Jamie Marchant's Blog, page 14
June 15, 2017
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Join my Twitter Party celebrating today’s release of The Goddess’s Choice:
The Goddess’s Choice Release Blitz and Giveaway
The Goddess’s Choice
The Kronicles of Korthlundia Book 1
by Jamie Marchant
Genre: Epic Fantasy
In a world where the corrupt church hides the truth about magic, the
fate of the joined kingdom falls on the shoulders of two young people
from opposite ends of the social hierarchy.
Crown Princess Samantha’s life begins to fall apart when she starts
seeing strange colors around her potential suitors. She fears that
she’s going insane–or worse that she’s defying the Goddess’s
will. Robrek is a lowly farm boy with incredible magical powers. He
has been biding his time waiting to get revenge on those who call him
a demon.
Thrown together by chance, they must overcome their differences to fight
their common enemy Duke Argblutal, who, with dark magic, is slowly
poisoning the king’s mind and turning him against his own daughter.
Time is running out for those chosen by the Goddess to prevent the
power mad duke from usurping the throne and plunging the joined
kingdoms into civil war.
**On Sale – .99 TODAY ONLY!!***
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**Don’t miss The Soul Stone: Book Two in The Kronicles of Korthlundia series!**
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Jamie began writing stories about the man from Mars when she was six, and
she never remembers wanting to be anything other than a writer.
Everyone told her she needed a back up plan, so she pursued a Ph.D.
in American literature, which she received in 1998. She started
teaching writing and literature at Auburn University. One day in the
midst of writing a piece of literary criticism, she realized she’d
put her true passion on the backburner and neglected her muse. The
literary article went in the trash, and she began the book that was
to become The Goddess’s Choice, which was published in April 2012.
Her other novels include The Soul Stone and The Ghost in Exile. In
addition, she has published a novella, Demons in the Big Easy, and a
collection of short stories, Blood Cursed and Other Tales of the
Fantastic. Her short fiction has also appeared in the
anthologies–Urban Fantasy and Of Dragons & Magic: Tales of the
Lost Worlds—and in Bards & Sages, The World of Myth, A Writer’s
Haven, and Short-story.me. She claims she writes about the fantastic
. . . and the tortured soul. Her poor characters have hard lives. She
lives in Auburn, Alabama, with her husband and four cats, which (or
so she’s been told) officially makes her a cat lady. She still
teaches writing and literature at Auburn University. She is the
mother of a grown son.
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The Goddess’s Choice is Here
The long awaited expanded edition of The Goddess’s Choice arrives today. Celebrate with a special price of $.99 for today only.
In a world where the corrupt church hides the truth about magic, the fate of the joined kingdom falls on the shoulders of two young people from opposite ends of the social hierarchy.
Crown Princess Samantha’s life begins to fall apart when she starts seeing strange colors around her potential suitors. She fears that she’s going insane–or worse that she’s defying the Goddess’s will. Robrek is a lowly farm boy with incredible magical powers. He has been biding his time waiting to get revenge on those who call him a demon.
Thrown together by chance, they must overcome their differences to fight their common enemy Duke Argblutal, who, with dark magic, is slowly poisoning the king’s mind and turning him against his own daughter. Time is running out for those chosen by the Goddess to prevent the
The Angel Knights Series Book Tour & Giveaway
The Angel Knights
Prequel/Novella
by Mary Ting
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Michael and Claudia’s decision to move back to Crossroads was to keep their
children safe, but they can’t escape who they are. Their children,
Zachary and Lucia, were destined to be demon hunters—Venators. From
the age they were able to hold a sword, they were trained to become
the best and to ensure they would become leaders one day.
All is peaceful throughout the land until the Fallen and demons’
presences were felt in the between and on Earth. As the Venators
investigate these locations, they will quickly learn how dangerous
their lives are. Hearts will be broken. Teammates will lose their
lives. And they will face obstacles which will test their faith.
As danger grows, the fear of fallen angels and demons regrouping has the
Divine Elders on pins and needles. Now, Zachary and Lucia, along with
Uncle Davin, must prepare themselves—mentally and physically—to
live on Earth to investigate where the focal point of evil resides
before it’s too late.
**Strongly recommended to read before the rest of the books!**
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The Chosen Knights
The Angel Knights Series Book 1
(HIGHLY recommend to read prequel first–The Angel Knights)
*** SILVER AWARD WINNER 2016–YA FANTASY–READERS’ FAVORITE INTERNATIONAL
BOOK AWARD***
A page turning mystery with a supernatural twist that entertains to the
last page! ~InD’tale Magazine
When teens go missing in Hawaii, a group of demon-hunters—half human and
half angel—disguised as high school students, must leave
Crossroads, the place where they reside. In a race against time, they
uncover the mystery connecting the missing teens, which dates back to
the era of the Knights Templar. However, when they discover one of
the Templars passed down a book containing all the secrets and codes
to finding a particular treasure, they soon realize this forbidden
treasure needs to be found before Cyrus, the lord of the possessor
demons, acquires it—a treasure which been safeguarded and hidden
from him.
