Sharon Ledwith's Blog, page 47

Guest Post: A Series in the Making by Marci Boudreaux...

Since I know a thing or two about writing and planning a series, I thought I'd invite friend and romance writer Marci Boudreaux to share her experience on creating a book series. Take it away Marci...

Never before have I felt the need to make a series bible. Maybe because I’ve only written one series before and had no idea what the hell I was doing!

On to series two…the title is still a work in progress, but I have some ideas that I’m just waiting for my editor to tell me are crap so I can start over. (She’d say it very nicely, though.)

This new series is about a detective agency run and operated by some pretty kick ass dames who don’t take crap from nobody—especially the men in their lives. This is also completely out of the norm for me, so we'll see what (if anything) happens to it.


Meet the ladies of the yet to be named agency that will be doing awesome to be determined kick ass things! Also known as Em's imaginary friends for the next year or so.

Problem is, unlike my last series, I’m dropping all the characters into book one. Most will be in the background so I don’t boggle anyone’s brain with a huge cast. But, even so, my brain gets boggled so I gotta keep all these people and their nuances straight in my head.

And, that right there, folks, is what that whole series bible thing is for.

I get it now.

Since I’ve never done this before, I’m totally winging it. Pinterst pages. Word docs. Notes in two different notebooks that will eventually all be put in one place. I have pictures. Descriptions. Quotes. All kinds of things that someday, I’ll look at and go “DAMN! I totally forgot she’s got blue eyes not green!”

I’m working on getting organized enough to have all this in one place. I’ll get there. I’m just a wee bit slow, but I am taking this whole thing very seriously, y’all.

I’d love to introduce you to the ladies, but book one is still with my editor and I don’t want to jinx this series before it is even out of diapers, but keep an eye out. I think you’ll be hearing about them soon!

Until then…any suggestions on how to keep all this stuff straight?

As a teen, Marci Boudreaux skipped over young adult books and jumped right into the world of romance novels. She's never left. Marci lives with her husband, two kiddos, and their numerous pets. Until recently, she was a freelance writer appearing monthly in a variety of local magazines. She now focuses on writing and her work as a content editor.

Romance is her preferred reading and writing genre because nothing feels better than falling in love with someone new and her husband doesn't like when she does that in real life.

Learn more about Marci Boudreaux on her website and blog . Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter .

Book Tour: Unquiet Dead by Chris Pavesic...

About Unquiet Dead:

In Chiaroscuro it’s important to keep the faith.

When the Temples north of Chiaroscuro are burned and followers of the Sun Goddess are murdered, Catherine, a bard of the Ealdoth Temple, sets out to find those responsible and to bring them to justice. With only the help of a traveling group of minstrels and a retired fae investigator, Catherine must solve the mystery before more people are killed.

So saddle up your clockwork mount, buckle on your electro-dagger, and join Catherine as she finds herself pitted against members of her own Temple, rogues members of the Seelie Court, and a seemingly unstoppable army of undead.


Unquiet DeadChiaroscuro Chronicles, Book 1Chris Pavesic
140 pages

Genres: Steampunk, Mystery, Dark Fantasy

Learn More About Unquiet Dead:

Amazon

Goodreads

Facebook

Follow the virtual tour and visit tours hosts sharing spotlights, excerpts, and reviews. Link to tour schedule:

https://saphsbookpromotions.blogspot.com/2018/03/virtual-book-tour-schedule-unquiet-dead.html


Read an Excerpt:

“I’m glad to see you’re talking again.” Benedict glanced at her, his eyes kind. “Did you work out whatever was bothering you?”
Catherine gave him a wry smile. “No.”
“Want to talk about it? I can be a good listener.”
“No.” She stared down at her shoe as she tapped it against the smooth wooden footrest of the wagon. “Not now,” she added, to take some of the sting out of her reply. “I need to get my thoughts clear before I discuss them with another person. But I appreciate the offer.”
“Suit yourself.” He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair.
“We do not have to stop talking. Just…on a different subject.”
He smiled. “Lady’s choice.”
“Why did you undertake this job?”
“That’s direct. You don’t think it was for the money, then?”
“No, I don’t.”
“It’s an awful lot of money.”
“I don’t know you very well, but I have a feeling that you don’t do much only for the money.” She glanced at the horses, the reality in front of her. “Those animals are proof of that. Clean, well-fed, and happy. With little red ribbons in their hair. Most people would not be so kind.”
Benedict smiled at her comments and then his face grew sober. “A lot of the people who lived in those communities—they were friends. They were murdered, plain and simple, and no one seems to know who it was, who benefits from their deaths. It’s rare someone in my position would be able to do something about it.”
“You want to find the murderer or murderers and bring them to justice?”
His grip tightened inadvertently on the reins. “I want to find out who killed them and bring a reckoning.”
Meet the Author:

Chris Pavesic lives in the Midwestern United States and loves Kona coffee, fairy tales, and all types of speculative fiction. Between writing projects, Chris can most often be found reading, gaming, gardening, working on an endless list of DIY household projects, or hanging out with friends.
Find Chris Pavesic Online:
Website
Amazon Author Page
Facebook Author Page
Twitter Handle @chrispavesic

The Story Behind the Story: The Boggart of Fairy Falls…

Black Dog by Christopher-Manuel
In the first book of my teen psychic mystery series entitled, Lost and Found: Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls, I have a character named Boggart. I’ve even devoted an entire chapter to him. I describe him as a big, black dog who is part pit bull, part hound…and part insane. I don’t blame him really. After all, the poor dog was found at the dump, in the place where Boggart says “stinks, where there’s lots of ugly smells, and lots of birds.” Now before you start feeling sorry for this poor mutt, don’t. Boggart is a force to be reckoned with. And trust me, he should be. Although I named him after a type of Bogey hobgoblin in English folklore that has poltergeist habits, he also has the qualities of the terrifying spirit called Black Dog.
Like my fictional canine, a Boggart can be helpful and sociable with some people (like my main character Meagan Walsh), but most often Boggarts are mischievous, annoying, and frightening. Without making a visual appearance, the Boggart makes itself known by playing tricks on people, such as pulling off their bedclothes. Sometimes Boggart acts are accompanied by terrible noises or laughter. Boggarts can also be mean and nasty, and have been known to scratch, punch, and pinch people. Yikes! The friendly household Boggart, however, acts much like a brownie and will work hard washing, cleaning, and doing heavy farm work if treated well. Hmm…where can I get me one of these creatures? On the flipside, if upset, this spirit will destroy or displace everything in the house and farm buildings.
Black Dog (a.k.a. Black Hound or Black Shuck) is a type of fiend described as a shaggy-haired black dog about the size of a calf with enormous glowing, fiery red eyes. Some are reported to be malicious, and some can be quite benevolent at times. Black Dogs are usually encountered on lonely tracks, ancient roads and crossroads, bridges, and entrances—the places of transition in human lives. They are normally benign if left alone, however to meet Black Dog means death within a year. There are well known instances of Black Dogs appearing to lost travelers or frightened girls traveling alone and guiding them safely home. These creatures also have been known to protect those under attack. Now that sounds like a great guard dog to me!
When I found through my research that Boggarts inhibit a house, churchyard, or live in a body, such as that of a cat or dog, I had a lightbulb moment. I decided to create my own Boggart, making him resemble the Black Dog of English folklore, and added him to my cast of furry characters in Lost and Found . I have to say Boggart transformed into more of a guard dog, than a beast, knowing his job was to protect at all costs, and loyal to the end. But to be on the safe side, if you ever find yourself wandering on one of the back roads in Fairy Falls after dark, make sure you check over your shoulder now and then. Oh, and bring a flashlight. Boggarts abhor the light.

Cover Reveal and New Book Release: Unquiet Dead by Chris Pavesic...

Unquiet DeadChris Pavesic

About the Unquiet Dead: 
In Chiaroscuro it’s important to keep the faith.

When the Temples north of Chiaroscuro are burned and followers of the Sun Goddess are murdered, Catherine, a bard of the Ealdoth Temple, sets out to find those responsible and to bring them to justice. With only the help of a traveling group of minstrels and a retired fae investigator, Catherine must solve the mystery before more people are killed.

So saddle up your clockwork mount, buckle on your electro-dagger, and join Catherine as she finds herself pitted against members of her own Temple, rogues members of the Seelie Court, and a seemingly unstoppable army of undead.

