do is blow the dirt of Landry, Georgia from her feet and go to college, but she's stuck in her hometown until graduation. To make matters worse, her boyfriend's grandfather won't let her ever forget her great aunt.


Did you ever have a relative like this? One you'd rather forget ever existed, but you're blamed for everything they did, just because you look like them? I'm betting you were never accused of masterminding a robbery spree, stealing a guy's car, and taking off for parts unknown. However, there are other things we find ourselves compared to when it comes to our relatives.

"Oh, you look so much like Aunt Sue. Did you know she went on to be the head of a very prosperous company in a time when women stayed home to take care of their families? Such a forward thinking woman Aunt Sue was." A deep sigh from your aged relative and then. "It's too bad you can't be more like Aunt Sue."


"Nobody ever let Uncle Tom hang around the children. He was funny. You know what I mean." A pointed look at the scruff on your face, the clothes you prefer that are just this side of disreputable. "You sure do look a whole lot like him. Uncle Tom never believed in a razor. He sure didn't dress like people expected. Maybe we should keep the children away from you."


There are many more examples of teens today resembling some long dead, successful or creepy, relative. All you can do is roll your eyes and hope you never end up like thatrelative. Ciara has a lot to disprove, yet she's not sure how to do it, and being possessed by the vengeful ghost of her long lost great aunt certainly doesn't help matters, especially when the ghost still has a heavy crush on the man who killed her.
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Find out more in Secret From The Flames, available on Amazon: http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00HQQEU8E
Blurb:Everyone pays for the mistakes of their family, but for Ciara Tressa Lafferty, that particular mistake happened almost sixty years ago, and nobody will forget it. She's constantly compared to her great aunt, and even worse, she looks like the woman. A senior in high school with a great future ahead of her, Ciara has no clue what this Halloween holds for her. That it's the anniversary her great aunt’s disappearance is just one more annoyance as she discovers her boyfriend's great grandfather refuses to let her move on with her own life. Then Ciara finds herself thrust in a nebulous existence within her own body when Tressa Anne Lafferty, her great aunt, possesses her. Ciara tries to break free, but Tressa refuses to release her  until Ciara discovers the secret hidden within the charred remains of McLaren House--a revelation which will rock the whole town.

Excerpt:The sense of time gathers speed. For so long, she dwelled in limbo, awaiting the moment when she would reunite with him. He brings conflicting emotions. Tressa loved him, yet he killed her. Logic dictates that she must hate him. Her death came about not because he loved her, but because he had to hide his acts, what he had done to ruin his family name.Duke Turkin was incapable of caring about anyone but himself. The only things he really loved were power and money."It's time, Duke," Tressa whispered into the humid, velvety night air. "Can you feel it? I'll make sure that you don't escape me this time. We're destined to spend eternity together."



KC Sprayberry started writing young, first as a diarist, and later through an interest in English and creative writing. Her first experience with publication came when she placed third in The Freedoms Foundation at Valley Forge contest while in the Air Force, but her dedication to writing came after she had her youngest child, now in his senior year of high school. Her family lives in Northwest Georgia where she spends her days creating stories about life in the south, and far beyond. More than a dozen of her short stories have appeared in several magazines. Five anthologies feature other short stories. She has three books that are Amazon best sellers: Softly Say Goodbye, Who Am I?, and Mama's Advice. Her other novels available are: Take Chances, The Ghost Catcher, Family Curse … Times Two, Secret From The Flames, Where U @, The Wrong One, Pony Dreams, and Grace.

The Honor Trilogy

Welcome to Out of Control Characters. Today, we're hosting J.P. Grider and her books, The Honor Trilogy. There is an excerpt, links to these books, and a chance for goodies with a Rafflecopter drawing!
 