There is only one problem: the pages containing the clues leading to the
treasure is missing. When the first page is found, Cyrus threatens to
kill more descendants of the Knights Templar if it is not given to
him by Friday the thirteenth. In the midst of threats and discovery,
the demon-hunting angels find they are not alone when supernatural
beings begin to reveal themselves. Can they put their differences
aside and work together to solve the Knights Templars’ cipher? As
they astral travel to the past, they witness a lot more than they
have bargained for. And some things are better left unseen.
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The Blessed Knights
The Angel Knight Series Book 2
Above a small hill lay a home.
And green men peer out under the dome.
Thirteen crisscrossing arches behold,
with angels singing must be told.
Cubes like teeth thus showed,
pierce one and the door shall glow.
Part the sea like Moses,
to see the bundle of red roses.
Only then you shall see,
what is destined to be free.
Eli, Lucia’s half-demon love interest, has been stabbed with a
true-cross dagger and captured by Cyrus, master of the possessor
demons. The Chosen Knights must work together once again not only to
save Eli, but also to decipher a clue to find the second missing page
of Jacques de Molay’s journal. Meanwhile, Uncle Davin informs
Crossroads’ Divine Elders of the danger ahead and learns there is
much to fear. Countless children are being taken from all over the
world to be turned into demons. Michael, one of the Divine Elders,
has no choice but to intervene. The Chosen Knights track down Mortem,
the demon who is the key to finding Cyrus, and learn they must travel
deep into the pit of a Hawaiian volcano. When they astral travel to
the past in search of a clue and follow Jacques de Molay to Rosselyn
Chapel in medieval Scotland, what they find will rewrite history.
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From The Chosen Knights:
Though it seemed impossible, in no time he stood in front of me. He appeared like a ghost, then became translucent, and then took on the form of black mist outlining the shape of his face and body. The beauty and the mystery of this supernatural being hypnotized me. As his entity flickered in and out, a soft wind lightly tousled my hair and caressed my body. To my surprise, an incredible warmth filled me. I gasped, unsure of what to do. I should be deathly afraid of the unknown, but I wasn’t.
His stare never faltered. It reached to the depths of my soul as he breathed in the air of my existence, and I his. He smelled like a mixture of sweet coconut and the freshest greens of nature. As his lips moved closer to mine, a cool mist floated out of his mouth, then back in, and I felt my body levitate, feeling weightless as a withered leaf falling from a branch swaying with the autumn wind.
Eli’s dark, menacing eyes told me he was dangerous. Something wicked ran in his blood. I sensed it with every angel instinct in me. Yet, at the same time, I sensed something good. How could I feel both at the same time? Then a strong urge forced me to close my eyes. When I opened them, he had vanished. He was sitting with his back to me again, as if what I had experienced was only a figment of my imagination. What the heck just happened?
“Lucia? Are you okay?” I heard Jack’s voice, snapping me out of my trance.
“Jack? Did you see? Was he just…?”
Jack had no idea what I meant. I stopped asking him questions, realizing some kind of supernatural activity had happened. Stunned by how easily Eli had controlled me, he was…what?
International Bestselling Author Mary Ting/M. Clarke resides in Southern California
with her husband and two children. She enjoys oil painting and making
jewelry. Writing her first novel, Crossroads Saga, happened by
chance. It was a way to grieve the death of her beloved grandmother,
and inspired by a dream she once had as a young girl. When she
started reading new adult novels, she fell in love with the genre. It
was the reason she had to write one-Something Great. Why the pen
name, M Clarke? She tours with Magic Johnson Foundation to promote
literacy and her children’s chapter book-No Bullies Allowed.
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June 14, 2017
Martin Vause, a Northumbrian creator of mermaids and dragons
Welcome my guest today, fantasy author, Martin Vause, from Northumbria, England. Some day I will visit the island, and these places will become more to me than names from novels. In the comments below, let me know what you think.
Interview
Tell us a little about yourself?I am a healthy 59 year old with a youthful outlook on life; living for love, art, beauty and my writing in the remote countryside of North Northumberland, England. Sounds like a bit of a fantasy itself, but that part of my life is true.
What are your biggest literary influences? Favorite authors and why?
Francoise Sagan for emotional feminine insight, Franz Kafka for so clearly exposing psychological reactions, and Sappho whose surviving fragments written around 600BC have inspired all love poetry ever since.
If you could have written any other book by any other author, what would it be, and why?
Justine by Lawrence Durrell because I marvel at the intricacy and depth of the psychology and human motivations he exposes in such detail, which is so elegantly described and also beautifully written.
Tell us something about how you write? i.e. are you a plotter or a pantser? Do you have any weird or necessary writing habits or rituals?