Genres: Steampunk/Mystery/Dark Fantasy 
Length: 140 pages. Available in Print and E-Book 
Add to Your Shelf on Goodreads 
Purchase Your Copy from Amazon 
Learn More on Facebook
Excerpt

Services were scheduled to commence in an hour, and Ernest needed to be ready. He struck a match and lit the first gaslight, watching the flame take hold and flare up. The light pushed back the shadows so parishioners were able to find their way to the pews without stumbling. He would extinguish the artificial lights right before the service so the effect of the sunlight illuminating the darkness hit with maximum impact as it flooded through the skylights. 

The parishioners would marvel at how the Temple filled with the Goddess’s Holy Light just in time for the service. Ernest would marvel at the fact that none of them were smart enough to realize he flipped a switch on back of the altar to swing open mechanical shutters. 

There was a religious stirring in Grand Marsh more powerful than anything Ernest had experienced in his ten years as a Sacerd. The services at dawn, noon, and sundown were packed. Few of the farmers went out to the fields. They worked in town on community projects or sat drinking at the tavern. Their wives remained in the town square, full of chatter, instead of staying on their farmsteads. Their thin voices filled the air. The youngest children were kept close while the teens clustered in protective packs far enough away to keep their discussions out of reach of their parents’ ears. But close enough to be in sight at all times. None of them wandered off. 

Three times a day they filled the Temple, ready to hear his words. Faces tilted up to him. Man and woman, young and old. And none of his parishioners would confess why they were so filled with the Holy Spirit that they were neglecting their farms. They were afraid of speaking blasphemy. But he knew the reason, and it caused a lift in his heart that was not due to religious inspiration. They were scared, plain and simple, and it gave him hope. 

Since being assigned to the far parish almost five years ago, a posting he saw as an end to the upward progress of his career in the Temple, he struggled daily to swallow his disappointment. It wouldn’t leave, and it was bitter. Bitter. 

In this remote village, far from the bustle and industry of Chiaroscuro, the quality of his life, the texture of his life, changed. He longed for life in the city. The world seemed to have shifted into two zones. The pace of life for the city dwellers increased while people living in the countryside were being left behind. 

Time’s arrow struck fastest through the densest populations. Sacerds assigned to any of the major cities made more connections and accumulated more power in a single week than he did in a year. Exerting influence was impossible when the spheres of power were spinning outside of his reach, moving too fast for him to see, let alone have an impact. 

The wound to his pride stung the most. The elders had hurt his feelings. To be dismissed so easily, passed along so casually—it was like the swatting of an annoying insect. The Temple elders did not treat him as if he mattered, as if his family ties were consequential. True he was a third son, but of a noble line. And they assigned him to a rustic Temple to attend to common folk far below his station. 

Very little was required of him here. Or, more precisely, very little of what he did here interested him. He burned to return to the central Temple and to be part of the intrigues and power shifts. This attracted him more than caring for the simple souls of farmers and shopkeepers. Power was why he joined the Temple, and what he was now denied. 

But not for long. The thought clanged in his mind with undeniable rightness. Not righteousness. It was an important distinction. Would the Goddess sanction his actions? Probably not, but he was past caring about her approval. During all of the ceremonies, all of the prayer and introspection, he had never felt any divine presence. He had never witnessed any miracles, and doubted their existence. 

But power, oh he had seen the existence of power. Political. Social. Religious. Whatever you called it really didn’t matter. Get enough people to follow you. Enough people to believe in what you were selling. This was the belief that could move the world. 

There was only one woman in his life he needed to please now, and she held no divinity. Merci had offered him a way out of this rural purgatory, and he had accepted. Truth be told, he had grabbed at it like a castaway might grab at a line from a passing airship. If the price were the damnation of his soul, so be it. 

He glanced out the window at the transport coming down the lane. A high quality clockwork carriage with the Temple’s Crest stamped on the doors rattled over the boards strewn across the irrigation ditch and stopped, parking in the speckled light cast by the ornament trees planted along the lane. The carriage blocked traffic, but the driver did not seem to care. Elder members of the clergy, Hlytere, and above, felt they had the right of way. Others had to go around. 

A pale, dark-haired woman emerged and stood for a moment looking around. She pulled the hood of her dark cloak over her hair and walked through the yard toward the Temple. Ernest’s gaze followed her, trying to imagine who this stranger was. 