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The Honor Trilogy: Books One, Two, and Three by J.P GriderGenre: YA/Fantasy/ParanormalPublisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing PlatformPublished: January 24th, 2014


WHAT WOULD YOU RISK TO SAVE THE ONES YOU LOVE?Honor Stevens feels the pain of the people around her. She thinks she is sick, that there must be something wrong with her, until she meets Ethan.Ethan comes to town to find the empath that he knows is there. He never counted on falling in love with her. Now that he has, he regrets telling her what she can do with her gifts. He knows that with her empathy, using her gifts could cause her death.Storm is Ethan's morally corrupt half-brother who has a dark past. But when he meets Honor, he can't help but fall in love with her as well.Together, they will fight to stop a group of evil empaths who are after Honor, as they also try to hide their gifts from the Government. But...Who will make the ultimate sacrifice to save Honor?


 Goodreads Website TwitterAbout the Author: J.P. Grider (1966 – ) born in Paterson, New Jersey as Julianne Pellegrino, was raised in Haledon, New Jersey, the oldest of six siblings. Her love of writing started early in her childhood, when she started writing poetry in-between homework assignments. As part of a school work program as a Journalism major in High School, J.P. Grider worked as a freelance reporter for a local newspaper, writing feature stories about exceptional high-school classmates. She studied Television Production and Film Writing at Seton Hall University in South Orange, New Jersey, where she graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Communications.Two of J.P. Grider’s novels have won awards in the Textnovel Writing Contest, with her first published book – Unplugged (A Portrait of a Rock Star) – reaching Semi-finalist position. Though Unplugged is not her first novel written, it is the first to be published. Her second novel, Maybe This Life, published in 2012, was actually her first attempt at writing a novel. After completing the whole manuscript, Grider decided to scrap the whole thing and rewrite Maybe This Life from scratch. In Grider’s opinion, the difference between the two was night and day.After writing in the Contemporary Romance genre, J.P. wanted to try her hand at the Young Adult Romance genre – the result, The Honor Trilogy.Always looking to challenge herself, J.P. Grider is now working on writing in the New Adult Romance genre with a novel called Calling California which should release in the Fall of 2014. 

Goodreads Amazon Barnes & Noble Book 1A Touch of Honor (The Honor Trilogy #1)Genre: YA/Fantasy/ParanormalPublisher: Fated Hearts PublishingPublished: March 13th, 2013 Honor hurts…all the time. The doctors say she’s fine – it’s all in her head. But Honor feels pain. What she doesn’t know is…it’s not her pain– it’s everyone else’s.Seventeen year-old Honor Stevens is not an ordinary teenager. Sure, she looks like one on the outside…but on the inside, there’s a whole world of pain going on. Honor is an empath. That means she can feel other people’s pain – like that of the girl who is about to be raped in the woods, or the girl who is dying of cancer, or her mom…who is suffering a heart attack. What she doesn’t know is what Ethan Sutherland comes to town to tell her – she can save these people. But at what cost? For every life Honor saves, she knocks years off her own.When Ethan comes looking for her, he isn’t counting on falling in love. Now that he has, he wishes he hadn’t told her about her abilities. Though he tries his best to talk her out of saving every soul, Ethan loses the battle – Honor’s too nice for her own good.Then there’s the matter of Ethan’s estranged, morally corrupt half-brother, Storm – he loves Honor too. And because Honor is intrinsically empathic, she’s aware of Storm’s softer side and begins falling for him as well.When the two brothers are forced to work together against a group of evil empaths who are after Honor, they need to put their differences aside and focus on saving the one girl they both love.A Touch of Honor is a paranormal love story of a different kind. In a world gone mad with vampires and werewolves, A Touch of Honor tugs at the heartstrings with a girl out to heal the world…one person at a time. Review:
 Honor Stevens, a reclusive teen who has suffered severe pain all her life is now in the throes of her worst attack ever, in her Algebra class of all places. Then in strides Ethan Sutherland, and she has something to distract her, or perhaps I should say someone. Hot Ethan has the same blonde hair, pale skin, and violet eyes that she has. He seems to know what she's always felt, how her pain isn't due to anxiety, and even better he likes her.
J.P. Grider opens the Honor Trilogy with the powerful A Touch of Honor. Grider slams the reader right into the heart of what appears to be a monumental problem, and then eases the reader into the reason Honor doesn't look anything like her parents. The male lead, Ethan, is almost a typical moody bad boy with a big heart – almost. It turns out Ethan has come to Honor's hometown to prepare her for a person she must face, but first he has to make her understand that she can't use her power – empathy.
This young adult paranormal teen romance draws the reader into the trials and tribulations of possessing empathy by an untrained girl. How her good heart won't let her back away from helping, no matter how much it hurts her. The romance however isn't developed well, with a love, hate, love, hate, don't know how they feel back and forth that tends to be confusing.
All in all, this book is a good, light read, and I'm definitely interested in finishing the trilogy I do recommend A Touch of Honor for teen girls looking for a different type of paranormal story.  