Imagination inspired daydreams scribbled on jotter pads form the foundation of my stories.
Could you tell us a bit about your most recent book?
Astrilla inhabits a fantasy world where time is a three dimensional sphere, not a straight line from past, present to future. She doesn’t know how many past lives she has lived as organic memory will not contain so many beautiful fragments in one body. In this life she is both a mermaid and human yet she searches for reason and meaning within the seemingly endless age of perfection. Together with a powerful Goddess she fights to maintain a world where love has replaced hate and peace reigns supreme. Still lurking in the darkness is tightly coiled evil that didn’t die and was just resting. Hidden from the light the last monster broods and slithers until all that is worth living for is under threat. Mythological creatures, talking animals, and a myriad delight of mystical experiences await the invisible visitor to this realm that is yourself. Complete with the poetic evocation of Sappho inspired neo- classicism ‘Sadwi the Deer Goddess’. My extreme fantasy writing began with this secret nest of a book which is also available as a luxurious full colour illustrated edition.
What gives you inspiration for your book?
The beauty and sensitivity of loving emotions, the countryside surrounding where I live, and my wild romantic imagination.
What else would you like readers to know about you or your work?
Amphitrite’s Tunnel is a grown up’s fantasy story set in a parallel world of mermaids, Princesses & a powerful Goddess. I invented ‘Sadwiesque’ which is a parallel realm to our normal human world. Based on love & peace mythology lives in this separate reality. This is the heaven on earth!
My first two books The Forest Angels & Sian’s Gift are more conventional mystery – ghost stories with an emphasis on positive emotions.
At the centre of my created characters you will always find kindness, sensitivity and the purity of loving relationships + Amphitrite’s Tunnel has mermaids & dragons!
Where can we find you online?
Blog/Website: https://martinvause.wordpress.com/
Facebook: I don’t need facebook. My only imaginary friends are my book characters!
Twitter: @VauseMartin
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1543257631/
http://amazon.com/dp/1530652634/
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1533317682/
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1530553954/
About the books
The Forest Angels
The Forest Angels is a compilation of Martin Vause’s two romantically inclined mystery thrillers: The Forest of Twins & The Lost Angel of Carmarthen. Together with the gothic fantasy poem “Sadwi the Deer Goddess,” they form a powerful and unique combination which explores the depth and range of loving relationships through the lives of an artistic couple. Touched by ghosts and a fear of loss beyond human control, they cling together on a journey that explores the sensitivities of the human soul. Love and mystery are the touchstones of this pastoral suburban dreamscape. Alf and Sian come alive as if unrestrained by the fiction writer’s page. They were not born but live as we never could, outside of time.
Sian’s Gift
Alf and Sian’s artistic lifestyle enters a new phase as Sian’s angel ghost bestowed gift raises the pressure on their smooth suburban dreamscape. As April and Anna nurture a new life, which also feels like Sian’s gift to them; the new angel of Carmarthen struggles to balance a normal modern life with an ancient responsibility. Continuing from the compilation of Martin Vause’s first two romantically inclined mystery thrillers presented as‘The Forest Angels, Sian’s Gift the third outing for Alf and Sian, her “gift” is a present she must open with extreme care.
Amphitrite’s Tunnel
Astrilla inhabits a fantasy world where time is a three dimensional sphere, not a straight line from past, present to future. She doesn’t know how many past lives she has lived as organic memory will not contain so many beautiful fragments in one body. In this life she is both a mermaid and human, yet she searches for reason and meaning within the seemingly endless age of perfection. Together with a powerful Goddess, she fights to maintain a world where love has replaced hate and peace reigns supreme. Still lurking in the darkness is tightly coiled evil that didn’t die and was just resting. Hidden from the light the last monster broods and slithers until all that is worth living for is under threat. Mythological creatures, talking animals, and a myriad delight of mystical experiences await the invisible visitor to this realm that is yourself. Complete with the poetic evocation of Sappho inspired neo- classicism “Sadwi the Deer Goddess.” Martin Vause’s fantasy writing begins with this rare and secret nest of a book. This book is also available as a luxurious full colour illustrated edition.
June 13, 2017
Moms Against Zombies Release Tour
MOMS AGAINST ZOMBIES
by Alathia Paris Morgan
Genre: Paranormal Horror
Emma Jackson is an army wife and new mom with all the uncertainties that come with it… until that fear is pushed in a different direction. Instead of worrying about diapers and feeding schedules, her only objective is to keep her child alive after being chased by a man who looks entirely too dead.
Trish Walsh thought her day was bad when she had to drag all four of her children on an errand, but she rethinks the meaning after what she can only hope was someone dressed up like a zombie beats on her car door. Yet, the bloody mess left behind is anything but reassuring.
