Jamie Marchant's Blog, page 19

Michelle M. Pillow on the podcast

Ever wondered about the personalities behind your favorite books? Victoria Danann's new podcast with Riley J. Ford has an incredible lineup of authors booked through the spring. No question is out of bounds. Check it out!

THIS WEEK'S BEST SELLING AUTHOR...Michelle M. Pillow!

New York Times (#8) & USA Today Bestselling AuthorAuthor of All Things Romance

As long as she can remember, Michelle has had a strange fascination with anything supernatural and sci-fi. After discovering historical romance novels, it was only natural that the supernatural and love/romance elements should someday meet in her wonderland of a brain. She's glad they did for their children have been pouring onto the computer screen ever since.

Michelle loves to travel and try new things, whether it's a paranormal investigation of an old Vaudeville Theatre or climbing Mayan temples in Belize. She's addicted to movies and used to drive her mother crazy while quoting random scenes with her brother. Though it has yet to happen, her dream is to be a zombie in a horror movie. (She came close as a refugee extra on SyFy's Z Nation, airing Fall 2016!)

For the most part she can be found writing in her office with a cup of coffee in pajama pants.

Come say hello! I love talking with readers on social media!

Bestselling series: Dragon Lords (dragon-shifters), Lords of the Var (cat-shifters), Warlocks MacGregor (contemporary-set Scottish magic), Lords of the Abyss (merfolk), and more...

Proof of Michelle M. Pillow's NY Times & USA Today listings are provided here.

Listen on Itunes (Subscribe so you never miss an episode! It’s FREE!)

Wrath of the Ancients Cover Reveal

WRATH OF THE ANCIENTS by Catherine Cavendish Genre: Horror/Suspense
Pub Date: 10/24/2017


DESTINY IN DEATH
Egypt, 1908Eminent archeologist Dr. Emeryk Quintillus has unearthed the burial chamber of Cleopatra. But this tomb raider’s obsession with the Queen of the Nile has nothing to do with preserving history. Stealing sacred and priceless relics, he murders his expedition crew, and flees—escaping the quake that swallows the site beneath the desert sands . . .Vienna, 1913Young widow Adeline Ogilvy has accepted employment at the mansion of Dr. Quintillus, transcribing the late professor’s memoirs. Within the pages of his journals, she discovers the ravings of a madman convinced he possessed the ability to reincarnate Cleopatra. Within the walls of his home, she is assailed by unexplained phenomena: strange sounds, shadowy figures, and apparitions of hieroglyphics.Something pursued Dr. Quintillus from Egypt. Something dark, something hungry. Something tied to the fate and future of Adeline Ogilvy . . .
Amazon * B&N * GooglePlay * Kobo * Apple

Following a varied career in sales, advertising and career guidance, Catherine Cavendish is now the full-time author of a number of paranormal, ghostly and Gothic horror novels, novellas and short stories. She was the 2013 joint winner of the Samhain Gothic Horror Anthology Competition, with Linden Manor, which was featured in the anthology What Waits in the Shadows. Cat’s novels include The Pendle Curse, Saving Grace Devine, and Dark Avenging Angel. She lives with her long-suffering husband and black (trainee) cat. They divide their time between Liverpool and a 260-year-old haunted apartment in North Wales.
Website  

Guest Author, Kev Heritage

Meet my guest today from far off England. I met Kev on Twitter. He writes science fiction and fantasy and has had trouble settling on a career. If you like what you read, please comment. Remember each comment enters you to win a signed copy of The Bull Riding Witch when it is released or a $25 Amazon gift card.

When Kev isn’t penning difficult, third person descriptions of himself for on and off-line publicationsKev has worked as a driver's mate, factory gateman, barman, labourer, telesales operative, sales assistant, warehouseman, Student Union President, university IT helpdesk guy, British Rail signal software designer, premiership football website designer, mobile banking content team lead, gigging musician, graphic designer, stand-up comedian, sound engineer, improv artist, magazine editor and web journo. Although he doesn't like to talk about it.
He was born in the UK in the previous century. Originally from the picturesque county of Derbyshire, Kev now lives in the seaside town of Brighton. He is a Twitter aficionado, tea drinker and part-time stand-up comedian.