 Goodreads Amazon Barnes & NobleBook 2A Man of Honor (The Honor Trilogy #2)Genres: YA/Fantasy/Paranormal Publisher: Fated Hearts PublishingPublished: September 5th, 2013 
The second book in The Honor Trilogy finds Storm contending with his feelings for his brother’s girlfriend, while formulating a plan to finish off the evil empath out for Honor’s blood, once and for all.Storm Sutherland is still trying to ignore the fact that he’s fallen for Honor Stevens. And now that she’s gone and brought him back to life, it’s even more difficult to get her out of his mind. With Ethan and Honor still going strong, Storm battles between his impulses to win her heart, regardless of his brother’s feelings, or walk away, leaving the only girl who’d ever breathed life into him.But before he walks away, he must find a way to stop the man who is out for Honor’s blood, the result of a two-hundred year old vengeance against her grandfather that Honor must pay.Will Storm come up with a plan to end this war before she pays the price? 
Review:
Introduced in A Touch of Honor, the reader now gets into the head of Storm Sutherland, Ethan's half-brother. Storm is the true bad boy, the uncaring fool who just can't seem to do right, until Honor revives him. He now struggles with losing his empathic powers, but still knowing how much Honor cares for him, and he for her. But she's Ethan's girlfriend. Or is she?
Grider's second novel in The Honor Trilogy comes out swinging and never slows down. Storm is a great character, the guy you loved to hate in high school, the indifferent scofflaw who really does have a tender heart. This time the story is more about the past of empaths, rather than the now, where the Sutherland men and Honor have to fight a battle for survival. But Honor terrifies Storm. She's too goodhearted. She'll never back away from healing someone else's injuries or illnesses. She doesn't seem to care that she might kill herself healing too many people.
Woven throughout Storm's gruff exterior, and his soft interior, is his battle to stand aside, as he believes Honor loves his half-brother. This struck me as strange, not at all like a teen, yet Storm has his reasons and he eventually comes off as believable.
Teen girls will love the bad boy Storm, far more than the moody Ethan. I recommend this book as a lighthearted romp for teens. 