Cooper Walsh’s job is top secret. When criminals break in to steal his company’s secrets, he overhears the conspiracy devised to create chaos as a cover-up. Knowing he must do everything in his power to right the wrong, he sets out on a mission.
Surviving long enough to reunite with their families is all that matters. That… and stopping the zombie apocalypse before it destroys them.
It had only been six weeks since I’d had my baby. Today’s the day for my check up and to get the doctor’s okay to do some hanky panky with my hubby when he comes home. Well it won’t matter if I have a doctor’s note or not, my husband is back overseas with his unit. He was able to come home for a week when the baby was born, but he won’t be home for good anytime soon.
As I lay there waiting for the Gyno doctor to come and check me out in this flimsy little dress, I hear a commotion out in the hallway.
Hurried whispers and quick running footsteps down the hallway make me get up and tiptoe to the door in my bare feet. Cracking the door open I look toward the reception area, but all I can see is a stack of papers floating to the floor.
“What in the world?” I glance back to make sure the baby, Pierce, is still resting comfortably.
Hearing a scream from somewhere in the front, I decide the best course of action is to get dressed and put my tennis shoes back on. Flicking the lock closed, I got dressed in record time and collected my stuff as I headed back to the door.
Cautiously opening it, I couldn’t see anyone at all so I sling the diaper bag over one shoulder and my purse on the opposite side. Placing my phone in my back pocket and my keys in my hand, I hooked my arm through Pierce’s carrier and walked out into the hallway ready for anything.
It has gotten spookily quiet. There weren’t any voices or sounds coming from the reception area that had been filled only a half hour ago.
As I proceeded out through the now empty building, I wondered what had caused the evacuation.
Opening the front doors, I’m hit with sunshine.
“Shoot, I forgot the sunglasses.” Placing the baby down at my feet, I start to dig in the diaper bag when I notice a sound at the side of the building. Glancing up, there is a man walking toward me.
Wait, walking is a broad term for the way he is dragging his feet and lumbering towards me in a very aggressive manner and that is when I notice the blood dripping from his chest.
The screams now made sense. There must have been a shooting. While I would love to help, I have a new baby to protect and this guy is creeping me out, so I grab the carrier and make a run for the car.
Punching the button to unlock and open the van’s sliding doors, I am tempted to just place the carrier inside and buckle Pierce in a few blocks away, but it’s already so ingrained, the need to secure him, so I go ahead even though it will take a few seconds longer.
Sure enough the bloody guy is following me to my car. I open my door and jump in hitting the locks and praying this guy doesn’t have a gun on him.
I place the vehicle in drive and screech out of the parking lot which I’ve never done before because it takes the tire tread off and that’s just wasteful.
As I head toward my home, I realize there is a lot of traffic out on the road and people look really panicked.
The highway is congested and I’m getting a really bad feeling about this so I decide to take the back roads to my home, which is thankfully only about ten minutes away.
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Alathia is known to those around her for having an a long time love affair/obsession with Dr. Pepper, she has asked to be buried with a can so that it never runs out in the after life. Always bossy, she uses her mothering instincts to help others and share awareness of abuse in child and domestic situations.
A B.S. in History and English gave wings to her vivid imagination in book form. A supportive and loving husband has given her the chance to make her dreams a reality. Their three daughters and three dogs keep her busy while writing is a great way for her to wind down and destress.
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June 12, 2017
The Goddess’s Choice, expanded edition
On Thursday, the release day of the expanded edition of The Goddess’s Choice will finally arrive. To celebrate, I will be offering the Kindle version for only $.99 on Thursday only.
I will also be having a twitter party on Thursday. There will be games, contest, prizes, fun, and more! Don’t miss out. Details below.
I’d love to see y’all there. (Yes, I live in the South, but I didn’t grow up here, and English needs a 2nd person plural. Y’all is much better than you guys.)
June 10, 2017
Secrets of the Hanged Man Release Blitz
SECRETS OF THE HANGED MAN
Icarus Fell series, book 3
by Bruce Blake
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Icarus Fell thought the afterlife couldn’t get any worse…until Hell came looking for him.
When you are the orphaned child of a disgraced nun, and you’re saddled with a ridiculous name like Icarus Fell, you don’t expect things can go drastically downhill.
Until death comes along and an archangel recruits you for a job you screw up so badly you nearly lose your son to a demonic priest and a fallen angel.
And then, burdened by the lives lost because of your foul ups, you travel to Hell, a detour that costs you more dearly then you could ever have imagined.
No, things couldn’t get much worse in the afterlife…unless Satan sends his lap dog to bring back the one thing he thinks belongs to him.
You.
Why couldn’t death be easy?
The man tottered past the door without a second look and entered my territory. I held my breath. I didn’t imagine for a second he’d hear me breathing, but it’s what you do when you don’t want people to find you, a tactic every kid learns playing hide-and-seek.
