Ariella Moon's Blog, page 31
July 14, 2014
Elizabeth Belyeu and Secondhand Shadow
Today the spotlight is on Elizabeth Belyeu and her debut novel, Secondhand Shadow.
Blurb :
It's supposed to be a symbiotic relationship: the Shadow serves and protects the human Lumi, the Lumi feeds and cares for the Shadow. But when Damon’s Lumi died young and severed the bond between them, he declined to go with her like a good little Shadow. Yes, it hurts. Yes, he's cold and hungry all the time. And yes, his own people call him an abomination. But for the first time, Damon's life is his own, and he’s never going back.
Or so he thinks, until he meets Naomi, a pregnant college student… and bonds to her as his new Lumi. Which has never happened to a Shadow before.
Naomi has enough problems on her plate, juggling college and a crappy survival job, preparing for a baby, and getting over her cheating ex-husband. The last thing she needs is a dark, brooding fellow like Damon depending on her physically and emotionally, and hating her for it. But a vigilante among Damon's people has his sights set on Naomi – and they both know Damon is her only chance for survival.
Excerpt : “So, who do I look like?” I said. He jumped, as if he hadn’t expected me to have the power of speech. “What?” “Either I look like someone you never wanted to see again, or I smell bad. Since you got in an elevator with me, I’m going with Option A.” He continued staring a moment, then opened his mouth to speak. And the elevator shuddered to a halt. No.I closed my eyes. No, this cannot be. These things don’t really happen. I leaned my head back against the wall with a thunk. Then, to my own dismay, I started to laugh. “I’m sorry,” I gasped when I saw Damon’s stare turn from mysterious to confused. “It’s just such a cliché. The pregnant lady trapped in the elevator. If I give birth in an elevator—” Confusion became alarm. “Oh, no, I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Still two months to go, thank goodness. It’s just the idea.” I was able to stop laughing after a minute, because it stopped being funny. There was a help button in the wall, which I would be calm enough to push, eventually. But it could be hours before we got out of here. Hours during which I was supposed to be at work. I fumbled my cell phone out of my bookbag. No signal. Damon began to pace, which was a nice trick in an elevator that size, especially when he refused to come anywhere close to me. Yeah, well, I wouldn’t touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole, either. “I can’t be here,” he muttered under his breath, and ran a hand through his hair, which very unexpectedly made my breath catch. So I have a thing for long-haired guys. Why else would I have the Lord of the Rings movies memorized? “Hit the help button,” I said. It was on his side. He paused, looked at the button a moment, then resumed pacing. “You should do it.”Bossy much? I considered suggesting an anatomically unlikely new location for the help button, but then I remembered that just because he hadn’t pulled a knife on me yet didn’t mean he wouldn’t. I stepped toward the help button, wondering what he’d do when I crossed the orbit of his pacing. What he did was stop dead with a sharp breath, back up against the wall, and close his eyes. For the first time, I was truly afraid to turn my back on him. I froze, not breathing, and waited. He kept his eyes closed, breath coming faster, hands half-raised as if to ward me off. They were shaking. Seconds passed. A minute. Maybe more. My fear began to ebb, just a bit, to make room for pity. He was in pain. I had no idea why or how, or what I could do to help, but surely I ought to try. “Damon?” The word was tiny and feather-edged, but it broke something. Suddenly I was pinned between him and the wall, my upraised hands trapped against his chest, too stunned to push him away. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, pressing his face into my hair. “I won’t hurt you. I hate you too much to ever hurt you. I’m sorry.” I felt a hand against my cheek. And I was alone in the elevator.
Author Bio :Elizabeth Belyeu is 29 years old and lives in Alabama, where she supports herself, her cat, and her steadily growing TBR pile as a library assistant. She graduated from Troy University in 2008 with a bachelorʹs in English (Creative Writing minor). This is her first novel, but she has been writing since she could hold a pencil, and plans to continue until she is too senile to type.
Buy Links :AmazonBarnes & Noble
Where to Find Me :My Blog – elizabethbelyeu.wordpress.comFacebook
Blurb :
It's supposed to be a symbiotic relationship: the Shadow serves and protects the human Lumi, the Lumi feeds and cares for the Shadow. But when Damon’s Lumi died young and severed the bond between them, he declined to go with her like a good little Shadow. Yes, it hurts. Yes, he's cold and hungry all the time. And yes, his own people call him an abomination. But for the first time, Damon's life is his own, and he’s never going back.
Or so he thinks, until he meets Naomi, a pregnant college student… and bonds to her as his new Lumi. Which has never happened to a Shadow before.
Naomi has enough problems on her plate, juggling college and a crappy survival job, preparing for a baby, and getting over her cheating ex-husband. The last thing she needs is a dark, brooding fellow like Damon depending on her physically and emotionally, and hating her for it. But a vigilante among Damon's people has his sights set on Naomi – and they both know Damon is her only chance for survival.
Excerpt : “So, who do I look like?” I said. He jumped, as if he hadn’t expected me to have the power of speech. “What?” “Either I look like someone you never wanted to see again, or I smell bad. Since you got in an elevator with me, I’m going with Option A.” He continued staring a moment, then opened his mouth to speak. And the elevator shuddered to a halt. No.I closed my eyes. No, this cannot be. These things don’t really happen. I leaned my head back against the wall with a thunk. Then, to my own dismay, I started to laugh. “I’m sorry,” I gasped when I saw Damon’s stare turn from mysterious to confused. “It’s just such a cliché. The pregnant lady trapped in the elevator. If I give birth in an elevator—” Confusion became alarm. “Oh, no, I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Still two months to go, thank goodness. It’s just the idea.” I was able to stop laughing after a minute, because it stopped being funny. There was a help button in the wall, which I would be calm enough to push, eventually. But it could be hours before we got out of here. Hours during which I was supposed to be at work. I fumbled my cell phone out of my bookbag. No signal. Damon began to pace, which was a nice trick in an elevator that size, especially when he refused to come anywhere close to me. Yeah, well, I wouldn’t touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole, either. “I can’t be here,” he muttered under his breath, and ran a hand through his hair, which very unexpectedly made my breath catch. So I have a thing for long-haired guys. Why else would I have the Lord of the Rings movies memorized? “Hit the help button,” I said. It was on his side. He paused, looked at the button a moment, then resumed pacing. “You should do it.”Bossy much? I considered suggesting an anatomically unlikely new location for the help button, but then I remembered that just because he hadn’t pulled a knife on me yet didn’t mean he wouldn’t. I stepped toward the help button, wondering what he’d do when I crossed the orbit of his pacing. What he did was stop dead with a sharp breath, back up against the wall, and close his eyes. For the first time, I was truly afraid to turn my back on him. I froze, not breathing, and waited. He kept his eyes closed, breath coming faster, hands half-raised as if to ward me off. They were shaking. Seconds passed. A minute. Maybe more. My fear began to ebb, just a bit, to make room for pity. He was in pain. I had no idea why or how, or what I could do to help, but surely I ought to try. “Damon?” The word was tiny and feather-edged, but it broke something. Suddenly I was pinned between him and the wall, my upraised hands trapped against his chest, too stunned to push him away. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, pressing his face into my hair. “I won’t hurt you. I hate you too much to ever hurt you. I’m sorry.” I felt a hand against my cheek. And I was alone in the elevator.
Author Bio :Elizabeth Belyeu is 29 years old and lives in Alabama, where she supports herself, her cat, and her steadily growing TBR pile as a library assistant. She graduated from Troy University in 2008 with a bachelorʹs in English (Creative Writing minor). This is her first novel, but she has been writing since she could hold a pencil, and plans to continue until she is too senile to type.