Book 3A Heart of Honor (The Honor Trilogy #3)Genre: YA/Fantasy/Paranormal Publisher: Fated Hearts Publishing
Published: December 25th, 2013 
Chapter Six Excerpt from A Man of HonorHonor’s skin is so pale that I swear I can see the violet from her eyes breaking through beneath her fragile eyelids. Her breath is shallow, and her sleep appears restless. If I were a normal empath, I’d touch her and make it all better. But since I’m a defective one, I’d end up killing her. I wonder why Ethan doesn’t just make her better. He’s certainly capable. Now my blood is starting boil. Honor can be cured with a single touch by her boyfriend, yet she’s here in the hospital, suffering from pain and exhaustion. My breathing picks up its pace, and I feel the need to break something. Preferably Ethan’s head. But since he’s not here at the moment, I stand up to leave and go outside before I find something to break. I never reach the door. Something rustles behind me.“Storm?”When I hear her call my name, I can’t help but close my eyes and smile. Turning around, I see her soft pink lips turned up at the corners.“Princess,” I whisper, choking out the words. It hurts so much to see her like this and know I can’t help.“It’s early,” she says, implying I probably shouldn’t be here.“Yeah.”I pull the chair up next to her bed, sit, and take her hand for just a second.“Shouldn’t you be like sleeping or something?” she asks, reaching out to touch my hand again after I’d pulled it away. But I set them on my lap.She frowns…but only briefly.“Nah,” I respond. “I don’t need sleep. Sleep’s for wusses.”Honor tries to laugh, but I can tell it takes more energy than she has.“Honor, sweetheart, why do you do this to yourself? Look what helping somebody else does to you.”She sighs, but says nothing.“You gotta learn to let their pain go. Please, angel. It kills me to see you like this.”After a slow blink, she opens her mouth. “She was hurting. She was depressed and…I think she was having thoughts of suicide.”“Who? The girl in the bathroom?”“Yeah,” she whispers.“Wait. You could tell what she was thinking?”“Well, not exactly, but I kind of felt what she was thinking.”“And you thought you could take away her sadness?”Honor nods.“But…you fainted. I don’t get it.”“Me neither. I got, like, so sad that my heart really hurt. I actually wanted…to die.”My heart stops a beat. “What?”“After I touched her…I wanted to die.” Honor leans her head into her shoulder.There was nothing either one of us could think of to say after that. We sit there silent until Honor whispers my name again.“What is it, princess?”“It must be terrible to feel so helpless that you want to die.”“Yeah, it is.”Honor doesn’t say anything, but I’m sure she’s feeling what I’m thinking. I’ve been there before. After I killed Summer.While Honor slips back to sleep, I gently toss my feet on the edge of her bed and relish in the sweet sound of her steady breathing. Then I close my own eyes, slink back into the chair, and concentrate on figuring out how to put my new plan into action.***Sleep must have found me as well, because the sound of Ethan’s voice startles me awake.“I asked you a question,” he says in a loud whisper.“Excuse me? You can’t be talking to me.”“Um, yeah…I am.”Remaining in my reclined position, so as to piss him off a little more, I stare him down.“Why are you here, Storm?”I shrug my shoulders. “Same reason you are, I guess.” I try keeping my voice low.“She’s not your girlfriend, she’s mine.”“I never claimed she was. You just must be really threatened by me to keep repeating that.”“Go to hell,” Ethan commands.“Yeah, yeah.” I put my feet on the floor and sit up. “You really have to come up with a new line. Go to hell is gettin’ a bit old.” Still keeping my voice down, I look to the bed and see that Honor is still sleeping. My heart is screaming “Stay with her, don’t leave,” but my head knows better. Ethan deserves some time alone with her, if only for Honor’s sake.I inconspicuously blow my sleeping angel a kiss with my fingertips and walk out. Ethan doesn’t need a good-bye from me.
Giveaway:signed paperback copy of the whole trilogy, open to U.S. residents only AND a $50 Amazon gift card. Open to U.S. and CAN residents only.a Rafflecopter giveaway  

Identity Theft ~ How It Changes One Teen's Life

Identity theft is no game, nor is it a joke. It's a very serious criminal action no one ever wants themselves associated with. Yet, it happens on a daily basis. In Who Am I? Brooke English fights an internal battle to discover her real identity. She believes that her name is something else, from clues given within the first page of the book, but she has no idea how to go about proving she hasn't gone along with her family's schemes that have gone on for as long as she can remember.



In addition to not knowing who she is, Brooke is all too well aware of the consequences of identity theft. Every six months, for as long as she can remember, she has had a new name, a new background, and a new home.



During this period of time when she's living as another person, her family takes their identities to purchase high end items, expensive clothing, and dines in fine restaurants.


Only she feels guilt. Only she wonders how long it will be before the whole house of cards comes crashing down. Yet, she is also terrified of the police, so afraid that she won't approach an officer willingly to expose her living situation.


How she gets out of her situation is something you'll have to read for yourself, but there is a hint. A boy. Isn't there always a boy? This boy is someone from a past she never knew existed, but is she willing to tell him about her past?