He stopped a few feet away, wobbling side to side like a man standing on the deck of a ship at sea rather than a stable patch of cement behind the fifth best Italian joint in town. I didn’t fancy the look of him: he resembled a man unable to hold his booze.
Desperate to prove me right, he jerked to the side, bent at the waist and threw up on a pile of garbage bags.
“Jesus, dude. Careful. I think you got some on my shoes.”
Startled, the man fell back, his ass squishing on a damp piece of cardboard. He surveyed my dark corner, staring right at me without seeing me, probably shocked at a trash heap that spoke English. I toyed with the idea of fucking with him, but my annoyance at his presence squashed the desire. It made more sense to get rid of him because the dinner rush would be done soon, and I didn’t want to share the bounty.
I leaned forward and his gaze found me, not exactly like looking in a mirror for him because his rumpled and creased business suit and recently-cut-but-out-of-place short hair didn’t match my look. In eight months, I’d been near a barber once to ask for change, never for a trim. And opportunities to wash oneself or one’s clothes came along infrequently when living on the street—ditto the chance to shave—so I’d done neither in weeks. My patchy teenage beard probably made me look more like a crazy man.
“S…sorry, ah, dude.” The man wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then his hands on his pants. “I didn’t see you.”
He didn’t sound as intimidated as I’d hoped. “No sweat, man. Just don’t puke on me again.”
“Sure.”
He clawed at trash bags, clambering in the manner of a turtle flipped on its back until he got his feet under him, then brushed at the grime on his overcoat, smudging it across the lapel with his grubby hands. Smearing complete, he stood watching me, arms dangling loose at his sides.
I faded into the shadows, looked at the end of my joint to make sure it was still lit, then took a deep drag, the burner’s orange glow illuminating my lips and the tip of my nose. With one eye closed to keep the smoke out, I held my breath for a few seconds, then puffed it free of my lungs in a swirling cloud. The man breathed deep, inhaling the sweet odor of marijuana, and looked at me expectantly.
“You want a hit, dude?” Maybe if I shared my weed, I wouldn’t have to share the food when it arrived.
“S…sure.”
He took a step, hand extended to accept my offer.
“Grab a seat.”
I shuffled over in a rustle of cardboard and plastic, creating space for him to sit and thinking that, if I got him high enough fast enough, he wouldn’t notice when room service showed up. The guy looked a lightweight, so it shouldn’t take much.
He slouched forward to take a seat and lost his balance; on the way down, his forehead smacked against the brick wall and he tumbled into my lap. I jerked my hand away, barely keeping him from knocking the joint out of my fingers.
“Come on, man. First you lose your cookies on me, now you sit on me? Get it together.”
“S-s-sorry.” The stuttered word bore the distinct slur of inebriation, or maybe the ding he’d taken to the noodle caused it. He shinnied himself off me, coming too-close-for-comfort to pawing my balls as he did, then scooted his butt around until he found a comfortable spot amongst the garbage. “My name is Jack.”
He held out his hand for me to shake, but instead of the usual societal formalities, I offered him the joint. Jack took it between his thumb and index finger and inhaled with the exaggerated sucking sound made by people who don’t normally smoke. He held his breath and passed the reefer back. I grinned when his lungs revolted and a held-in cough bulged his cheeks, making him resemble a poor impersonation of Dizzy Gillespie.
“Good shit, hey?”
“Yeah,” Jack agreed struggling to inhale a breath of fresh air. “Good shit.”
I took another pull of the joint. “I haven’t seen you around before. You’re not dressed like most of the guys who hang out here.”
He looked down at his suit and I followed his gaze to the streak of puke down the front of his jacket, the spots of grime on the lapel. His purple tie hung askew and the creased tails of his mauve shirt hung over his belt.
“Had a fight with my girlfriend,” he said and belched the mixed aroma of puke and ganja. I waved my hand to clear the air; he swallowed and grimaced. “She’s pregnant.”
“And this is how you celebrate?”
Jack shook his head and winced with pain. “Nothing to celebrate. Kid can’t be mine.”
“Shitty, dude. Another drag?”
He blinked, then rubbed his hand across his eyes like someone scrubbing the sleepiness away. I waited for a second, but he didn’t seem to have heard me, so I elbowed him in the ribs to get his attention.
“You all right, man?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He took the joint, blinking. I thought the smoke caused it but, when he turned, I saw blood flowing into his eyes from the gash he’d given himself in the forehead. A trail of dark fluid ran from his hairline, past his eye, along his cheek and down to his jaw.
“Dude, you got some blood there.”
Jack’s eyes rolled up, looking for the wound like a dog chasing its tail, then he giggled at himself for trying to see his own forehead. He transferred the joint to his left hand, touched his head and lowered his fingers in front of his eyes.
“Banged my head,” he said and took a toke. “Hurts.”
“I bet.”