Buy Links :AmazonBarnes & Noble
Where to Find Me :My Blog – elizabethbelyeu.wordpress.comFacebook
July 10, 2014
Beyond Vica - T.C. Booth on Teens, Love, and Loss
T.C. Booth is my guest host today, writing about loss, teens, the grieving process, and her new book, Beyond Vica. Welcome T.C.!
My young adult novella, Beyond Vica, was released by Astraea Press yesterday. I've always had a passion for helping young people along with writing. The combination of the two was my inspiration for writing this novella.The four most important young people in my life have experienced more than one tragedy that has taken a loved one from them too soon. The latest tragedy occurred after this story was already written and in the process of being published. As a result of this, I 'm now raising two more teens. My family grew and so has the love in my heart.
The most difficult part of this journey was to watch the grief of my two new children. There were nights I wished I could rub their hearts and heal them. Unfortunately, grief is a process. I have to love them through this. My story shows the process of grieving through the eyes of Gabby. Just like Gabby, my new children have the support for young people grieving through our local hospice. I can't say enough how thankful I am that we have this resource available to us.
Gabby and her two best friends share a constellation in the sky named VICA. The trio named the constellation that tells the tale of their childhood friendship. Now that Gabby is fifteen, this tale written in the stars means more than ever. Gabby finds herself facing the threat of losing her best friend, Sam to cancer.
The sudden interest in Sam from people at school raises Gabby's suspicions. They've never cared about Sam before, with the exception of Brody, Gabby's other best friend. His insane good looks and off the scale popularity attracts the attention of most girls. Gabby's learned to keep her guard up with these girls who've attempted to befriend her in order to get close to Brody. She won't stand for Sam being used as a pawn in their games.
Grief over Sam's situation triggers memories of Gabby's past. She's flooded with images of a tragedy that happened when Gabby was five. To complicate matters even more, Gabby finds herself turning into one of the girls she's always complained about...the girls that drool after Brody. Gabby's afraid to let herself feel anything for Brody other than friendship. With the threat of losing Sam, she can't take a chance on jeopardizing her only other friendship.
As Gabby's world crashes down on her, she's forced to face the realities of life, death, grief, and love. How will she survive without the friendship that's written in the stars?
About T.C. Booth
TC Booth was born and raised in the small town where she currently lives and teaches. She is married with two daughters, teaches, and holds a master's degree in education.
She discovered her enjoyment of writing at a young age with the writing of poetry. This love of writing devopled into writing short stories for her family and students.
She wrote the children's story, The Time Travel Storm for her class that was published in 2102. Her short young adult fiction story titled "A Seasoned Card Player" was published in an anthology called A Certain Kind of Freedom last year.
She feels blessed to be living her dream of not only teaching children, but writing stories for them and young adults to enjoy as well.
Buy Linkshttp://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Vica-T-C-Booth-ebook/dp/B00LMD7N1S/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1404868108&sr=8-1&keywords=Beyond+Vica
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July 7, 2014
Kristin Wallace Returns With Imagine That
Covington Falls Chronicles is back in the spotlight, with book #3, Imagine That, by fellow Astraea Press author Kristin Wallace.BACK COVER BLURB:
Children’s author Emily Sinclair was supposed to be the next J.K. Rowling… Until her second book flopped and her imagination went on the fritz. So she sets out on an epic adventure to find inspiration again. Till a dead car lands her in Covington Falls, Georgia. Soon Emily is taking up her quest, looking for inspiration driving a mobile library van, as a companion to a crotchety old woman and her insomniac dog, and as a very ungraceful baker’s assistant. Of course, what really sparks her romantic fantasies is a valiant hero, though he yields a paint roller instead of a sword.
Rugged, blue-collar Nate Cooper has spent most of his life avoiding the printed page. These days he doesn’t have much use for fancy words and certainly not for a slightly off-center writer on the lam. Not when his mother is battling cancer, his little brother has morphed into a teenaged ogre, and God seems to have taken a vacation.
On paper, these two would seem the least likely pairing, and a happily ever after nothing but fantasy. But with faith and imagination Emily and Nate are about to write a new chapter that will lead to unexpected love.
Excerpt:
Chapter One
A stomach-churning thunk. A disaster-laden chug. A scary, threatening gurgle.Emily Sinclair’s hands clutched the steering wheel as she guided her how-could-you-give-out-on-me-now convertible to the side of the road. With a last ominous blunk and splutter, the car gave up the ghost.She switched off the engine, waited a few seconds, and then turned the key again. Nothing.Not surprising. As if anything glug-glugging like an octogenarian trying to cough up a lung was going to restart with so little effort.A cranky yowl went up from the passenger seat. Emily glanced over at the pet carrier and sent the fat Persian inside a confident smile. “Don’t worry, Wordsworth. This is why modern man invented cell phones.”She fished her phone out of her purse. A blank screen stared back at her. Pressing more buttons did nothing.Dead.Dead as her car.With a sound of disgust, Emily tossed the useless phone aside and stared out the windshield at the deserted country road in front of her. The very deserted country road that stretched around a sparkling blue lake and disappeared into the back of beyond. The kind of road featured in all the best horror stories. Emily’s mind conjured up every one, along with the opening line in the newspaper article.Once-famous children’s author found mangled to death. Quest to locate her lost imagination and revive faded career ends in disaster… as her mother predicted.Muttering an oath, Emily climbed out of the car and slammed the door as hard as she could. What a fix. And ironic. There were rules about writing. Not grammar rules, like where to put commas or when to use a semicolon. No, the unofficial rules for fiction writing. Chief among them is that an author should never start a novel with the character driving or thinking. No, readers wanted action right off the top, and the car could never break down.In college, Emily had written a short story where the heroine’s car stalled in a typical these-people-will-murder-you-in-your-sleep town. Emily’s professor had written cliché in bold, red pen across the page. Not satisfied, she’d added boring cliché, underlining the boring with three thick red lines. The critique had stung. The fact that it had come courtesy of Professor Vanessa Sinclair, Emily’s mother, had been like ripping off an old bandage.Emily was breaking all three cardinal rules of writing at once. Though technically the driving rule didn’t apply. Same for the sitting rule. She was thinking, though. Thinking her entire life had become a cliché, so what did it matter if she broke her mother’s precious writing rules? She was a one-hit writing wonder. A flash in the pan. A big-haired eighties’ rock band that had scored one giant hit and then disappeared into the oblivion of those nostalgic ‘Where are they now?’ music specials.Emily sighed. If one had to break down somewhere, one could do worse than… what had the sign said back there? Covington something. Covington something, Georgia. Muted afternoon sun shimmered off the surface of the lake. She lifted a hand to ward off the eye-watering glare and focused on the water. In her previous life, the golden flecks of sunlight reflecting off its surface would have transformed into a million different kinds of fantastical creatures. Or maybe something nightmarish would charge out of that bank of oak trees across the lake.Unfortunately, Emily was stuck in her real life, and her imagination was on the fritz.Well, at least she wouldn’t die of water deprivation while she waited to be rescued.Speaking of rescue.A car had appeared, winding around the curve of the lake. A big ole’ country truck calling to mind hoedowns and hay rides. A big ole’ rusty truck, Emily realized as it drew closer. Burnt red growth spread out across the hood like a marauding band of Vikings overtaking a defenseless village. She imagined rust was the only thing holding the vehicle together.The truck slowed and Emily tensed, torn between elation at being found and wariness regarding exactly who might be behind the wheel of the ancient rattletrap. The glare off the windshield made it impossible to see inside the cab, however.The tires veered off to the side of the road and stopped, sending up a cloud of dust. Emily waved her hand, choking on the airborne dirt. Her mouth felt dry as if she had licked the ground. The door opened. Work boots emerged. Brown and roughed-up and covered in… paint. A man stepped out, and Emily steadied her hands against the car to keep from falling over.Mr. Darcy. No, Heathcliff. Only instead of a cravat and breeches, he was dressed in faded jeans and a black T-shirt, which seemed molded to an impressive chest. Heath stretched up a good six-plus feet, towering over her puny five-foot-two frame. A lock of dark chocolate-brown hair brushed over his forehead. Their eyes met. Since she was already thinking in clichés, Emily’s mind offered up a million of them to describe his eyes. She could start with gray, but no way did such a mundane word do them justice. Slate, storm clouds, a roiling sea, glazed pewter. Devastating, and framed by thick sooty lashes no man had a right to possess.He stopped a few feet away, and Emily had the fanciful notion he was trying not to frighten her. Like she was a skittish filly about to bolt.“Hi,” he said. “Car trouble?”His voice was like his eyes. Smooth and deep, like honey in a cup of hot tea.Emily nodded. How could she speak when every male literary fantasy she’d ever dreamed about had unfolded from a rusted-out pickup?“You okay?” he asked. “You didn’t have an accident? Knock your head on anything?”“No. Just a car that decided to die,” Emily said, finally finding her voice. “Along with my cell. Although that’s my fault since I didn’t charge it last night, even though my mother is always nagging me not to forget, since I’ve taken it into my head to wander the globe on an aimless search for purpose and meaning. Her description anyway, but if you’d lost your imagination wouldn’t you go to the ends of the earth to find it again? She doesn’t understand, though. Although maybe she’s right. I mean, here I am stuck in Covington something, Georgia, with a dead car, a dead cell, and a dead imagination. Although if I had an imagination I know I could come up with something fantastic about your truck.”Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, horrified by the verbal diarrhea she’d just unleashed on her hapless rescuer.The stranger stared at her for a moment, and then did the most unexpected thing. He grinned. “What was that?”Her butt thumped against the hood of the car as her legs gave out. Oh, Heath had a smile on him that could tempt any fair maiden to let down her hair. Or anything else he wanted.