Want to know more? You can find Who Am I? here on Amazon:  http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00I2VDIOY



KC Sprayberry started writing young, first as a diarist, and later through an interest in English and creative writing. Her first experience with publication came when she placed third in The Freedoms Foundation at Valley Forge contest while in the Air Force, but her dedication to writing came after she had her youngest child, now in his senior year of high school. Her family lives in Northwest Georgia where she spends her days creating stories about life in the south, and far beyond. More than a dozen of her short stories have appeared in several magazines. Five anthologies feature other short stories. She has three books that are Amazon best sellers: Softly Say Goodbye, Who Am I?, and Mama's Advice. Her other novels available are: Take Chances, The Ghost Catcher, Family Curse … Times Two, Secret From The Flames, Where U @, The Wrong One, Pony Dreams, and Grace.
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Review - Lost Through Time by Jessica Tornese

Welcome to Out of Control Character's review of Lost Through Time by Jessica Tornese. I absolutely love this series, even though it's only on book 2, and I can't wait for book 3 to come out. How do I know there will be a book 3? Believe me, you will too once you read Lost Through Time. First, though, you need to read Linked Through Time, to discover why Kate feels the need to time travel! Once you read these books, you will know why Jessica is the 2012 Author of the Year at Solstice Publishing!


Author Bio: Jessica Tornese's debut novel, Linked Through Time, was inspired by her home town Baudette, MN. She graduated from high school there and continued her education at Minnesota State University – Moorhead where she earned a degree in education. She spent several years coaching the Junior Olympic volleyball program in Minnesota as well as the junior varsity team for Lake of the Woods High School in 2010.Her favorite hobbies include reading, scrapbooking, playing volleyball, and extreme outdoor sports like caving, ziplining, and white water rafting. Jessica is also active in her church and has run several Vacation Bible School programs and Sunday school programs. She enjoys working with kids of all ages!Recently, she self-published her first juvenile fiction book for kids online – M&M Twins.Jessica is married and has three children. Her family recently relocated to the town of Jensen Beach, FL., where Jessica hopes to continue her career in writing.


Blurb: “There never was a body, you know.” Such is the bizarre statement from Gran only weeks after Kate has returned from an accidental time traveling incident, surviving certain death…twice. Capturing Sarah’s killer seemed to be the reason for Kate’s disappearance, but Gran believes otherwise.
Learning of Kate’s power to time travel loosens memories and desires Gran has long since buried. Gran is set on finding Sarah, who she believes never died the night she was thrown in the river, but instead, went back in time through the Rapid River portal. With rudimentary research and analysis, Gran thinks she has unlocked the secrets to controlling the time traveling link that she and Kate share with their ancestors and she wants to use Kate to bring Sarah back.
When Kate agrees, she is shocked to learn that in this more aggressive form of time travel she doesn’t become Sarah, but trades places with her: Kate is sent to Baudette, Minnesota in 1910 while Sarah travels to 2000!
Baudette’s catastrophic 1910 fire and the typhoid epidemic are the least of Kate’s worries. Her chances of a return trip are thwarted with the struggle just to survive, and Sarah, reliving her lost childhood in the comforts of the modern day, decides she’ll never return to the past...


Review: The sequel to the popular Linked Through Time presents Kate with another dilemma to solve, again involving her Aunt Sarah, who may or may not have died forty years earlier. Her grandmother convinces Kate to take another trip through time, to find Sarah and bring her home. Kate is unwilling at first to take another trip through the portal, unwilling to risk her life and live in an era she's only read about, but grandma is insistent, so she goes.Jessica Tornese's sequel to Linked Through Time grabs the reader from the first page. The fast paced action isn't slowed one bit, even when the reader is learning about a fire that destroyed the town where Kate ends up. History comes alive again in this novel, along with a lesson in family dynamics. I couldn't put this book down, until I reached the end, and then I wanted to know more – like when the third book comes out. Definitely a series you'll want to read more than once.I highly recommend this book for all teen readers who love time travel.
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Family – Love Them or … Well, Zan Has a Different Take.

Zan Courtland has a difficult decision to make in Family Curse … Times Two. Just what is that choice? It's not like other families don't have issues, but hers is a little bigger than most.

http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00HQP5W0K 
First of all, her family has been cursed for several centuries. More than a few centuries, actually, with a curse going back to a rather nasty proposal by a MacGregor man to a Courtland woman when both families lived in Scotland. That female laid an extremely nasty curse on all males of MacGregor lineage, and up until present day, the women have run whenever one of the men is close.