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ON UNFAITHFUL WINGS
To some, death is the end; to others, a beginning. To Icarus Fell, it should have been a relief from a life gone seriously awry.
But death had other plans.
Icarus doesn’t believe that the man awaiting him when he wakes up in a cheap motel room is really the archangel Michael, or that God’s right hand wants him to help souls on their way to Heaven. Icarus doesn’t believe there’s a Heaven, so why should they want his help?
But the man claiming to be the archangel tempts him with an offer he can’t ignore–harvest enough souls and get back the life he wished he’d had.
It seems Icarus has nothing to lose, until he botches a harvest and the soul that went to Hell instead of Heaven comes back to make him pay by threatening to take away the life he hoped to win back.
To save the wife and son he already lost once, Icarus will have to become the man he never was. Somehow, he will have to learn to believe.
ALL WHO WANDER ARE LOST
If we’re good, we go to Heaven; if we’re bad we go to Hell. No one wants to go to Hell.
Except one man who wishes people would just remember to call him Ric.
In the aftermath of a serial killer’s murderous spree, souls who didn’t deserve damnation went to Hell. The archangel Michael doesn’t seem concerned, but Icarus Fell can’t bear the guilt of knowing it’s his fault they ended up there.
But how can he save them when the archangel forbids him from going and his guardian angel refuses to help?
The answer comes in the form of another beautiful, bewitching guardian angel who offers to be his guide. They travel to Hell to rescue the unjustly damned one by one, but salvation comes at a cost and the economy of Hell demands souls.
Is it a price Icarus is willing to pay?
Bruce Blake lives on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada. When pressing issues like shovelling snow and building igloos don’t take up his spare time, Bruce can be found taking the dog sled to the nearest coffee shop to work on his short stories and novels.
Actually, Victoria, B.C. is only a couple hours north of Seattle, Wash., where more rain is seen than snow. Since snow isn’t really a pressing issue, Bruce spends more time trying to remember to leave the “u” out of words like “colour” and “neighbour” than he does shovelling (and watch out for those pesky double l’s). The father of two, Bruce is also the trophy husband of a burlesque diva.
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June 9, 2017
Novel Openings: Don’t Begin at the Beginning
(Note: some of the following has been adapted from Rayne Hall’s blog.)
I can’t remember what show I was watching or which book I was reading, but one character needed to tell another what had happened. She says, “I don’t know where to begin.”
He responds, “Begin at the beginning.”
For novel openings, this is bad advice. Hall likens this to starting to cook after your dinner guests have arrived. The beginning of nearly anything is boring and won’t catch your reader’s interest. The other common advice is begin with action. Although this is slightly better than begin at the beginning, I don’t find it fantastic advice either. For one thing, action can be confusing when none of the characters or even the setting have been introduced. (And confusing the reader is the greatest sin of an opening. Nothing stops a reader reading more quickly than confusion.) Second, if the reader doesn’t care about the characters, the action has little to no emotional impact.
An effective opening needs to do three things:
1) Set time and place.
Readers need to be oriented to the world they are inhabiting right away. Not in intricate detail, but enough so they feel grounded. The reader needs to know if she is in contemporary USA, medieval Europe, or a space colony orbiting the planet Xenon. Let’s look at the opening of Storm Front, the first book in Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files series:
The mailman walked towards my office door, half an hour earlier than usual. He didn’t sound right. His footsteps fell more
heavily, jauntily, and he whistled. A new guy. He whistled his way to my office door and then fell silent for a moment. Then he laughed.
Then he knocked.
I winced. My mail comes through the mail slot unless it’s registered. I get a really limited selection of registered mail, and it’s never good news. I got up out of my office chair and opened the door.
The new mailman looked like a basketball with arms and legs and a sunburned, balding head, and he stood chuckling and reading the sign on the door glass. He glanced at me and hooked a thumb towards the office glass. “You’re kidding, right?”
I read the sign (people change it occasionally), and shook my head. “No, I’m serious. Can I have my mail, please.”
“So, uh. Like parties, shows, stuff like that?” He looked past me, as though he expected to see a white tiger, or possibly some skimpily clad assistants prancing around my one-room office.
I sighed, not in the mood to get mocked again, and reached for the mail he held in his hand. “No, not like that. I don’t do parties.”
He held on to it, his head tilted curiously. “So what? Some kinda fortuneteller? Cards and crystal balls and things?”
“No,” I told him. “I’m not a psychic.” I tugged at the mail.
He held onto it. “What are you, then?”
“What’s the sign on the door say?”
“It says ‘Harry Dresden. Wizard.’”
“That’s me,” I confirmed.
“An actual wizard?” he asked, grinning, as though I should let him in on the joke. “Spells and potions? Demons and incantations? Subtle and quick to anger?”
“Not so subtle.” I jerked the mail out of his hand, and looked pointedly at his clipboard. “Can I sign for my mail please.”