Buy Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Imagine-That-Covington-Falls-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B00LFRC6L8/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1404233034&sr=8-4&keywords=kristin+wallace
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/imagine-that-kristin-wallace/1119886610?ean=2940149785476
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Growing up Kristin devoured books like bags of Dove Dark Chocolate. Her first Golden Book led to Laura Ingalls Wilder, Nancy Drew, C.S. Lewis and the Sweet Valley High series. Later, she discovered romance novels and fell in love all over again. It’s no surprise then that Kristin would one day try her hand at writing them. She writes romance and women’s fiction filled with love, laughter and a leap of faith. She is the author of Covington Falls Chronicles, inspirational romances set in a quirky, Southern town with a character all it’s own. When she’s not writing her next novel, Kristin works as an advertising copywriter. She also enjoys singing in the church choir and worship team and playing flute in a community orchestra.
Covington Falls Chronicles: Marry Me (Book 1); Acting Up (Book 2); Imagine That (Book 3)
Connect with Kristin:Website: www.KristinWallaceAuthor.comFacebook: http://facebook.com/KristinWallaceAuthor Twitter: https://twitter.com/KWallaceAuthorAmazon: http://www.amazon.com/Kristin-Wallace/e/B00G5KX80I
July 3, 2014
Mary Cope and Beautiful One
Transformation, empowerment, love, and music come together in Mary Cope's new Young Adult release, Beautiful One.
I recently interviewed Mary Cope and discovered Beautiful One is the first book in a planned series.
1. What do you like best about your protagonist Elizabeth, and why do you think readers will relate to her?
What I like best about Elizabeth is her ability to see the good in others. She is kind, smart and musically talented but struggles with insecurities. I think most readers will relate to her because even when people appear to be confident, everyone has something they are insecure about.
2. How have your personal experiences influenced your writing?
Elizabeth struggles with a weight problem, and so do I. I have always had a battle with keeping my weight down. In fact, my journey in writing Beautiful One came to me while I was in the process of trying to shed a few pounds. I began to dream up my story while walking my yellow Labrador, Maggie. Also, I love music, so it made sense to weave my passion for music throughout the pages of my book.
3. What are you working on now?
I am currently writing Beautiful Mess, the second book in a planned trilogy for the Beautiful Series. Beautiful Life will follow.
4. What are you reading at the moment?
I am currently reading, Gifted, by fellow Astraea Press Author, Andy Lewter.
Blurb:Elizabeth Ryan is a beautiful, shy, naïve high school senior. Having never dated she meets the boy of her dreams, Aidan Mitchell. Despite his history of womanizing Liz is drawn to him. Soon Liz becomes the envy of all the girls on campus, when they become a couple and her dream boyfriend sweeps her off her feet and into the dating world that is all too new and strange for her. When other guys start to take notice of Liz, Aidan is troubled with fits of jealousy.Elizabeth then meets the ruggedly handsome, Spencer Hayes and they quickly bond over their passion for music. Liz begins to struggle with the feelings that spark between them. In the end Elizabeth finds herself torn between helping Aidan overcome his jealousy and anger and giving into what her heart truly wants.
Excerpt from Beautiful One
Chapter One
The faint sounds of a guitar drifted through the walls of my bathroom as I savored the last of the hot water before it became lukewarm. Stepping away from the spray, I turned the shower knob and watched the droplets trickle down the drain. Inhaling a deep breath my mind focused on one thing. Aidan Mitchell. Hearing Mason’s band practicing meant he would be here. I was ninety-nine percent sure Aidan wouldn’t blow off their practice. He knew how serious my brother was about the band, but he also had been avoiding me for days. The past week had been awful. I was determined to talk to him. All I wanted was a few answers. My emotions had run the gamut from confusion, frustration, regret, and sadness… sadness consumed me most of all, at night usually, and I was exhausted from it. But at this moment all I felt was anger. Anger was good. It was certainly better than pain. As I rushed down the hallway, the floorboards creaked beneath my feet and the walls began to vibrate with the beat of Derek pounding on the drums. When I entered my room the music was deafening, but today I didn’t mind. I untwisted the blue-and-white-polka-dot towel from my head and tossed it to the floor. The deep conditioner I used helped my fingers glide through my long damp curls. If I was going to confront Aidan, I wanted to look my best. No Frizzy Lizzie for me. That nickname, coupled with my big butt, had tormented me, growing up in a beach town surrounded by beautiful people. I had longed to look like a typical California girl: tall, blond, perfect. But, with dark hair and bordering on five feet three inches, that was never going to be me. After I blow-dried and flat-ironed my hair, I took off my purple robe and draped it over my desk chair. I slipped on a pair of jeans… yes, slipped them on. I didn’t have to tug, pull, or jiggle my butt to get in my pants anymore. When I easily pushed the button through the top of my jeans, it still made me smile. I couldn’t even count how many times I had to lie on my bed and suck in my stomach so I could zip up a pair of pants. Every time I slipped them on, I never took it for granted. I had worked my butt off… literally. I put on my bra and a green sweater before I pulled on my boots. I rushed downstairs to the door that led to the garage. Thinking about confronting Aidan and having to stare into those piercing blue eyes started to intimidate me. But this was my chance. I knew he was a few feet behind the door, and I needed to deal with him. Before I completely lost my nerve, I inhaled a deep breath and exhaled then pushed open the door. The stream of sunlight coming in through the open garage door blinded me for a moment. With squinted eyes, I made a beeline to the old brown sofa in the corner. My heart was beating so fast it almost seemed in tempo with Derek pounding the drums. I scooted over our yellow Labrador, Maggie, and wedged myself between her and the arm of the couch. Finally, I looked up to focus my attention on Aidan. He didn’t show. I sunk my head back into the cushions, exhaling a deep, long sigh, trying to rid the tension from my body. The guys were practicing their newest song. Indie-Alternative was their style, and they called themselves Random Plan. I glanced at Mason and could tell he was angry. I mouthed the word “Aidan?” Mason just shook his head. “Derek!” The tone in my brother’s voice made me sit up straight. “Derek!” Mason snapped again. Finally Derek stopped and silenced his cymbals. “What?” He lifted the front of his black t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, exposing his six-pack. His brown eyes bored into Mason’s. “Hey! Just ‘cuz you’re ticked off at the pretty boy, don’t take it out on me.” Derek reached back and grabbed a water from an old bookcase that held a few water bottles, electrical cords, an old CD player, and a collection of CDs. “Hey, Kyle, ya want one?” Kyle nodded and Derek tossed one across the garage to where he stood behind the keyboard. “Mason?” “Yeah, I’ll take one… Sorry, Derek.” Derek gave Mason a head nod and tossed him a bottle. He took a sip while Derek chugged his down. “Okay, start again.” Mason commanded. Derek picked up his sticks and began tapping. I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and listened to the music. Funny, I’d come into the garage so fearless it almost made me laugh. Who would have thought the once-overweight Elizabeth Ryan would stand up to the likes of Aidan Mitchell? I smiled to myself, allowing my mind to drift back to the time when I’d found it hard to even look at him...