Interview
1.      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?I’m a ‘pantster’! Although it’s not something I mention at parties due to all the strange looks.
My technique—a laughingly inaccurate term—is the mental equivalent of waking up with a vague feeling of wanting to go somewhere but without any clue of an actual destination, how I’m going to get there (if I’m going to get there), how long it will take or whom I’m going take with me on the way.
There’s lots of other metaphors. And they all sound the same. It’s the most frustrating process which relies on my mind making connections between seemingly random events, characters and plot points. Usually with a few deaths thrown in for good measure. Add the fact that I write supposedly ‘well-crafted mysteries’ and the process becomes a hell of my own making.
The actual process?
I come up with a mystery without knowing what the solution is. I have a few islands to aim for. I start with a bang, usually with some cool action and some other ideas about set-pieces – more cool action scenes—and off I go.
During this process, I’ll meet characters, and it’s them who shape everything. I name them using an alphabetic list using everyday names like Arthur, Bill, Dave, Ada, Bella, Claire. This stops me wasting time thinking of cool names that may not suit the character before I’ve discovered who they are.
The rest is seeing where I go and hoping that the mystery will reveal itself. Yes. I use hope!
For instance, writing my space murder mystery, Vatic (calling it a ‘murder mystery’ is a vast understatement), my hero was constantly frustrated by how nothing made any sense. But that wasn’t him! It was me, voicing my own perplexed frustration on the written page.
So why do I put myself through this?
It’s for those moments when I make the connections, when out of nowhere I find a unifying thread that brings everything in the mystery together. A kind of lying in the bath Eureka moment.
2.     Do you think people have misconceptions about the speculative fiction? Why do you think it is a worthwhile genre?I suppose some people prefer the real world to be re-enforced in their reading. Maybe they want something safer and set within recognizable boundaries. I don’t like boundaries. Never did. I read my first sci-fi at age twelve and—it was mind-blowing. A very personal experience. I was a closed-off child who found making friends difficult (nothing’s changed, haha). Sci-fi and fantasy was a wonderful escape from the real world that I couldn’t really get along with. For me, books were all I needed.Anyone who reads my novels will immediately understand the concepts I’m working with. Lust, death, power etc. My puzzles happen to be in space—this is because out of all the many genres, science fiction is the most imaginative genre, and it gives scope to my expansive imagination.3.     Could you tell us a bit about your most recent book?It’s called Quick-Kill and the Galactic Secret Service. And it’s not a mystery! Hurrah! Although there are some mystery elements that cropped up during writing, which are left unresolved—meaning that if the novella goes down well, there’s scope for sequels. And besides, I couldn’t help myself.I wanted to write a bubble-gum sci-fi. Something a little cheesy. Something fast-paced, tongue in cheek. And a short. A little holiday away from another more serious project I’d been sweating over. It turned into an assassin story starring the eponymous Quick-Kill Jane. Written in first-person present, Jane’s character arrived almost immediately. Her voice is the one that drives the novel. It was a real, sit down and let Jane do her stuff kind of thing—and she didn’t let me down. A real joy to write—and even I was shocked by the ending. That pantster vibe again.The novel starts off on a backwater planet in the backend of nowhere, with Jane plying her trade as an assassin and enjoying every moment of it. But things don’t go the way she expected. Haha. Leading to a series of events that even Jane, with all her driven, borderline genius capabilities, cannot escape from.Here’s a snippet… Amsterdam City is ahead, silhouetted against the dark night sky and lit up like an electric red thistle. The lower gravity means that it boasts some of the tallest high-rises and skyscrapers in this forgotten solar system. But the money has long-gone, leaving decades ago to invest itself in the ‘next big thing’—which happened to be space habitats. Amsterdam is Plenty’s first and only city, its buildings mimicking the red of the surrounding landscape. The conurbation was once considered a marvel. But now? It’s nothing more than a crumbling prison, home to thirty or so million people wishing they were someplace else. No towns, no resorts… nothing. Just a few outlying industrial farms and the spaceport. The locals—who I do not count myself a member of—call it the Forgotten City. And I can’t wait to put it out of my memory.I enter via the ring road, taking the turnoff that brings me outside Angie’s apartment. At this time of night there’s little traffic. I cast my eyes up to Angie’s windows. The lights are off and alarm bells start ringing. She should be waiting for me, all dolled up and a meal prepared. A celebration. Tonight, of all nights, she’d be there with the lights on. And she ain’t the type to throw a surprise party. Besides, she’s like me when it comes to friends… she can’t see the point. That’s why we get on so well. That, and our disinclination towards men.The foyer is an oasis of light on the dark street. Just inside I spot Joe, the robo-doorman. He’s seen better days. His once colourful costume is faded, as is his absurd top hat. I push open the doors and head for the elevator. The metallic face inclines towards me. The eyes sunken and slightly sad. “Are you here to see Miss Angie?” he asks in servile bass tones. I see the gun in his hand long before he can raise it against me.I snap out my laser and play the beam over his face, which collapses in on itself. The cooked bio-circuitry smells like a pie in the oven. Which reminds me… I’m hungry. Whoever’s upstairs waiting for me hoped Joe would to do their work for them.Mistake.I flick the laser’s beam over the rest of Joe’s twitching artificial body. He collapses into nothing more than a few whirring, metal cogs and smoking servitor modules. I never did like the condescending bastard. Good riddance. If I had my way, I’d melt all these robotic half-breeds to glass and laugh while I did it.My next action is easy. I get in the elevator and arrive on Angie’s floor a few seconds later. I step out, make my way to her apartment and knock. I shout, “Honey, I’m home!” and sidestep a hail of bullets that turn the door into plastic shreds.I power up the laser again and play it at head-height across the wall. It punches through the extruded pseudo-cement like, well, like a high-powered industrial laser through a cheaply-manufactured living module. I look into the smoking ruins of the room. Angie is tied up in a chair, her hair singed from where the laser caught it. Good girl, she’ll survive. Shame about her apartment. I guess I won’t be eating anytime soon. For my attacker, it’s another story. He lies on the floor, his head a burnt mess. Nice.
4.     What is the biggest surprise that you experienced after becoming a writer?For me it’s the writing itself. The ideas that emerge from writing. That I can create something from nothing just by tapping plastic. And (trying not to be self-reverential) I’m sometimes truly amazed at the finished product. At what I’ve achieved. I suppose to put it a single statement… I’m surprised by the magic of it.5.     Titles have always been extremely difficult for me. How do you come up with yours?I have only one stipulation for a book title, and that there is no other book title like it out there. It must standalone in a Google/Amazon search. Second to that is that there is no major product, band or brand that shares the same name.Book titles either come fully formed like Vatic or Blue Into The Rip, or I agonize over them for weeks on end. Sometimes over-thinking—like I did with The IronScythe Sagas and ‘Quick-kill and the Galactic Secret Service’. I must have had about ten different names for my latest novella. The story wrote itself, but the title didn’t. It all revolved around the name of my main character. She started off as ‘Deadly Jane’ and became ‘Dead-Eye Jane’, Red-Eyed Jane’, ‘Can’t Kill Jane’. It went through a series of names to do with colours. What a pain. I even went onto an online random assassin name picker for fantasy games. Nightmare. In the end, I found I liked the two ‘k’s in the centre of Quick-kill. That, and a relatively empty Google search for the same name, made me just give in and go with it.  It’s grown on me, although it jarred for a few days.6.     What is your favorite writing tip or quote?‘A writer writes’ – not sure who said that. Did anybody? I say it a lot to myself. I remember when I used to talk about writing rather than actually writing. But it’s a true adage. If we don’t write, we ain’t writers. I write for at least four hours every day. The hours increasing over time as I’ve slowly overcome the dreaded ‘procrastination’.7.     Tell us a little about your plans for the future.  Do you have any other books in the works?I’m presently writing Vatic 2 – not sure of the title yet. But it’s early days in the first draft but something will suggest itself. It will need to be a single word preferably with two syllables. Vatic is already on his way to solve another messed up space mystery… Hoorah! Your favourite ‘Skilled’ is trapped on a berserk spaceship and in a mean, mean mood about it, so don’t get in his way!My Sequel to Blue Into The Rip – Blue Into The Moon is presently at the ‘aaaaargh!’ stage. That’s just how I feel about it at the moment. But it’s near done.So what does Blue get up to in part two? Well, he goes to the Moon for starters. There’s murder, a Tourney and an asteroid made out of sapphire. But the big thing is his first kiss! Yeah. It’s all happening to Blue in Phase two of cadet training.In the next month or two, I have a story out in a Samuel Peralta anthology, Chronicle Worlds: Drifting isle. My first foray in steampunk. My story is of course a mystery! What else could it be? Very noirish. Called: Murder, Lies and No Goodbyes. No release date for this just yet. But I’ll let you all know. If Kev's interested you, his book can be purchased below, and remember to comment.