Until Zan … until she decides that she won't run any longer. Until she decides that her life as a high school senior is something she doesn't want to give up. Then she figures out that she's not quite prepared to take on the werewolf determined to ignore protocol and come after her before her mama is dust.


So, ask yourself. Is your family this bad? Most of us talk about family curses for things like being overweight, or having a medical problem. None of us consider the probability of fighting a paranormal creature known for shredding its victims.


Blurb: A curse uttered in 1422 sets two families against each other – each side determined to destroy the other. Now, Zan Courtland, unprepared for the task, must face off against her foe – who also happens to be her boyfriend.


About the Author: KC Sprayberry started writing young, first as a diarist, and later through an interest in English and creative writing. Her first experience with publication came when she placed third in The Freedoms Foundation at Valley Forge contest while in the Air Force, but her dedication to writing came after she had her youngest child, now in his senior year of high school. Her family lives in Northwest Georgia where she spends her days creating stories about life in the south, and far beyond. More than a dozen of her short stories have appeared in several magazines. Five anthologies feature other short stories. She has three books that are Amazon best sellers: Softly Say Goodbye, Who Am I?, and Mama's Advice. Her other novels available are: Take Chances, The Ghost Catcher, Family Curse … Times Two, Secret From The Flames, Where U @, The Wrong One, Pony Dreams, and Grace.
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Spotlight: Fairy, Texas by Margo Bond Collins

Welcome to Out of Control Characters. Today, we're hosting Margo Bond Collins and celebrating the release of her new book: Fairy, Texas. Having read Margo's Waking Up Dead, I can't wait to get my mitts on Fairy, Texas. And I can just tell from the blurb and excerpt that you'll love this story from a woman who is proving that she can spin a great tale!


Fairy, Texas Blurb:
Fairy, Texas. A small town like any other.

Laney Harris didn't want to live there. When her mother remarried and moved them to a town where a date meant hanging out at the Sonic, Laney figured that "boring" would have a whole new meaning. A new stepsister who despised her and a high school where she was the only topic of gossip were bad enough. But when she met the school counselor (and his terminal bad breath), she grew suspicious. Especially since he had wings that only she could see. And then there were Josh and Mason, two gorgeous glimmering-eyed classmates whose interest in her might not be for the reasons she hoped. Not to mention that dead guy she nearly tripped over in gym class.

She was right. Boring took on an entirely new dimension in Fairy, Texas.
_____________________________________________
Excerpt 1:
Fairy High could have fit into one wing of my old school. The three-story, red brick building looked like it had been around for at least a century—it actually had carvings over two of the doorways that read “Men’s Entrance” and “Women’s Entrance.” I was glad to see that none of the kids paid any attention to those instructions.         “Counselor’s office,” I muttered to myself. At least I wasn’t starting in the middle of a term—though given the fact that there were fewer than 500 students in the entire high school, I didn’t think I was going to be able to go unnoticed, even in the general bustle of the first day back from summer vacation.        I walked through the door marked “Men’s Entrance,” just be contrary, and faced a long hallway lined with heavy wooden doors. The spaces in between the doors were filled with lockers and marble staircases with ornate hand-rails flanked each end of the long hallway. Students poured in behind me, calling out greetings to each other and jostling me off to the side while I tried to get my bearings. None of the doors obviously led to a main office; I was going to have to walk the entire length of the hallway. And people were already starting to stare and whisper.        God. I hated being the new kid.         I took a deep breath and stepped forward. I made it halfway down the hall without seeing anything informative—all the doors had numbers over them and many of them had name plaques, but neither of those things did me any good since I didn’t know the name or office number for the counselor. I was almost getting desperate enough to ask Kayla, but of course she was nowhere to be seen.        I turned back from scanning the halls for her and caught sight of the first adult I’d seen—and almost screamed. As it was, I gasped loudly enough for a guy walking past me to do a double take. The man standing in the open doorway was tall, over six feet, and way skinny—so emaciated that it looked like you ought to be able to see his ribs through his shirt, if his shirt didn’t hang so loosely on him. He had white hair that stuck out in tufts, thin lips, a sharp nose, and pale blue eyes that narrowed as he watched the kids walk past—and all the kids gave him a wide berth without even seeming to notice that they did so. He stood in an empty circle while students streamed around him in the crowded hallway.        But none of that was what made me almost scream.        For a moment, just as I’d turned toward him, I could have sworn that I’d seen the shadow of two huge, black, leathery wings stretched out behind him. 