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Bio:Mary Cope is a freelance writer of romance. Her book, Beautiful One, is the first in a planned trilogy. She enjoys spending time with her family, baking gourmet cookies, listening to music and taking long walks with her yellow Labrador, Maggie.
Website:http://marycopeauthor.com
Twitter:https://twitter.com/MaryCope_Author
Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mary-Cope/260006794162636
I recently interviewed Mary Cope and discovered Beautiful One is the first book in a planned series.
1. What do you like best about your protagonist Elizabeth, and why do you think readers will relate to her?
What I like best about Elizabeth is her ability to see the good in others. She is kind, smart and musically talented but struggles with insecurities. I think most readers will relate to her because even when people appear to be confident, everyone has something they are insecure about.
2. How have your personal experiences influenced your writing?
Elizabeth struggles with a weight problem, and so do I. I have always had a battle with keeping my weight down. In fact, my journey in writing Beautiful One came to me while I was in the process of trying to shed a few pounds. I began to dream up my story while walking my yellow Labrador, Maggie. Also, I love music, so it made sense to weave my passion for music throughout the pages of my book.
3. What are you working on now?
I am currently writing Beautiful Mess, the second book in a planned trilogy for the Beautiful Series. Beautiful Life will follow.
4. What are you reading at the moment?
I am currently reading, Gifted, by fellow Astraea Press Author, Andy Lewter.
Blurb:Elizabeth Ryan is a beautiful, shy, naïve high school senior. Having never dated she meets the boy of her dreams, Aidan Mitchell. Despite his history of womanizing Liz is drawn to him. Soon Liz becomes the envy of all the girls on campus, when they become a couple and her dream boyfriend sweeps her off her feet and into the dating world that is all too new and strange for her. When other guys start to take notice of Liz, Aidan is troubled with fits of jealousy.Elizabeth then meets the ruggedly handsome, Spencer Hayes and they quickly bond over their passion for music. Liz begins to struggle with the feelings that spark between them. In the end Elizabeth finds herself torn between helping Aidan overcome his jealousy and anger and giving into what her heart truly wants.
Excerpt from Beautiful One
Chapter One
The faint sounds of a guitar drifted through the walls of my bathroom as I savored the last of the hot water before it became lukewarm. Stepping away from the spray, I turned the shower knob and watched the droplets trickle down the drain. Inhaling a deep breath my mind focused on one thing. Aidan Mitchell. Hearing Mason’s band practicing meant he would be here. I was ninety-nine percent sure Aidan wouldn’t blow off their practice. He knew how serious my brother was about the band, but he also had been avoiding me for days. The past week had been awful. I was determined to talk to him. All I wanted was a few answers. My emotions had run the gamut from confusion, frustration, regret, and sadness… sadness consumed me most of all, at night usually, and I was exhausted from it. But at this moment all I felt was anger. Anger was good. It was certainly better than pain. As I rushed down the hallway, the floorboards creaked beneath my feet and the walls began to vibrate with the beat of Derek pounding on the drums. When I entered my room the music was deafening, but today I didn’t mind. I untwisted the blue-and-white-polka-dot towel from my head and tossed it to the floor. The deep conditioner I used helped my fingers glide through my long damp curls. If I was going to confront Aidan, I wanted to look my best. No Frizzy Lizzie for me. That nickname, coupled with my big butt, had tormented me, growing up in a beach town surrounded by beautiful people. I had longed to look like a typical California girl: tall, blond, perfect. But, with dark hair and bordering on five feet three inches, that was never going to be me. After I blow-dried and flat-ironed my hair, I took off my purple robe and draped it over my desk chair. I slipped on a pair of jeans… yes, slipped them on. I didn’t have to tug, pull, or jiggle my butt to get in my pants anymore. When I easily pushed the button through the top of my jeans, it still made me smile. I couldn’t even count how many times I had to lie on my bed and suck in my stomach so I could zip up a pair of pants. Every time I slipped them on, I never took it for granted. I had worked my butt off… literally. I put on my bra and a green sweater before I pulled on my boots. I rushed downstairs to the door that led to the garage. Thinking about confronting Aidan and having to stare into those piercing blue eyes started to intimidate me. But this was my chance. I knew he was a few feet behind the door, and I needed to deal with him. Before I completely lost my nerve, I inhaled a deep breath and exhaled then pushed open the door. The stream of sunlight coming in through the open garage door blinded me for a moment. With squinted eyes, I made a beeline to the old brown sofa in the corner. My heart was beating so fast it almost seemed in tempo with Derek pounding the drums. I scooted over our yellow Labrador, Maggie, and wedged myself between her and the arm of the couch. Finally, I looked up to focus my attention on Aidan. He didn’t show. I sunk my head back into the cushions, exhaling a deep, long sigh, trying to rid the tension from my body. The guys were practicing their newest song. Indie-Alternative was their style, and they called themselves Random Plan. I glanced at Mason and could tell he was angry. I mouthed the word “Aidan?” Mason just shook his head. “Derek!” The tone in my brother’s voice made me sit up straight. “Derek!” Mason snapped again. Finally Derek stopped and silenced his cymbals. “What?” He lifted the front of his black t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, exposing his six-pack. His brown eyes bored into Mason’s. “Hey! Just ‘cuz you’re ticked off at the pretty boy, don’t take it out on me.” Derek reached back and grabbed a water from an old bookcase that held a few water bottles, electrical cords, an old CD player, and a collection of CDs. “Hey, Kyle, ya want one?” Kyle nodded and Derek tossed one across the garage to where he stood behind the keyboard. “Mason?” “Yeah, I’ll take one… Sorry, Derek.” Derek gave Mason a head nod and tossed him a bottle. He took a sip while Derek chugged his down. “Okay, start again.” Mason commanded. Derek picked up his sticks and began tapping. I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and listened to the music. Funny, I’d come into the garage so fearless it almost made me laugh. Who would have thought the once-overweight Elizabeth Ryan would stand up to the likes of Aidan Mitchell? I smiled to myself, allowing my mind to drift back to the time when I’d found it hard to even look at him...
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Bio:Mary Cope is a freelance writer of romance. Her book, Beautiful One, is the first in a planned trilogy. She enjoys spending time with her family, baking gourmet cookies, listening to music and taking long walks with her yellow Labrador, Maggie.