The Fortune Teller's Secret: Boor Tour and Giveaway

The Fortune Teller's SecretA Cavendish Brown Paranormal Mystery Book 2by Ron D. VoigtsGenre: Paranormal Mystery
A dead man on a Ferris wheel and a cold-case murder take Cavendish Brown into a world of carnival freaks, ghosts, and killers.
The annual carnival comes to Maiden Falls, a small town in the West Virginia Mountains, but everything is not merry.
The ghost of a woman appears to Cavendish Brown, a carnival worker lies dead aboard a car on the Ferris wheel, and a bullied teenager plots to kill people at the carnival with a homemade bomb. More complications arise. Cavendish again butts heads with the local sheriff, Clinton Pike.Marbella Wellingway, owner of the newspaper where Cavendish works, receives a visit from the Angel of Death. And a Fortune Teller at the carnival knows something that could forever change Cavendish’s life.With the aid of Jane, a disturbed psychic, and Alexandra, a Goth witch, he must find the killer, help the mystery woman, and risk his life to prevent more deaths.
Goodreads * Amazon * Smashwords * Kobo


The Witch's Daughter
A Cavndish Brown Paranormal Mystery Book 1
Investigative reporter and recent widower, Cavendish Brown, is unemployed and floundering. Coerced into returning to his childhood home by the town's eccentric matriarch, Cavendish finds himself involved in murder, deceit, and a not-so-subtle attempt at matchmaking. Joined by Jane, a disturbed psychic, and Alexandra, a young Goth woman with uncanny abilities, they follow leads into the hills of West Virginia to catch the killer. A sheriff who shoots first and asks questions later makes solving the case difficult for the trio. Adding further complications is an ex-girlfriend with a mob hitman on her trail who seeks Cavendish’s help. Immersed in a never-ending spiral of clues and secrets, he must unlock the darkness that surrounds the enigmatic Jane, stay ahead of the law, and come to terms with his own grief.Goodreads * Amazon * Smashwords * Kobo

Ron D. Voigts lives in Raleigh, North Carolina and sometimes somewhere else. When back in Raleigh, he enjoys time with his family, watches old movies and shoots lots of pool. He has his own private writer’s retreat in La Vale, MD where he spends lots of time working on his next novel while enjoying the mountains and eating ice cream.Website * Facebook * Twitter * Amazon * Goodreads
From the darkness came a whisper.“Help me.”I heard the woman’s voice clearly. Yet everywhere was black. A void. Impenetrable and empty.“Help me, please.”Sounds beyond the woman’s plea filled the vacuum. Somewhere a happy tune played on a pipe organ, the music dancing in the wind, a prelude to a circus parade with clowns and acrobats and a dancing bear. Children and adults laughed and cheered. Wonderful scents lingered in the air. Sweet cotton candy and popcorn elicited memories of happy times.Something else filled the atmosphere. The smells of dampness and dirt mingled, forcing back the joy. Decaying leaves and rot stung my nose. I retched at the stench of death.Disjointed images, fuzzy around the edges, traveled toward me then fell away into nothingness. A farm tractor. A wood rail fence. And a sign, blurred except for the words “GATE MUST BE KEPT CLOSED.”With the snap, the darkness returned.In the black, a speck of light grew into an image, taking form and shape. A woman stood in front of me, dressed gaily in a short ruffled pink skirt below a yellow long-sleeve shirt with triangles of black print. Leg warmers like a dancer might wear were bunched around her ankles. A blue ribbon tied in a bow kept back wild, unruly hair.Her wide blue eyes stared at me, unblinking. Her lips, painted bright red, pursed.“Help me.”A dark wet spot appeared in her brown hair on the left side of her head, growing like a stain. Blood trickled from the edge of her ear and to her throat. Her head twisted, and a deep gash formed on its side.She stretched out her arms as if crucified and fell backward in slow motion, tumbling away, then crashing with a deep thud. Her head struck the earth and the blue ribbon came loose. She twisted at an impossible angle, arms and legs bent like a broken doll.A man in a denim jacket hovered above her, clutching a rock. He stared at the blood covering his hand. A shiver passed through him. He released the rock, letting it vanish into the shadows that surrounded everything.Another man with his back toward me sauntered up to the woman and stopped at her feet. He wore a white T-shirt with a cigarette pack rolled into the sleeve. He scratched the back of his head, mussing his hair. “What did you do, Johnny boy?”“I killed her!” The man in denim fell to his knees.The one in the T-shirt took a drag on a cigarette and tossed it aside. “I’ll take care of things.”Shadows swelled around them and eclipsed everything except the woman’s face. Her eyes opened. Her lips parted. The whisper came once more. “Please, help me.”“No, no.” I wanted to run and flee this place of death, to be away from these evil men. “No.”