The new mailman’s grin vanished, replaced with a scowl. He passed over the clipboard to let me sign for the mail (another late notice from my landlord), and said, “You’re a nut. That’s what you are.” He took his clipboard back and said, “You have a nice day, sir.”
There is no long description of setting here. But the reader is oriented. We have a mailman delivering mail in an office building. This clues the reader in that he is in contemporary America. Also, that we are probably in a city. We also get the idea that this is urban fantasy because Harry insists that he is “an actual wizard.” The reader can feel comfortable; more details of setting can follow later.
2) Make the reader care about your main character.
If the reader doesn’t care about the character, she rarely cares about the plot. If we don’t care about a person, why would we care what happens to them? Butcher makes us care about Harry in his opening. He is about to get bad news. We can sympathize with someone getting bad news. He is used to mocked. We tend to side with people being made fun of. Yet he has an attitude. The sign on his door announces him as a wizard even though he knows he’ll be laughed at for it, and in the midst of being mocked, he doesn’t take the easy out the mailman gives him about doing children’s parties. We like that kind of strength.
3) Intrigue the reader.
You want to present the reader with a mystery, make them curious so that they need to read on to learn the answer. What is this bad news that Harry just got? Few readers would stop before learning that. What does a wizard do in a world where people think he’s a nut?
This beginning is certainly not at the beginning of Harry’s story, which we will learn later through flashback. Nor is there a lot of action. A mailman knocks, Harry answers and gets his mail. But if the reader is anything like me, she will certainly go on reading, for the next fifteen books. When, oh when, will #16 be here?
While the beginning of a novel is absolutely crucial to selling your book to publishers, agents, or directly to readers, as a writer, don’t worry about this when starting to write the novel. It’s nearly impossible to write a compelling beginning or to even know where the story should start if you haven’t written the novel yet. A compelling beginning is created in the revision process, not the first draft. So don’t spend so much time agonizing over your opening so that you never actually write the novel. Start wherever you feel inspired, and fix it on revision.
What’s your favorite novel opening? Post it below.
June 7, 2017
Rebel Vampire Book Tour and Giveaway
Blood Dragons
Rebel Vampires Volume 1
By Rosemary A Johns
Genre: Urban Fantasy
How do you rebel in a family vampires? AWARD-WINNING URBAN FANTASY
“In a precarious world where vampires are both predator and prey,
Blood Dragons deftly blends elements of paranormal thriller and passionate
romance… A character-driven, sizzling-hot saga” –
Midwest Book Review
Escape into a supernatural suspense aflame with love, revenge and
redemption.
There are three people in this affair…and two of them aren’t human.
In a divided paranormal London, Light is the rebel bad boy vampire of
the Blood Lifer world, with a photographic memory. And a Triton
motorbike. Since Victorian times he’s hidden in the shadows with
Ruby – a savage Elizabethan Blood Lifer. She burns with destructive
love for Light. But he’s keeping a secret from her, which breaks
every rule. When she discovers the truth, things take a terrifying
turn.
5* “Compelling” – The Good Writer, Margarita Morris
5* “Completely gripping” – Silver Dagger Scriptorium
For fans of Night Huntress, Immortals After Dark, Anita Blake,
Fever and Blood Dagger Brotherhood take a deep breath and dive into the spellbinding secret world of
Blood Life.
“INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE MEETS TRUE BLOOD”
1960s London. Kathy is a seductive singer but she’s also human. Light is
tempted by his desire and the danger, even though their romance is
forbidden. When the two worlds collide, it could mean the end. For
both species.
When Light discovers his ruthless family’s horrifying experiments, he
questions whether he should be slaying or saving the humans he’s
always feared. What dark revelations will Light reveal at the heart
of the experiments? Will he be able to stop them in time? The
consequences of failure are unimaginable. Unless Light plays the part
of hero, he risks losing everything. Including the two women he
loves.
A rebel, a red-haired devil and a Moon Girl battle to save the world –
or tear it apart.
Goodreads * Amazon
Blood Shackles
Rebel Vampires Volume 2
Would you sacrifice your freedom to save your family?
AWARD-WINNING URBAN FANTASY… When vampires are the slaves, and humans are the
monsters, it’s a dangerous game to love your Mistress. “Tragic,
triumphant, addictive…this is a novel everyone should read” –
Readers’ Favorite 5*
In a divided paranormal London, Light is the bad boy vampire of the
Blood Lifer world, with a talent for remembering things. And a Triton
motorbike. Since Victorian times he’s been forced to hide in the
shadows. But not now. Not since someone hunted him down. When he’s
bought by his Mistress, Light fights to escape. If he doesn’t,
he’ll never solve the conspiracy behind the Blood Club.
WELCOME TO THE BLOOD CLUB
Who are these ruthless humans? And who betrayed the secret of the Blood
Lifer world?