Website:http://marycopeauthor.com
Twitter:https://twitter.com/MaryCope_Author
Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mary-Cope/260006794162636
June 30, 2014
Hawke's Nest: A New Contemporary Romance by Darcy Flynn
Darcy Flynn is in the Spotlight today with her new releaseHawke's Nest
Blurb:
Running away is nothing new for Annie Dell, aka high-fashion model Anna Delany. With the paparazzi hot on her trail, an out of town wedding couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. What better place to hide out than the quaint Florida beach town Liddy’s told her so much about. But a delayed flight, the mix up with the car rental, then a speeding ticket from the local Sheriff of Nottingham, her getaway is looking anything but relaxing.
Franklin County Sheriff, Levi Hawke, is tired of the spoiled, out-of-control students on fall break, who think they can speed through his county without consequence. After giving a ticket to a beautiful young woman he assumes is just another daddy’s girl looking for some fun in the sun, he discovers she’s his weekend date at his best friend’s wedding.
Through gritted teeth, masked by a half-hearted truce, they survive the weekend, only to find themselves stranded alone in the middle of a hurricane. You can discover a lot about a person while spending thirty-six hours without the comforts of electricity and modern conveniences. When circumstances further extend her stay in town, Levi pries deeper to find out what Annie’s running from. He knows when someone is haunted by their past. As the saying goes ... it takes one to know one.
Excerpt from HAWK'S NEST
Levi sipped his wine and watched her. He hadn’t missed the slight flush to her cheeks when he raised his glass to hers. If anything it made her more beautiful. Gave her an innocence he was certain she didn’t possess. At that moment the small orchestra began to play and several more couples moved to the dance floor. “Would you like to dance?” he asked.She lifted her eyes to his and blinked. Pleased to see he had surprised her, he stood and held out his hand. I’m not the small town bumpkin you thought I was.She hesitated but only for a moment, then stood and placed her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor and deftly took her into his arms. She sucked in her breath. The small but audible sound pleased him. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she strove to gain her footing. “Sorry, is my grip too tight?” “No. No, it’s fine.” She was lying. He was trained to know when someone wasn’t telling him the truth. “You dance beautifully,” she said.“You sound surprised.”“I am. In New York, I went dancing often. You’d be surprised how few men can dance. Really well, I mean. Most of them have two left feet and by the end of the evening my toes would end up black and blue.” Open and frank, her eyes held just a hint of laughter. His stomach lurched. That surprised him. That candid gaze of hers. He didn’t much like it. He liked it better when she played it coy. That he could deal with, because that’s who she really was. But this sweet innocent act was just that, an act. He deliberately twirled her hard and fast around another couple. She gasped and missed her footing. Daggers shot from her green eyes. There she is. She couldn’t stand him. Well, that was fine with him. The feeling was mutual. His mouth lifted at the corners and a small knowing smile spread across his handsome face.
Hawke’s Nest buy link: http://www.amazon.com/Hawkes-Nest-Like-Other-Book-ebook/dp/B00L3WPFZE/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1404148754&sr=1-1&keywords=hawke%27s+nest+by+darcy+flynnAlso by Darcy Flynn
Bio:Darcy Flynn is known for her heartwarming, sweet contemporary romances. Her refreshing storylines, irritatingly handsome heroes and feisty heroines will delight and entertain you from the first page to the last. Miss Flynn’s heroes and heroines have a tangible chemistry that is entertaining, humorous and competitive.
Darcy lives with her husband, son, two English Setters and a menagerie of other living creatures on her horse farm in Franklin, Tennessee. She raises rare breed chickens, stargazes on warm summer nights and indulges daily in afternoon tea.
How to connect with Darcy Flynn
Website/Blog: http://www.darcyflynnromances.Twitter: https://twitter.com/darcyflynnFacebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/DarcyFlynnAuthorAmazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0077AG3ZMGoodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2975929.Darcy_FlynnPinterest: http://pinterest.com/dflynnauthor/boards/Google+: https://plus.google.com/116563609469381811624/posts?tab=XX
June 29, 2014
Disney's Maleficent - a Metaphor for Rape
The witches and pagans I know enthusiastically endorse Maleficent , Disney's retelling of Sleeping Beauty from the "Bad" Fairy's perspective. So I took a break from writing the fourth book in the Teen Wytche Saga and headed for my local Regal Cinema to check it out.
Spoiler Alert
Since it had taken me awhile to see Maleficent, I entered the theater already knowing the plot's trajectory. What I didn't anticipate was Angelina Jolie's stunning portrayal of a victim's shock, agony, sense of betrayal, and anger in the aftermath of brutal, life-altering assault.
To fully understand the brilliance both in Linda Wolverton's screenplay and Jolie's acting, one must first trace Sleeping Beauty's literary roots. In the Brothers Grimm version of the fairytale - Little Briar Rose - a beautiful princess is placed under a sleeping enchantment by a fairy who was miffed because she was not invited to the christening.
The Grimm's tale was based on a 17th century French story, La Belle au Bois Dormant (The Beauty Sleeping in the Wood) by Charles Perrault. Follow the roots of the story further, and you discover an earlier 17th century tale, Sun, Moon, and Talia, by Giambattista Basile. In Basile's version, a king finds the enchanted girl (Talia) and rapes her. She later gives birth to twins, and the enchantment is broken when one of the babies sucks the splinter from Talia's finger.
Katy Rich, writing in Vanity Fair's Hollywood http://www.vanityfair.com/vf-hollywood/angelina-jolie-maleficent-rape reports that Angelina Jolie, a vocal activist against the use of sexual violence in war, confirmed that the scene in which Maleficent was drugged then violated by a man she had trusted, "deliberately echoes the too-familiar beats of the date-rape narrative." During an interview with BBC Woman’s Hour, Jolie stated, “We were very conscious, the writer [Linda Woolverton] and I, that it was a metaphor for rape.”
Rape of the Divine Feminine
Most likely, the witches and pagans (a person can be a pagan but not a witch) who so solidly endorse Maleficent do so in part because the film touches on humankind's hegemony over magical folk, and particularly the disempowerment of women with magic. (Flashback to the Burning Times.) Witches and Pagans are closely tied to Mother Earth. There is little doubt in Maleficent that if the king successfully invaded the moorlands, the attack would be not just on Maleficent and the magical realm. The Great Mother would be plundered.
Copyright 2014 by Ariella Moon
June 27, 2014
Bestselling Author Heather Gray's new Regency Romance, Jackal
Heather Gray, Best-selling author and super-nice person,returns with the newest book in herRegency Refuge series.
JACKAL(Regency Refuge #2)
Back Cover Blurb :Hiding in the shadows just got harder.
When tragedy strikes, Juliana and her family must flee their home. Can they persuade a virtual stranger to help them? Juliana isn't so sure, especially after their chaperone threatens to cane him. Even as Juliana struggles to trust him, she finds herself drawn to this mysterious man. Surely all she wants from him is refuge…
Rupert is a man whose life depends on his ability to remain unnoticed. What, then, is he supposed to do with this family he's inherited? His life is overrun with an ancient chaperone who would terrify a lesser man, two spirited girls, and the secretive Juliana – someone he comes to think of as his own precious jewel.
With this new responsibility thrust upon him, Rupert will have to make sacrifices – but will God ask him to sacrifice everything?