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The Woodman Book Tour & Giveaway

The Roads of HellThe Woodman, Book 1By G.H. BrightGenre: Post Apocalyptic, Dystopian, SciFi POST APOCALYPTIC, yet so much more! "Modified Ebola has decimated the globe, handfuls of survivors eke out an existence whilst others are intent on building from the ashes a world of unimaginable pain and horror. The Woodman fights to keep the world from tipping completely over the edge whilst battling his own demons. "Imagine a world where nothing is easy. No electricity, electronic communications fuel or running water. Imagine that world came so fast there was nothing you could do about it. No preparation, no stockpiling of goods. One day you flick a switch and a fire comes on, the next day you need to learn to make fire to get warm and keep animals away.No law, no order, survival of the fittest is the name of the game. From seven billion human beings to a few million spread out across the globe almost overnight.Ebola has attacked the human race, virtually wiping it from the face of the planet. For those who survived, the struggle is just beginning and for some the nightmare is just starting.A madman, now free of prison hospital builds an army and marches on Coast Town with the intent of taking for his own ends. Coast Town is a haven on the south coast of England, a refuse for the few survivors to gather and start again. Three years on from the dark day when Ebola first struck, the people face another challenge, this one perhaps all the more frightening because it might not kill you, just enslave.Duke Woods, The Woodman, stands in the way of the madman. Duke has the power to stop him and a score to settle, too. With the help of another man, a new friend, they take the battle to the madman known as The Black Pope.Will Duke survive?Can The Black Pope be beaten?Will the Ebola virus, known to all as The Death, return?As Duke's past comes back to haunt him so the battle for life takes off, with not only his life in the balance but that of Coast Town,too.CONTAINS CONTENT SOME READERS MIGHT FIND DISTURBING.Goodreads * Amazon
The Fires of HellThe Woodman Book 2 This second instalment starts six weeks after Book one, the Roads of Hell, finished.The reluctant hero in the making, Duke Woods, The Woodman, has contracted Ebola, otherwise known simply as “The Death”. The Black Pope is still alive and kicking, unknown to most, and The Woodman has a new friend.Michelle, a six-year-old girl remains at his side watching and waiting whilst The Death ravages his body. Hannah, the love of his life is not allowed near them in case she and the child she carries become infected and the communities, at the news of his contagion, go into lock-down.Hannah is nearly six months pregnant, Sue is seven months into her pregnancy, and several other women are carrying babies too. As Duke recovers, he finds the Army is still in place and helping everyone it can, and the Elders are still unable to achieve even the simplest of things. Coast Town looks to be thriving again with the new influx of people but as always, trouble is just around the corner and new horror surfaces.Just when things looks good for the survivor’s, just as they begin to grasp skills forgotten, new evils and hard times rush to compound issues and make life a far greater struggle than it already was. The Death wiped out 90% of Mankind; illness and disease took even more. Those that lived through it, instead of banding together, seem unable to change their ways and people find they still have to fight Mankind’s greatest enemy, Mankind itself. Goodreads * Amazon
The Gates of HellThe Woodman Book 3 This instalment begins six hours after Duke Woods, AKA The Woodman, has decided he must leave Coast Town.If he leaves, they stand a chance of negotiation with the small army coming their way and he gets to go home to his family. If he stays, the army will want his head. He has to try and flee, regardless of how it looks to others.The 'reluctant hero in the making', fights his way out with bow and arrow, and arrives home only to find his family in mortal danger. Then, in a twist of fate; Duke is taken prisoner and escorted to Dover Castle. There he has, under threat of death, to fight for his freedom and his sanity as the true horrors of a madman come to light. Seth Windsor is insane and out for blood, a truly bad concoction, and he will only be happy when Duke is forced to fight for his life.Sue goes to other lands to start a new and joyful life whilst Coast Town burns; only to find the sweet talking man was really a serpent in disguise.Duke fights evil time and again, fashioning himself unwittingly into a hero regardless of his wish to not be. Years of peace follow, communities come together, trade together and grow, and a network of towns and villages live in harmony with the people of the woods. Harmony that is, until evil rears its ugly head once more in the form of feral kids linked to Seth Windsor. The Death is still out there, perhaps it always will be, and evil men still rampage across the lands too. The peace is shattered by these feral kids and a new terror from the north. Will peace ever really come to The Woodman?Goodreads * Amazon
Hell on EarthThe Woodman Book 4 Duke and Coast Town face a new challenge as the horror from the north, having taken the Oxford Crew, move southward looking for The Woodman. Duke attempts to build an army and defend. Kufuo is still missing, on an adventure of his own trying to trace his roots and all the time ships from the new world head toward them for confrontation. Senator Horst is not all he seems to be and speaks with a serpents tongue. Marine Cobb goes AWOL and tells Duke what he already suspected, that Horst let the Ebola virus loose in the first place. Fighting for his life and the lives of those he loves, Duke must defeat the terror from the north and deal with Senator Horst whilst keeping his people together. This fourth and final instalment gives the answers to who the people were that died at the start of book one, explains who unleashed the virus, modified it and why. Duke comes close to death, Sue at last finds happiness and Duke, Gould and Troy find out who lives on the forbidden isle. This is the last in the on-going series, however, the saga continues with books 5 and six. Goodreads * Amazon
All Hell Broke LooseThe Woodman Book 5 Modified Ebola was created to wipe out the masses and cut down the numbers of humans on planet Earth. Three differing strains - due to natural mutation and the meddling of the mega-rich - has created a bleak world for those lucky enough to survive. This is book five in the saga and, whereas you might not have read books one - four, you can pick it up by jumping right in here. Life is peaceful once more, the newcomers are getting used to this way of life in southern England and Duke Woods is a dad again. Evil, however comes from across the Channel and threatens the very existence he has fought so hard to build. If the virus wasn't bad enough this new terror rips the heart out of not just Coast Town but The Woodman too as this battle becomes personal and painful.Goodreads * Amazon