About the Author
Margo Bond Collins is the author of a number of novels, including Waking Up Dead, Fairy, Texas, and Legally Undead (forthcoming in 2014). She lives in Texas with her husband, their daughter, and several spoiled pets. She teaches college-level English courses online, though writing fiction is her first love. She enjoys reading urban fantasy and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about vampires, ghosts, zombies, werewolves, and other monsters. 
Connect with Margo:
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Be sure to add Fairy, Texas to your Goodreads bookshelves:Fairy, Texas Goodreads page   

Review: Special Attraction by: M.L. Ryan

Good Thursday morning, and welcome to Out Of Control Characters tour of M.L. Ryan's Special Attraction.

 Author BioM.L. Ryan is a professional woman - which is not to say that she gave up her amateur status, but rather that she is over-educated with a job that reflects her one-time reluctance to leave school and get "real" work – and she spends a lot of time in that profession reading highly technical material.

She has many stories rolling around in her head, and she finally decided to write some of them. She prefers literature that isn’t saddled with excruciating symbolism, ponderous dialogue or worldly implications. She also doesn’t like plots so reliant on love at first sight that it makes her feel like her head might implode.

She lives in Tucson, Arizona with her husband and teenage son, four cats, two dogs and an adopted desert tortoise.
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SynopsisThe weirdness continues….

Thanks to a magical transplant from an inter-dimensional enforcer, Hailey Parrish can transform into a hawk. When someone begins dismembering hikers along the Appalachian Trail, the enforcers make use of her feathery talents to pursue the killer.  Unfortunately, like most things in Hailey’s life, there is nothing ordinary about the assignment.  Their target turns out to be maddeningly elusive, they rescue a stray dog that makes a sewage treatment plant seem pleasantly fragrant, and stopping the murders turns out to be the least of their worries. 
Special Attraction, the third book in the Coursodon Dimension series, combines paranormal romance, urban fantasy, a bit of science fiction and a healthy dose of quirky humor. 



Review:Thanks to possession by a Xyxok, Hailey Parrish can now become a hawk. She works with a group from another dimension to investigate crimes that are "unusual." Her significant other, Alex Sunderland, and other individuals from a second dimension assist her in this endeavor. Nothing, however, prepares them for their newest target, for what appears to be a serial killer with no remorse becomes a frustrating case when the individual they're tracking disappears without a trace. Even worse, this scum of the earth now wants to take over Alex's home dimension. Will they find the perpetrator? Or will a nation Hailey cares about disappear forever?M.L. Ryan crafts an interesting story within a paranormal realm. The suspense takes the reader to the edge of their seat and holds them there, as the investigators are frustrated by one event after another without any contact with the mysterious killer. Even the introduction of a dog that appears to be more than he is doesn't detract from the story, as the tension builds to a climax.All in all, this is a nice tale, with excellently crafted paranormal elements. There were a few things I found distracting to the story, though. There was too much attention to the physical relationship of Hailey and Alex. The beginning of the story was too drawn out, with the focus being the bedroom interruptus seeming to be the main focus of the story for far too long. Near the end, as the reader begins to despair of ever knowing vital information to solving the mystery, the dialogue is used to fill in the blanks, which distracts from the action as the final confrontation approaches.I'd recommend this story to those who enjoy paranormal suspense, but they must also love a good paranormal love story. 
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Giveaway: There is a giveaway for this tour. $25 Amazon Giftcard or PayPal Cash. Open Internationally. The code for the Rafflecopter is provided below Those who submitted links for the Rafflecopter are expected to post the giveaway on their sites (this will be confirmed!). Otherwise, there is no obligation, but posting the giveaway is appreciated.
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Blitz – Pony Dreams!