Excerpt :1810A duke had been cut down in the prime of his life. According to the War Department, The Hunter was to blame.Jackal had been put onto The Hunter's scent and told to ferret him out at all cost. It was his job, his duty to the crown, and he treated it with the seriousness it demanded. Evil could not be allowed to go unpunished, and people who took pleasure in destroying the lives of others would not walk away with impunity, not on his watch.Jackal met with his contacts in the Austrian government and found no gratification in revealing they had a traitor in their midst. It had been a necessary move, and now the problem would be dealt with. The Austrians would put The Hunter down, and England's hands would remain clean of the mess, exactly as the minister wanted.Grim foreboding furrowed his brow as he left the meeting with the Austrians. His lack of evidence mocked him. He'd done as ordered, and they'd believed him, but had it been his choice, he'd have gathered more proof first.Jackal climbed into his carriage and slapped his hand against the roof, signaling the driver with his readiness to depart. A lengthy ride awaited him. He would leave the carriage and his current identity behind in Munich once he arrived there. New papers and fresh horses were waiting for him. The same would happen again when he crossed over into Stuttgart, and then again in Brussels. His task was clear: remain alive long enough to claim each of the new identities and return safely to his homeland.Sitting back on the roughly cushioned seat, he accepted what he'd begun to suspect. This would be his last assignment for the crown. He was getting too old for the job. The time to retire was upon him. The younger bucks were willing – if not entirely ready – to take their place among the ranks of the unseen, unknown, and unnamed heroes of war. Jackal shook his head. Not too long ago, he'd been one of those young bucks. Ready for retirement at age thirty-two? The thought would be laughable in any other career. In his line of work, though, only those who retired young lived to be old and grey.Lost in melancholy, Jackal barely noted the change from the raucous noise of a bustling merchant district to the quiet pastoral sounds that would accompany him on most of this journey. Europe was a large land with rich cities interspersed with vast emptiness dotted with small hamlets. Traveling by carriage would take weeks, but as long as he could report back that he'd done as ordered, it would be worth the time.He settled into his seat. They were still days from their first sanctioned stop. As always, the best defense was to keep moving.
****
A change in the carriage's soothing methodical movement woke Jackal from his doze and alerted him that something was amiss. Awareness coursed through his veins, pushing away the remnant of sleep. A quick glance at the curtained window told him it was late morning. They'd ridden through the night to put as much distance as possible between them and Vienna – the current hub of Austrian government.The carriage was moving with a wildness he'd felt only one other time in his life. Dread snaked through his middle as he accepted the truth. There was no longer a driver in control of his conveyance. Jackal crouched low on the floor for balance as he prepared to throw open the door and jump. Perhaps he should have sought retirement one assignment sooner.Before his hand could touch the door, a jarring force threw Jackal against the seat to his left, shooting pain up his arm. They'd been boarded, then, and his driver – an agent he'd worked with for years – had likely not been alive to sound the alarm. Emotion would come later. For now, Jackal needed to focus on one thing: Survival.The carriage gained speed under the skillful hand of whoever now sat in the driver's seat. I should have jumped when I had the chance. Jackal shook his head as he calculated the odds of survival.Palming his gun, he pounded on the roof of the carriage, commanding the driver to stop. Surprise flared to life as his conveyance did indeed come to a standstill. Rather than slow to a gentle stop, the carriage halted its forward momentum in a skidding bone-shaking fashion. It was the kind of stop that guaranteed no beast would be able to walk away from it afterward.Jackal jumped before the dust could settle. His best chance would be to go on the offence and catch the driver off-guard. Though he'd assumed the driver had a partner, nothing could have prepared him for the vicious attack awaiting him on the other side of the door.Jackal no sooner touched the ground than he was trampled under the anxious feet of a high-stepping horse. He'd not even had a chance to gain his footing. As he lay on the ground, Jackal both heard and felt the breaking of bone in his left leg. A couple of his ribs surrendered to the heavy hooves as well. Rolling onto his side, he took aim at the perpetrator. The sun blinded him, and he could distinguish no features on the man whose gun dared him to move. In the split second it took for him to reassure himself he was not aiming at an innocent bystander – for they were indeed in one of the numerous modest hamlets that dotted the continent's countryside – the rider pulled the trigger, and pain seared through Jackal's already throbbing leg. It felt as if the lead had burrowed its way into his very bone.He pulled the trigger of his flintlock pistol, and the man on the horse recoiled. Even as Jackal reached for the gun concealed at the ankle of his wounded leg, he knew it was futile. The rider had a second gun in-hand before his own fingers even brushed against the grip of his hidden weapon. Pain tore through his shoulder, immobilizing his shooting arm. Another ball of lead ripped into his middle. He felt his blood seeping out onto the street.Accepting his fate, he asked only one thing. "At whose hand am I to die this day?"Laughter vile enough to sour port met his question. "Today the Jackal shall meet his end at the hands of The Hunter."The Hunter? The Austrians were supposed to have him by now."Your plan failed, and I am free. Prepare to die."Blackness closing in around him, Jackal released the last thought held captive in his mind.Why God?Cold claimed his body as he slipped into darkness. He neither heard nor felt the next shot.
Author Bio :Heather Gray is the author of the Ladies of Larkspur inspirational western romance series, including Mail Order man, Just Dessert, and Redemption. She also writes the Regency Refuge series with titles His Saving Grace, Jackal, and the soon-to-be-released Queen. But that's not all! Interested in contemporary Christian romance? Take a look at Ten Million Reasons and Nowhere for Christmas.
Heather loves coffee, God, her family, and laughter – not necessarily in that order! She writes approachable and flawed characters who, through the highs and lows of life, find a way to love God, embrace each day, and laugh out loud right along with her. And, yeah, her books almost always have someone who's a coffee addict. Some things just can't be helped.
Buy Links :Amazon USAmazon UKBarnes & NobleSmashwordsiTunes
Where to Find Me :My Website – http://www.heathergraywriting.comMy Blog – http://www.heathergraywriting.com/blogFacebook – http://www.facebook.com/heathergraywritingGoogle+ – https://plus.google.com/+Heathergraywritingnow Twitter – http://twitter.com/LaughDreamWritePinterest – http://www.pinterest.com/LaughDreamWrite
JACKAL(Regency Refuge #2)
Back Cover Blurb :Hiding in the shadows just got harder.
When tragedy strikes, Juliana and her family must flee their home. Can they persuade a virtual stranger to help them? Juliana isn't so sure, especially after their chaperone threatens to cane him. Even as Juliana struggles to trust him, she finds herself drawn to this mysterious man. Surely all she wants from him is refuge…
Rupert is a man whose life depends on his ability to remain unnoticed. What, then, is he supposed to do with this family he's inherited? His life is overrun with an ancient chaperone who would terrify a lesser man, two spirited girls, and the secretive Juliana – someone he comes to think of as his own precious jewel.
With this new responsibility thrust upon him, Rupert will have to make sacrifices – but will God ask him to sacrifice everything?
Excerpt :1810A duke had been cut down in the prime of his life. According to the War Department, The Hunter was to blame.Jackal had been put onto The Hunter's scent and told to ferret him out at all cost. It was his job, his duty to the crown, and he treated it with the seriousness it demanded. Evil could not be allowed to go unpunished, and people who took pleasure in destroying the lives of others would not walk away with impunity, not on his watch.Jackal met with his contacts in the Austrian government and found no gratification in revealing they had a traitor in their midst. It had been a necessary move, and now the problem would be dealt with. The Austrians would put The Hunter down, and England's hands would remain clean of the mess, exactly as the minister wanted.Grim foreboding furrowed his brow as he left the meeting with the Austrians. His lack of evidence mocked him. He'd done as ordered, and they'd believed him, but had it been his choice, he'd have gathered more proof first.Jackal climbed into his carriage and slapped his hand against the roof, signaling the driver with his readiness to depart. A lengthy ride awaited him. He would leave the carriage and his current identity behind in Munich once he arrived there. New papers and fresh horses were waiting for him. The same would happen again when he crossed over into Stuttgart, and then again in Brussels. His task was clear: remain alive long enough to claim each of the new identities and return safely to his homeland.Sitting back on the roughly cushioned seat, he accepted what he'd begun to suspect. This would be his last assignment for the crown. He was getting too old for the job. The time to retire was upon him. The younger bucks were willing – if not entirely ready – to take their place among the ranks of the unseen, unknown, and unnamed heroes of war. Jackal shook his head. Not too long ago, he'd been one of those young bucks. Ready for retirement at age thirty-two? The thought would be laughable in any other career. In his line of work, though, only those who retired young lived to be old and grey.Lost in melancholy, Jackal barely noted the change from the raucous noise of a bustling merchant district to the quiet pastoral sounds that would accompany him on most of this journey. Europe was a large land with rich cities interspersed with vast emptiness dotted with small hamlets. Traveling by carriage would take weeks, but as long as he could report back that he'd done as ordered, it would be worth the time.He settled into his seat. They were still days from their first sanctioned stop. As always, the best defense was to keep moving.