Hell Hath No FuryThe Woodman Book 6 Three differing factions head for Duke’s Lands. All have different agendas, one wants to live in peace and be friends whilst another is happy to die for the cause just so long as The Woodman dies too, and the third faction – an eight hundred strong army – wishes for nothing more than total domination. Attacked on different fronts, abandoned by The West and with his lands diminishing rapidly, Duke Woods has the fight of his life on his hands. It is a fight that will cost dearly, many people will die in battle and the return of The Death will take its share too. Stretched to the limits of manpower and with the weather against them, the Marines and Fighting Men stand side by side with The Woodman and family in a fight to the death to save Coast Town. This is a win or lose-it- all battle to the death. Contains graphic violence and sexual content, not for the squeamish.Goodreads * Amazon

I live on the South coast of England, Sussex to be exact, but I was born in Hampshire. When not writing I Instruct motor vehicle studies, including computer diagnosis & diagnostics on modern systems. I love the beach, being social, walking the beach/woods and family life (not in that order) and real ale.The Woodman saga - book one written in 2000 - is set in a world where modified Ebola has decimated human life as we know it. Duke Woods fights to bring peace and stability to life again but also has to fight his demons to do so.A cross between Mad Max meets Game of Thrones, meets Contagion meets Robin Hood, this is the story of a modern day hero trying to do the best for everyone and putting himself in the line of fire to do it.Website * Facebook * Smashwords * Google+ * Goodreads * Amazon * Pinterest
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A Human Element Book Blast

A Human Elementby Donna Galanti
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GENRE: Paranormal Suspense
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BLURB:
Evil comes in many forms…  One by one, Laura Armstrong’s friends and adoptive family members are being murdered, and despite her unique healing powers, she can do nothing to stop it. The savage killer haunts her dreams, tormenting her with the promise that she is next. Determined to find the killer, she follows her visions to the site of a crashed meteorite in her hometown. There, she meets Ben Fieldstone, who seeks answers about his parents’ death the night the meteorite struck. In a race to stop a madman, they unravel a frightening secret that binds them together. But the killer’s desire to destroy Laura face-to-face leads to a showdown that puts Laura and Ben’s emotional relationship and Laura’s pure spirit to the test. With the killer closing in, Laura discovers her destiny is linked to his, and she has two choices—redeem him or kill him.

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EXCERPT:
“I am not here to hurt you,” the man said when Ben shrunk into the rock. “I’m going to cut the ropes.”
In a few swift movements he slit the ropes binding Ben, who staggered back. The man caught him and held him up, then ripped off the duct tape.
“Who are you?” Ben’s body trembled from the rush of fear and a fierce headache pounded in his temple.
The man didn’t answer. He bent over one of the dead Samoans and pulled out a wallet. He looked inside and threw it at Ben. “It’s yours.” Then the man led him by the arm down the overgrown road where he handed Ben his clothes from the brush.
“Come on,” the man said. Ben looked back at the dead men sprawled face down. They oozed like two fat walruses sunning themselves in the moonlight. “Don’t worry about them. I’ll dump them later, somewhere they’ll never be found.”
In a daze, Ben followed his savior up the rough road, stumbling behind him in the dim moonlight.
“I’ll take you back to base and you’re on your own,” the man said once they reached his car, parked off the main road. “Don’t speak of this to anyone. Understand?”
Ben nodded and climbed in the car. He looked over at the stranger in black who had saved him. His mammoth biceps flexed as he drove, hunched over the wheel. Ben stared at him, and then a memory flickered. “Why are you following me? Why save me?”
“I’m an interested party. Leave it at that.”
“I can’t. I would have died up there for sure.”
The man didn’t respond.
“Thank you.”
The man looked at Ben. His green eyes glowed in the moonlight that filtered into the car.
“Someday you might not thank me. Someday you might not survive.”