Pony Dreams is now available. Links are live. Now comes the fun part. 13 bloggers are doing a blitz today to celebrate this book.
Blurb:

Abigail Weston's starry-eyed dream is to become the first female  Pony Express Rider. Ma, Pa, and six overprotective won't even let her near the corral to train mustangs for the mail venture, so she gives up her dream to sneak out and talk to the ponies, teaching them to accept her weight on their backs.

Then her life chances and all her dreams are dust. Or are they? 


Geotargeted Amazon Link: http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00HTQNE7Y

Excerpt: Late May, 1860 near Carson City, Nevada If anyone had asked me to describe fifteen, I'd tell them it was near an impossible age. Everyone expected me to act like a lady and wear dresses all the time. I had to pin up my hair instead of letting it swing in the breeze in two long braids. Ladies didn't run around without a care in the world, nor could they allow the sun to tan their skin. Being a lady stinks. What I wanted deep in my heart was to wear pants and train horses from sunup to sunset. No one in my family listened whenever I begged them to let me help with training the horses, so a lady I was. They told me to get about my chores. To stay out of trouble, I did those awful, everyday, jobs but with hate in my heart. That was all I, Abigail Grace Weston, faced—never-ending, boring housework day in and day out. I would never get a break from this boredom, as a lady in the nineteenth century never had a chance to think for herself, nor did she really run her home. A man always took care of a lady. This was one of the strictest rules I learned at an early age. No one ever let me forget it, no matter what dreams I had, like the forbidden desire to one day becoming a Pony Express rider. 
The Bloggers:
Kim Shaw S Cu'Anam Policar Aubrey Wynne Sabina Bundgaard Kay LaLone J.J. DiBenedetto April Erwin Tracy Riva Caroline Andrus Ren Reidy Suzanne DeMontigny Georgina Merry Donna Patton

The Pony Express – Joining the Country in the 19th Century!

One bright morning in April of 1860, a revolutionary idea began its first run from San Francisco, California to St. Joseph, Missouri. Touted as a fast way to communicate from coast to coast in our burgeoning country, The Pony Express was operational with very few glitches.


While the North and the South grumbled and mumbled, while rumors of war seemed certain to become a reality, this venture gathered the most adventurous young men to ride at breakneck speeds. For only a nickel, families long separated by distance could once again communicate with each other in a timely manner.


At any one time, 80 riders were streaking back and forth, or awaiting their turn atop the mochilla carrying the precious mail. These daring young men earned an outstanding $100 to $125 per month, an absolute fortune in those days, and most didn't have anywhere to spend it. This operation ran twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Blizzards, extreme desert heat, thunderstorms, even Indian attacks didn't waylay the rider from his sworn duty to deliver the mail.


My YA novel, Pony Dreams, features one of these riders, Pony Bob Haslam. He was one of the more colorful riders, a man who would punch his horse in the nose, to see if the animal had what it takes to make it to the next station.


Pony Dreams isn't another book about the Pony Express. It's a book about hopes and dreams, about a teenage girl on the frontier coming of age, about never giving up on what you want.


A note I included in the book expresses that Abby Weston's desire at the end of this exciting story came true. She was disconcerted by the end of the Pony Express, brought about by the poles and wire of the telegraph.The Pony Express began its service on April 2, 1860 and ended on October 18, 1861 – just eighteen months, but a time that has taken its rightful place in our history. The telegraph took over for the Pony Express, but even the telegraph couldn't last against another new innovation, the computer and email, with the last Western Union telegraph sent on January 27, 2006!


KC Sprayberry started writing young, first as a diarist, and later through an interest in English and creative writing. Her first experience with publication came when she placed third in The Freedoms Foundation at Valley Forge contest while in the Air Force, but her dedication to writing came after she had her youngest child, now in his senior year of high school.


Her family lives in Northwest Georgia where she spends her days creating stories about life in the south, and far beyond. More than a dozen of her short stories have appeared in several magazines. Five anthologies feature other short stories. She has three books that are Amazon best sellers: Softly Say Goodbye, Who Am I?, and Mama's Advice. Her other novels available are: Take Chances, The Ghost Catcher, Family Curse … Times Two, Secret From The Flames, Where U @, The Wrong One, Pony Dreams, and Grace.
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