****
A change in the carriage's soothing methodical movement woke Jackal from his doze and alerted him that something was amiss. Awareness coursed through his veins, pushing away the remnant of sleep. A quick glance at the curtained window told him it was late morning. They'd ridden through the night to put as much distance as possible between them and Vienna – the current hub of Austrian government.The carriage was moving with a wildness he'd felt only one other time in his life. Dread snaked through his middle as he accepted the truth. There was no longer a driver in control of his conveyance. Jackal crouched low on the floor for balance as he prepared to throw open the door and jump. Perhaps he should have sought retirement one assignment sooner.Before his hand could touch the door, a jarring force threw Jackal against the seat to his left, shooting pain up his arm. They'd been boarded, then, and his driver – an agent he'd worked with for years – had likely not been alive to sound the alarm. Emotion would come later. For now, Jackal needed to focus on one thing: Survival.The carriage gained speed under the skillful hand of whoever now sat in the driver's seat. I should have jumped when I had the chance. Jackal shook his head as he calculated the odds of survival.Palming his gun, he pounded on the roof of the carriage, commanding the driver to stop. Surprise flared to life as his conveyance did indeed come to a standstill. Rather than slow to a gentle stop, the carriage halted its forward momentum in a skidding bone-shaking fashion. It was the kind of stop that guaranteed no beast would be able to walk away from it afterward.Jackal jumped before the dust could settle. His best chance would be to go on the offence and catch the driver off-guard. Though he'd assumed the driver had a partner, nothing could have prepared him for the vicious attack awaiting him on the other side of the door.Jackal no sooner touched the ground than he was trampled under the anxious feet of a high-stepping horse. He'd not even had a chance to gain his footing. As he lay on the ground, Jackal both heard and felt the breaking of bone in his left leg. A couple of his ribs surrendered to the heavy hooves as well. Rolling onto his side, he took aim at the perpetrator. The sun blinded him, and he could distinguish no features on the man whose gun dared him to move. In the split second it took for him to reassure himself he was not aiming at an innocent bystander – for they were indeed in one of the numerous modest hamlets that dotted the continent's countryside – the rider pulled the trigger, and pain seared through Jackal's already throbbing leg. It felt as if the lead had burrowed its way into his very bone.He pulled the trigger of his flintlock pistol, and the man on the horse recoiled. Even as Jackal reached for the gun concealed at the ankle of his wounded leg, he knew it was futile. The rider had a second gun in-hand before his own fingers even brushed against the grip of his hidden weapon. Pain tore through his shoulder, immobilizing his shooting arm. Another ball of lead ripped into his middle. He felt his blood seeping out onto the street.Accepting his fate, he asked only one thing. "At whose hand am I to die this day?"Laughter vile enough to sour port met his question. "Today the Jackal shall meet his end at the hands of The Hunter."The Hunter? The Austrians were supposed to have him by now."Your plan failed, and I am free. Prepare to die."Blackness closing in around him, Jackal released the last thought held captive in his mind.Why God?Cold claimed his body as he slipped into darkness. He neither heard nor felt the next shot.
Author Bio :Heather Gray is the author of the Ladies of Larkspur inspirational western romance series, including Mail Order man, Just Dessert, and Redemption. She also writes the Regency Refuge series with titles His Saving Grace, Jackal, and the soon-to-be-released Queen. But that's not all! Interested in contemporary Christian romance? Take a look at Ten Million Reasons and Nowhere for Christmas.
Heather loves coffee, God, her family, and laughter – not necessarily in that order! She writes approachable and flawed characters who, through the highs and lows of life, find a way to love God, embrace each day, and laugh out loud right along with her. And, yeah, her books almost always have someone who's a coffee addict. Some things just can't be helped.
Buy Links :Amazon USAmazon UKBarnes & NobleSmashwordsiTunes
Where to Find Me :My Website – http://www.heathergraywriting.comMy Blog – http://www.heathergraywriting.com/blogFacebook – http://www.facebook.com/heathergraywritingGoogle+ – https://plus.google.com/+Heathergraywritingnow Twitter – http://twitter.com/LaughDreamWritePinterest – http://www.pinterest.com/LaughDreamWrite
June 24, 2014
Interview with Young Adult Fantasy Author, L.E. Fred
1Young Adult fantasy adventure author L. E. Fred answers probing questions about her debut novel, LUCID.a. Q: What inspired the creation of Lucid?A: I started writing Lucid after experiencing my first lucid dream. It’s a very out-of-body and surreal experience. We’re used to dreaming every night, but being able to control your actions and fate in the dream world is almost a magical thing. After figuring out how to wake up (yes, you have to oftentimes find your way out of the dreams,) I started pondering the idea of a dream world actually existing, and before I knew it, I had Devon and the plot for Lucid.
b. Q: You write from the P.O.V. of a 15 year-old boy. Is there anyone who shaped Devon’s character as the protagonist.A: A wonderful counselor-in-training that I worked with actually inspired Devon’s character. Real-life Devon, who shall be nameless, was one of those campers that turned into a CIT when he outgrew the camp’s age groups. I never went to summer camp as a child, so working at one was a very interesting experience. I got to witness real-life Devon change from being a happy-go-lucky camper to a miserable CIT. As for Devon’s personality, that was shaped by my own sense of humor. I wrote Lucid through Devon’s eyes, and my own commentary sort of slipped through. It fit his sarcastic nature, though, and rereading some parts still makes me laugh.
c. Q: What about the villains? How did they come to be?A: Ever since I can remember, I’ve been fascinated by mythological monsters. There seems to be a common thread of villainous snakes and lions. A chimera combines these two deadly creatures, along with a goat, into one evil creature. I liked the idea of having three diverse villains; the more you get to know a villain, the scarier they can become for the reader and the heroes. As I wrote, Serpentine, Gruff, and Leona, seemed to appear out of nowhere to fit the evil villain’s roles. The Nightmares were a little trickier. I thought long and hard about how they should be portrayed, and I eventually started combining features of animals and creatures that people feared the most into one character. That’s why they have shark teeth and devil horns.
d. Q: Lucid is your first novel. Are you currently working on anything else?A: Since Devon and his friends’ story didn’t want to finish at the end of Lucid, I’m currently working on the sequel. The story will continue our heroes’ adventure, but you’ll get to hear from other characters in it. It will also have much more of a fantasy element with an even crazier cast of characters. Aside from Lucid, I’m working on two more stories, both in the YA fiction genre.
e. Q: What inspired you to write YA fiction?A: I’m a teacher, so I love working with young adults and teens. I’ve seen the power of books transform kids’ ways of thinking about the world and boost confidence. Never underestimate the power of reading. I know it played an important role in shaping my future, and I hope to reach out to as many young adults to inspire them to find their inner heroes and go change the world for the better.