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:


Donna Galanti is the author of the paranormal suspense Element Trilogy (Imajin Books -http://www.imajinbooks.com/ )  and the children’s fantasy adventure Joshua and The Lightning Road series (Month9Books -http://www.month9books.com/ ). Donna is a contributing editor for International Thriller Writers the Big Thrill (http://www.thebigthrill.org/) - magazine and blogs with other middle grade authors at Project Middle Grade Mayhem (http://project-middle-grade-mayhem.bl... Galanti) . She’s lived from England as a child, to Hawaii as a U.S. Navy photographer. Donna enjoys teaching at conferences on the writing craft and marketing and also presenting as a guest author at elementary and middle schools.
Visit her at www.elementtrilogy.com and www.donnagalanti.com.
Connect with Donna:
Website: http://www.elementtrilogy.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheElementTrilogy/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DonnaGalanti
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/donnagalanti/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5767306.Donna_Galanti
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/donnagalanti/
Purchase books 1 and 2 in the Element Trilogy: http://mybook.to/AHumanElement

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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE

Donna will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.


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The Bull Riding Witch Cover and Opening

The cover for The Bull Riding Witch is finally finished. Tell me below what you think.


Reminder, I am giving away two signed print copies and two ebooks of The Bull Riding Witch when it is released. I have added a grand prize of a $25 Amazon gift card. To enter the contest, subscribe to my newsletter (see the sidebar) or comment on any of the posts in my blog. Each comment equals one entry, and you can enter as many times as you like.

On Friday's blog, I discussed openings, so I thought I'd give you the opening of The Bull Riding Witch today.

I woke with my head pounding and my tongue coated with the fur balls of ten thousand cats. I nearly gagged at the stench that filled the air, a scent that combined the reek of inside of a knight’s armor after jousting with the odor of rotting flesh.
Confused, I examined my surroundings. Hung on the wall facing me was a portrait of a huge bull with its head down and its heels kicked high into the air. Incredibly, a man, hanging onto a rope with only one hand, sat on the bull’s back. Why would anyone ride a bull? Bulls were dangerous and impossible to control.
Piled high on the bedside table were plates covered with the remains of several meals, bowls with a few dregs of sour milk, and empty bottles. The sheet I lay on was stained with various substances I didn’t want to identify. Where was I? This was certainly no place worthy of me, the crown princess. Maybe I had somehow ended in the servants’ quarters, although I couldn’t imagine how.
I tried to sit up, and my head felt as if it were going to split in two. I groaned, and the sound was deep and masculine. What the . . .? I looked down at my arms. They were muscular and covered with hair. I grabbed my naked chest. My breasts were entirely flat, and my chest was covered with thick, coarse hair. When I rubbed my hand across my face, I felt thick stubble. I looked down at the short clothes, which were the only thing I was wearing; there was a bulge that just shouldn’t have been there. I lifted the waistband and peeked. Dear gods, how had I gotten one of those? I poked it with my finger, and it twitched. I snapped the waistband closed and jumped away, but I couldn’t get away from the body I was wearing.
My breath came in dizzying gasps, and my pulse raced. This was just a dream, I told myself. It couldn’t be real.
From the bed, I saw a small, closetlike room with a mirror on the wall. With my skull threatening to split apart, I stumbled out of bed and tripped over piles of dirty clothes that covered the floor. I pushed through them to the other room. In a mirror stained with water spots, a man stared back at me. Medium-height, broad shoulders, shoulder-length brown hair with brown eyes to match. A scar near the right eyebrow enhanced rather than detracted from the rugged good looks. It was a face that would have drawn a second glance even from a princess and one that would have sent my father calling for the guards.
But it wasn’t mine. I grabbed the filthy porcelain basin underneath the mirror. How had this happened? Had I gone mad? “Think, Daulphina,” I told myself. “There has to be a logical explanation.”

Tell me what you think. Have I followed my own rules?

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.

Paranormal Podcast Interview

Ever wondered about the personalities behind your favorite books? Victoria Danann's new podcast with Riley J. Ford has an incredible lineup of authors booked through the spring. No question is out of bounds. Check it out!

THIS WEEK'S BEST SELLING AUTHOR...TRAVIS LUEDKE!


Travis Luedke is a NY Times & USA Today bestselling author of urban fantasy, science fiction, and paranormal romance, best known for his violently sexy NIGHTLIFE SERIES. Find Travis catching a third degree sunburn with his wife and children in San Antonio, Texas, while plotting world domination through erotic paranormal badassery.

Most famous for his Nightlife Series novels, Travis lives vicariously through his writings. He invites you to enjoy his macabre flights of fancy, but be warned: The Nightlife Series is violent, sexy, and occasionally violently sexy.


Listen on Itunes (Subscribe so you never miss an episode! It’s FREE!)

Guest Author, Charles McDonald

Welcome my guest author today, Charles McDonald, who brings us the flavor of Robert Jordan.
Charles W. McDonald Jr. was born in Oklahoma City, raised in Norman, Oklahoma, and is a graduate of the University of Oklahoma with a BBA in Management Information Systems and a Minor in Economics.  He also has a background in Aerospace Engineering and High Availability Systems Engineering.  Honorably discharged from the United States Air Force Reserves, he also has a background in the armed forces.  He lives with his wife, Brandy L. McDonald, in Roanoke, TX.