WHERE THE PREDATORS
London, Primrose Hill. Grayse is the slaver’s daughter. She buys Light,
like he’s a pair of designer shoes. So why does Light feel so drawn
to her? Especially when his family is still in chains. Will he risk
everything – even his new love – to save them?
BECOME THE PREY
Does a chilling conspiracy lie behind it all? A stunning revelation leads
Light to an inconceivable truth. To the dark heart of the Blood Club.
If he can face his worst terrors, he can save his family and whole
species from slavery.
Maybe he can even save himself.
Goodreads * Amazon
Blood Renegades
Rebel Vampires Volume 3
Light lives for his vampire family. Now he may die for it.
ESCAPE INTO AWARD-WINNING URBAN FANTASY… Light – rebel, lover, anti-hero
– will be burnt at the stake in fourteen days. In a hidden,
paranormal London, he’s been branded a traitor and terrorist
Renegade – a Blood Lifer hunter of human slavers.
Liberty is a relentless interrogator. She’s been trained to hate Renegades.
Yet when her life converges with Light’s, she’s enticed by the
dark and glory of his world.
Light is catapulted into a nightmare of secret research, deadly enemies and
perilous intrigue. Soon he’s in a race against time to transform
into the true leader vital to save his family, home and love. But
will he be able to judge predator from prey?
Light must make the ultimate choice: to hide in the shadows. Or walk into
the light…
Betrayal. Death. Hope. Isn’t that how all truly great stories start?
“Rosemary A Johns is one of fantasy’s greats. She’ll put you in mind of Anne
Rice and leave you wanting more”- Gothic
Mom’s Reviews
“Take what you know about vampire romance and throw it away. Rosemary A
Johns is not only a refreshing new voice in this genre, she excels
it. Her vampires are edgy, titillating and enticing” – Rockchick
Addiction Reviews
.99 cent sale June 13th – 20th!!
Goodreads * Amazon
WINNER OF SILVER AWARD in the National Wishing Shelf Book Awards.
ROSEMARY A JOHNS is the author of the bestselling Blood
Dragons and Blood Shackles – the compelling Rebel Vampires
series. Blood Renegades is the thrilling third installment.
ROSEMARY A JOHNS is a music fanatic and a paranormal anti-hero addict who creates
spellbinding worlds, thrilling action, gripping suspense and
passionate romances, all uniquely told.
She wrote her first fantasy novel at the age of ten, when she discovered
the weird worlds inside her head were more exciting than double
swimming. Since then she’s studied history at Oxford University,
run a theatre company (her critically acclaimed plays have been
described as “uncomfortable, unsettling and uneasily true to
life”), and worked with disability charities.
When Rosemary’s not falling in love with the rebels fighting their way
onto the page, she heads the Oxford writing group Dreaming Spires.
Website * Newsletter * Facebook * Twitter Pinterest *
Google+ * Amazon * Goodreads
The bloke was leaning against a humungous gleaming finger up to the sky, which they call the Shard.
He would be – the tosser.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, as I swaggered up behind him.
When I tapped him on the shoulder, he jumped a bleeding mile. He could barely have been authored: no instincts at all.
When he spun round, peepers narrowed, I saw he was a kid. A bloody Emo: skull patterned hoodie, black and white striped socks and matching scarf. Even a t-shirt with cartoon vampire: cute fangs and bat wings.
Perfect – he had a sense of irony too.
Emo flicked his long black fringe, which was sprayed green like a mouldy skunk; his peepers were rimmed with enough eyeliner for one too.
Then Emo crossed his arms and tapped his foot, as if I’d been the one who’d been caught out being a bad boy.
And yeah, I was bloody bad but I’d proved I was no boy.
I frowned. ‘Who the bleeding hell are you?’
Emo just smirked.
That did it. No more Mr Nice Light.
‘Look, you pain in my arse, why were you watching us? Can you talk to me or do you have to go get your daddy first?’
The Emo’s smirk widened. Then he head-butted me.
Crack – there went my nose.
Hand strikes – one, two, three – so rapid I didn’t have time to think more than: Emo kids knocking the stuffing out of you with Kenpo Karate? Now that’s not something you see every day.
I choked on the pain blazing in hot shocks where his small hand sliced.
No more Mr Nice Light? All right then.
I grabbed the end of Emo’s stripy scarf and twisted. His turn to choke.
Gasping, Emo hesitated – my in.
Because here’s the thing: I know karate too. And the moment Emo realised it?
Blinding.
I slammed an elbow strike, followed by swift knife-hands, driving Emo crashing back against the glass Shard. It trembled. He kicked my legs; I gritted my teeth but didn’t lose ground. Close now, I went for a flurry of strikes, until all I could hear was his soft grunts and the hit of flesh on flesh.
I’d missed this: fists and fangs. You can’t tame a predator – and I’ve never pretended to be a hero.
Battering that cartoon vampire with its ironic batwings?
Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.
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