Excerpt:I know that most adventure/fantasy/whatever-you-would-like-to–call-these-stories start with something magical, but my story starts with something ordinary, dreams. I’m talking about the “I’m taking a test and don’t realize I’m in my underwear” kind of dreams. We have them every night, whether we remember them or not. Sometimes they leave us waking up with excitement or inspiration. Sometimes they cause us to wake with a shriek and to look around our rooms. Sometimes they leave us waking up confused or ashamed. These experiences are probably commonplace for most people, but I doubt any of you could ever say your dreams caused you to stay asleep for a long period of time. What if your dreams made you disappear?
2. Bio:L. E. Fred is a perpetual dreamer who writes about worlds both within and without this realm. With a degree in psychology, L. E. Fred tends to get lost in the mind, the greatest adventure of all. L. E. Fred is currently traveling the world, finding more adventures to inspire new tales of dreams and beyond.3. Social media links:a. Facebook: http://facebook.com/only.but.a.dreamb. Blog: http://marsjaws.blogspot.comc. Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/marsjaws
Buy Links Amazon
5. Favorite 5s:
a. 5 favorite YA books/series1. Harry Potter by J. K. Rowling2. Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan3. Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld4. Deltora Quest by Emily Rodda5. A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket
b. 5 fun facts about the Lucid crew.1. Devon’s favorite thing about the Dream World is the pink grass. 2. Kyle is deathly afraid of insects. Devon hinted that his older brother screams like a small child when they find roaches in their houses.3. Mitch, despite his love for water sports, is afraid of open water. He saw JAWS one too many times to trust the murky deep.4. Viv fights with Elis frequently, but she is secretly jealous of his sword skills.
5. Iven researched the history of human music (with the help of Sophia.) His favorite tunes come from 15th century Gregorian chants and 1980s pop.
June 20, 2014
Win a Free Amazon Gift Card! Midsummer's Eve Giveaway Hop
At Midsummer we celebrate the longest day of the year. What better way to spend all those hours of daylight than by reading?
One lucky winner on this leg of the hop
will win a $5.00 Amazon Gift Card
and their choice of
one e-book from the Teen Wytche Saga:
Spell Check, Book #1
or
Spell Struck, Book # 2
or
Spell Fire, Book #3
a Rafflecopter giveaway
At Midsummer the veil between worlds is
especially thin and magic and mischief abound.
To learn more about this pagan holiday,
visit http://www.ariellamoon.com/moonsmagicandmore.html
Other sites participating in this Blog Hop:
June 17, 2014
Krysten Lindsay Hager Shows her TRUE COLORS
Debut Astraea Press author Krysten Lindsay Hager is in the spotlight today with her Young Adult novel TRUE COLORS.1. TRUE COLORS delves into the cutthroat world of modeling. Have you ever modeled or entered a beauty competition?I did some modeling and went on auditions and shoots, too. Unlike my character, Landry, I actually liked doing runway work. I remember using a good luck charm that I was convinced kept me from tripping on the runway. I used to put a tiny laminated picture of my favorite singer, George Michael, in my shoe for luck.
2. When you write Middle Grade or Young Adult fiction, do you draw upon your own school days, or do you look elsewhere for inspiration?I remember those days vividly, but it’s more the emotions and how I felt about a situation that I use in my work rather than the actual situation itself. I have never been able to base a character on a real person because people are always changing and it’s impossible to capture all the sides of their personalities. It’s easier and more fun to make up my own characters and situations. My character Landry and I do share the same tendency to overthink everything though. I’m one of those people who can’t shut off their brain at night long enough to sleep. Someone sent me a cartoon of someone trying to sleep and it says, “Think ALL the thoughts!” That’s totally me at night and I’ve been that way since I was a kid.
3. Which character in TRUE COLORS was the easiest to write? Which was the most difficult?Landry was probably the easiest to write as well as Ashanti and Peyton. I would have loved to known girls like Ashanti and Peyton when I was that age. The hardest to write was Thalia because she is much more self-assured at that age than I ever was—I’m still not as self-assured. She isn’t the most popular of the girls in school, but there’s a strength to her in that she doesn’t care what people think. I wish I had felt that way at that age. Actually, I wish I felt that way now, too.
4. If a fictional world could magically become real, which novel would you like to step into, and why?That’s a tough one because there are a few. I guess I would like to step into The Great Gatsby and try to convince Jay that Daisy isn’t who he thinks she is…and that he should be with me instead. I mean, really, Jay, save your money on those lavish parties and buy me something! Or, ahem, just teach him to be less materialistic…whichever.
5. Who were your favorite authors when you were growing up?I grew up when all the series books were big, so I read Ann M. Martin’s Baby-sitter’s Club books, The Sisters series by Jennifer Cole, Francine Pascal’s Sweet Valley High books and her Victoria series (met her once and she let me look at the Sweet Valley “bible” she created for the series. I choked up—not even joking). I was obsessed with Betsy Haynes’ The Great Mom Swap when I read it in the fourth grade. And I reread Erika Tamar’s Good-bye, Glamour Girl over and over. I was a big reader growing up and I was lucky I had parents that fed my reading addiction.
True Colors by Krysten Lindsay Hager
Tagline: A little competition can really bring out people’s true colors.
Blurb: Landry Albright enters a modeling competition with her two best friends, but runs into jealousy when she advances to the next level without them. Enter the gorgeous Devon, who also makes the first cut of the modeling contest. Devon seems like the perfect new best friend, but can their friendship survive the competition? Throw in a new boy, jealousy and loyalty issues, and insults from hair stylists. How’s a girl to deal?
Excerpt: The competition was for girls between the ages of thirteen and seventeen, but it felt like Ericka, Tori, and I were the youngest ones there. I only saw a couple of girls from school, and the lineup looked more like something you’d see on a music video set. All the girls were gorgeous, and they had these curvy womanly bodies. I looked like a skinny little kid next to them. The first girl walked out, and I heard the judges say she “owned the runway,” and, “walked like a gazelle.” I was starting to feel ill. I wasn’t sure which way it was going to come, but I knew I had to find a bathroom — fast. I started to get out of line when Ericka grabbed my wrist.
“It’s almost time,” she said. A tiny bit of spit flew out of her mouth and hit my cheek.
I wasn’t sure why she was so intent on me going through with it, but she had a death grip on my arm, so I didn’t have much of a choice. Her number was called and she walked out to the stage. One of the other girls said she walked like a kid with sand bucket stilts on her feet, but she came back with a smirk on her face like she knew she’d get chosen.
“They said they had never seen such long legs,” she said.
Tori was next.
“She walks like a gorilla at feeding time,” said the girl behind me. I went next, and I tried to focus on not tripping over my feet. My mom’s pumps had a rubber sole on the bottom, which probably wasn’t the brightest idea seeing as my shoes were making squeaking noises as I walked. I was so nervous I couldn’t stop smiling as I walked. I looked like the plastic clown who blows up balloons with its mouth at the Pizza Palace. When I got to the end of the runway, I tried to cross my feet to turn like the other girls had, but I over rotated and ended up doing a full spin which made my kilt fan out and gave the mall walkers a view of my blue underpants. I tried to act like it was intentional and did an extra turn. One of the judges put her hand up to stop me, and I held my breath as she started to speak.
Buy Link: Amazon
Author bio: Krysten Lindsay Hager is an author and book addict who has never met a bookstore she didn’t like. She’s worked as a journalist and also writes middle grade, YA, humor essays, and adult fiction. Her debut novel, TRUE COLORS, will be out June 17th from Astraea Press. She is originally from Michigan and has lived in South Dakota, Portugal, and currently resides in Southern Ohio where you can find her reading and writing when she’s not catching up on her favorite shows.
Contact links: Website: www.krystenlindsay.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/KrystenLindsayHagerAuthorTwitter: https://twitter.com/KrystenLindsayInstagram: http://instagram.com/krystenlindsayGoodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/KrystenLindsay