In the summer of 1995, Charles read every available book on the Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan in a couple of weeks and later that same July awoke in the middle of the night from an incredibly immersive dream.  Charles began writing, by hand, everything he could remember from that dream which became the outline for the story of A Throne of Souls.  Very shortly afterwards, Charles wrote Robert Jordan directly, looking for advice and inspiration for his own work, and Robert Jordan personally responded in a three-page letter, encouraging Charles to tell his story in his way, in his voice, and in his time.  The completion of A Throne of Souls is a deeply personal mission for Charles to thank the spirit of Robert Jordan.
InterviewTell us a little about yourself? I’m a very versatile, broadly-talented, pretty intense guy—very opinionated, organized and structured with a drive that is palpable.  No one ever had to coach or encourage me to go do something.  I’m a do-it-yourself doer and a perfectionist.  I can be a little tough to work with when it comes to writing because I expect the best from anyone affiliated with my work.  If it’s got my name on it, it has to be right and that means I expect the very best from them and I won’t settle for less.What made you want to become a writer?  I’ve had this story in my head that just won’t go away.  It’s like an itch that only gets scratched when I write.  I’ve heard writers don’t write because they want to.  They write because they need to—it’s just who they are inside.What are your biggest literary influences? Favorite authors and why?  Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson, James Rollins, Tom Clancy.If you could have written any other book by any other author, what would it be, and why?  I’ll never take credit for anyone else’s work.  That’s just not my style.  Not even hypothetically.  My style is so radically different from others, it’s not really comparable.  People who read A Throne of Soulswill see.  I’ve got multiple critic reviews that essentially say they’ve never read anything like it before both from a story perspective and a story-telling perspective.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?  A bit of both.  I’ll write stream-of-consciousness style, but only after making the plan and outline.  I have an eight-foot long whiteboard in my office I use all the time to illustrate the plot’s many layers.  It looks like a CSI crime investigation with arrows going all over the place. JDo you think people have misconceptions about the speculative fiction? Why do you think it is a worthwhile genre?  I do and rightfully so.  Most, but not all, have character development but the characters still don’t jump off the page as “Holy crap!  That felt real!”  People have told me that they felt as if they “rediscovered” what fantasy and what literature could be when they read A Kingdom Forgotten (Book 1 of A Throne of Souls).  They said it felt very real to them and they felt connected to the characters.Could you tell us a bit about your most recent book?  Well, A Kingdom Forgottencould be related to Episode 4 of Star Wars in that it throws you right into the action, kinda starting in the middle of the story, but at a critical point in the story.  This story isn’t told like others.  It’s completely nonlinear.  I don’t tell what happens in the past by flashbacks—generally speaking—although I think you’ll find two legitimate flashbacks in book 1.  I do it by narrating the past events as if they’re happening now and I’ll usually group them together in such a way that it makes sense to the reader.  For example, maybe we’re getting ready to cover a thread in the storyline’s present day, but before we do, I’ll give backstory and character development with an event from the past that relates to the thread you’re about to read or just read.  I’ll do something similar for near future timelines.  The best way to think of A Kingdom Forgotten is that it’s general theme is the what and the when.  Black Mirrors of the Soul (Book 2 coming in April) has a general them of who and why and is LOADED with character development.  It delivers a gut-level connection with the reader that will ‘scatter their emotions all over the room’ according to my proofreader.  It’s both terrifying and thrilling and it has a shocking conclusion.  One thing about my books is that they are hard to predict.  The plot is so layered and there’s just so much going on, it’s going to challenge your critical thinking.  These books are not a light read, but I guarantee you’ve never read anything like them before.What gives you inspiration for your book?  A dream I started with in July 1995.  Today, I’d say I feel the most inspired as I go walking.Of all the characters you have created, which is your favorite and why?  Well, that’s a multi-response question.  Damon I’m most familiar with, though least like as a person.  Illirian Starfire is always on my mind—I just can’t get her out of my head.  Michael Anthony Day is the one I aspired to be and the only altruistic character in my story.What is the biggest surprise that you experienced after becoming a writer?  That moment when people start talking about your books and your characters and how much they loved them, felt they were real, wanted to be like them, wanted to understand them, etc.  When you go into forums and see what people are saying about your story for the first time, it’s very surreal. What was the hardest part of writing your book?  The artwork!  SAWEEET JESUS—the artwork!  My books require a ton of it, and it’s not simple cartoon art or whatever.  It’s illustrative-realism-level quality art.  It takes about 6-8 months per book just to get the artwork across the finish line.  It only takes me about 12 weeks to write a 165,000-word novel.  Yeah, I can write kinda fast. JWhat else would you like readers to know about you or your work?  It’s not just fantasy.  It’s an all-encompassing cerebral thriller.  I’m going to paraphrase on of ‘anamcara’ who said, “Wow! The sample I've read...not even sure where to classify it! Fantasy? Check. Science Fiction? Check. Thriller? Check again. This story sounds so insanely deep, complex and intriguing that I can't wait to get my hands on it to read!”  It covers a lot of ground from Philosophy, Religion, Physics, Meta-Physics, Biology, Science/Technology/Engineering/Math (STEM), History, etc.  I mean you name it, this story covers a LOT of ground and you’re going to learn a lot and be highly entertained while doing so.  You’re also going to be both challenged and rewarded when you succeed in those challenges.  I drop so many clues all over the place and use disinformation as well, but when you figure something out, you’re like, ‘ah-hah!’  And that moment opens a whole new understanding of another layer in the story that now makes complete sense to you. Titles have always been extremely difficult for me. How do you come up with yours?  They just come easy to me based on the theme of the book.  I mean, you can see I’ve already named all five books in the series and I can almost guarantee you none of those future book names will change.  Why?  Because, it describes the biggest theme that book has a job to describe.What is your favorite writing tip or quote?  Write your ideas down immediately—as soon as they happen—or they’re gone.  That’s a fact.  You’d be surprised at how high a ratio of those writing ideas I actually put into the story. Tell us a little about your plans for the future.  Do you have any other books in the works?  I’m currently working on all the books in the series, A Throne of Souls:Book 2 (Black Mirrors of the Soul) – April 2017Book 3 (The Fall of Hate) – Dec 2017 at the earliestBook 4 (The Rise of Hope) – Fall 2018Book 5 (A Throne of Souls) – 2019 (You’d be surprised how much of this one is already done)Where can we find you online? Blog: www.athroneofsouls.com/blog Website: www.athroneofsouls.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/throneofsoulsTwitter: www.twitter.com/athroneofsouls     Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Charles-McDonald-Jr./e/B01MDPEUAW/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0ExcerptA Kingdom Forgotten (Book 1 of A Throne of Souls) – Chapter 12: Banthis:“(Physical Cave Entrance to The World Below and Between, Kaleion, Recent History)Dawn still a couple of hours away, they stood and talked, continuing their conversation from inside—where they first met so many centuries before.  He was still in awe every time he met with her—her dark elven skin perfection incarnate.  She was quite literally the definition of a living Goddess.
Lithe, dark, and beyond beautiful Evanyil stood there basking in moonlight with her radiant platinum hair and unique violet eyes, batting them at the doer of all doer’s.  No one—not in all her lifetimes—could compare to Damon’s ability to get things done.  That made him the only possible candidate for this task—the only one she could trust to get the job done right the first time.  And with this task, there would be no second chances.  They would either all succeed and reap the benefits, or they would all suffer a fate far worse than any death that could possibly be imagined.Damon stood there in his full mage regalia, letting Evanyil caress, or rather pet, the top of his hand as she peered into his black mirrors of the soul.  They were so amazing lit up the way they were in that cool smoky aura backlit by the moonlight.  He was an amazing specimen.  She did love him—truly so.  It wasn’t just physical love, or lust, between them.  It was love of trust, love of reliability, love of dependability, love of so very much history together, and the love of rescuing one another more times than either could count.  They had been a team from the very first moment they met.  They knew each other’s thoughts and could complete each other’s sentences, and they were just opposite enough to attract without driving each other insane.  Well, Evanyil would fit the definition of insanity already—with, or without, Damon.  Even that he loved about her.  She was just sane enough to be surprisingly lucid at times, and just crazy enough to come up with the most brilliant and unconventional thinking that frequently dovetailed perfectly with his order and structure.The vines and dogwood masked the entrance entirely to the untrained eye, but they had been here so many times, they knew right where they were going—physically and otherwise.“Sweetie, I’m not saying it has to be now-now.  I’m saying I know it takes time to plot something of this magnitude, and I’d like to start the planning now,” so unusual coming from her—the realization of planning something like this.  Evanyil was the act first, solve problems-on-the-fly personality.  But, if she, of all people, was realizing the need to plan something like this, then she truly did have an understanding of the consequences at play.He was trying to keep his thoughts focused and ordered as she continued stroking his hand, leaning her perfect body into his as she blinked at him with those magnificent violet eyes of hers.  He knew he wasn’t being used—not really at least.  Was he?  It was the briefest of thoughts crossing across his consciousness as he replied, “Look, I’m just saying my biggest concern has always been about what happens after.  I mean, we’re going to bring enough to this fight, I’m pretty confident we’ll win.  The question is, in the massive power vacuum that follows, who gets what, when, how, where, and why are all extremely important questions that need to be asked and answered before the first spell is cast in this war we’re about to start.  There has to be a viable path to a lasting equilibrium.  That’s all I’m saying.  And forgive me for saying this, but you’re not the ‘share my toys’ type.”Evanyil feigned insult pouting, but she knew where Damon was coming from.  He had a valid point—he always did.  “You’re suggesting a meeting between myself and your wifey.”“I am.”A huff of derision at the thought from Evanyil.  She didn’t hate Banthis.  They had largely stayed out of one another’s way all this time, but Banthis took Damon away from her.  It wasn’t a jealousy thing between Evanyil and Banthis.  More like, Damon and Evanyil were best friends, teammates, traveling companions till the end, and then one day Banthis came in and changed all that.  She detested the change that came with Banthis in Damon’s life more than she detested Banthis herself.  Evanyil knew she wasn’t the marrying type and neither was Damon and yet he’d done it—more than once already.  Their relationship had been violently hot, then cold, then hot, then unbearably distant, then ethereal, then…  The one constant between them was that they could count on one another, particularly when commitments were given.He could see the wheels of chaos turning in the half-psychotic mind of hers, and thought better to interrupt her train of thought before someone got killed—or worse.  “Look, you two need to figure out who gets what when this goes down.  I’ve known you a lot longer than I’ve known her but don’t ask me to choose between you two.  That won’t be good for any of us.”“And what if I am asking you to choose me?”“Evanyil, please don’t.  Please.”A batted eyelash, then a look down at the lush grass beneath them bathed in moonlight as her spiders stood sentry around them made Evanyil consider her options if it came down to it.  “I miss the old us.”A broad smile from Damon—she loved his smile—caused Damon to reminisce.  Thoughts of their first meeting flooded his mind…then their first time together in combat…then all the years she spent with him at his manor.  They covered a lot of ground together—shared tremendous history.  Cupping her magnificent face, he kissed her—really kissed her—like their lives depended on it.  Was that because it did, he wondered.  “If this works, we’ll have all the freedom to be whoever we want, to forge, or reforge, whatever state of relationship we desire.  And, for the record, I miss the old us too.  You mean…,” he paused thinking as a lump formed in his throat, searching for the words, “…more to me than words can describe.  You’re my last real living link to the past—at least that part of my past I remember with fondness.  I adore you, Evanyil.  Please don’t ever change.”It was a strange, and rare moment, seeing a tear streaking down the cheeks of a living Goddess, but she had what she wanted—for now at least.  She had Damon’s commitment to execute the plan that would set them both free.  Though, here with him tonight in this perfect moonlit night, she wanted more.  She wanted a future with Damon…without Banthis.”