Her footsteps sounded in the aisle and, when he turned from window, she was almost upon him. Her speed startled him. When he saw her face to face he realized she was younger than he had supposed. Too young to be a Hlytere, but her use of the carriage meant she was favored by the Temple elders. The seed of jealousy radiated through him. He felt it in his chest and the pit of his stomach. He struggled to keep the emotion off his face. “Greetings.” He shook her hand with a firm grasp. Her hands were small and smooth and white. “Will you come in for a moment?” He led her to the small reception room off the main area that contained a round table and several wooden chairs. He lit a cheroot, offered her one, which she declined, and they sat down. 

“Please forgive me for calling on you so close to mid-day Services, Sacerd Ernest.” She paused. “You are Sacerd Ernest, correct? It’s not like me to presume.” 

“Of course. I’m glad you came. I watched you drive up, you know, and I wondered who you were. We don’t get many visitors from the Temple here.” 

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize me, cousin. Of course, I didn’t recognize you. So perhaps it’s not so surprising.” 

“I’m sorry. I …” 

“I’m from the cadet line of our family tree. My father is the elder son of the younger son of our line.” 

His brow creased in thought. “Grace?” 

“Yes,” she said with a smile, reaching out to touch his hand. Her fingers rested there for a moment too long. Lingered. And then she leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs, which were slim and bare beneath her robe. 

Sacerd Ernest regarded his guest, wondering that her physical presence should suddenly dawn upon him so. She was more beautiful than he had thought at first. Her skin was clear and lovely, and her eyes and mouth were made up carefully and well. 

What’s her game? He licked at the perspiration that appeared upon his upper lip. 

“I would like your help in a small matter. And of course I wanted to meet you.” 

“You did?” 

“Our sponsor has spoken of you with such affection.” 

“Our superior?” He used the wrong word to see if she would correct him. 

“Technically, I suppose, she may be yours. I’ve never thought much of the rules of hierarchy in the Temple.” She cocked her head, listening to noises from the other room. Some of his parishioners had started to file in for the service. “It’s such a mercy, isn’t it?’ 

Ah, code words. 

She must think she’s being clever, although he had no idea who could possibly overhear their conversation. It was only just dawning on him why she must be here. In his town. In his Temple. But he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was get out of Grand Marsh. Get back to Chiaroscuro. It didn’t bother him that people, his parishioners, may die, or suffer a fate worse than death. He just wanted to get out. 

It’s not my fault if I’m following orders. 

But that was a poor excuse, wasn’t it? Guilt flared, hot and strong. 

Do you want to stay in Grand Marsh forever? Ministering to the townsfolk? Do you? 

No … but he didn’t want to hurt people. Those conflicting thoughts pulled at him. There was the question of right and wrong. What was right for him might go wrong for others. But that was the way it had to be. 

Thus he banished the guilt. When something inside of him tried to protest again, tried to tell him to think before he did this, he smothered it. 

“When?” He didn’t have any time for nonsense. The quicker it occurred, the quicker he resumed his rightful place. 

“In two days. I have some items in my transport that need to be set up in the Temple, but kept out of view.” She smiled and spoke a little louder so that the earliest arrivals overheard her. “I wish I could stay to help with the Mass, but I am needed back in Chiaroscuro.” She lowered her voice. “Officially I never left the city.” 

“Of course.” He guessed that she had no desire to partake in the service. “I will help you with whatever you need.” Whatever may come of it, he had gone too far to stop now.

 Meet the Author:

Chris Pavesic lives in the Midwestern United States and loves Kona coffee, fairy tales, and all types of speculative fiction. Between writing projects, Chris can most often be found reading, gaming, gardening, working on an endless list of DIY household projects, or hanging out with friends.

Find Chris Pavesic Online:

Website
Amazon Author Page
Facebook Author Page
Tweets @chrispavesic

The Importance of Downtime for Writers and Discovering New Books…

The East Coast of NewfoundlandIn August 2018, one of the trips on my bucket list was checked off. Along with my hubby, son and his significant other, my brother and his wife, we headed out to Newfoundland for a week of fun, sun, and relaxation. Okay, so there was some sun, and the weather wasn’t too bad (glad I packed pants and a warm coat), but the experience proved to be unforgettable. It’s true what they say about Newfoundlanders. They’re friendly, accommodating, warm, and welcoming! Especially on George Street in St. John’s…
I’ve written about why writers need R&R before, and you can read that post HERE. Taking breaks between your writing projects and tasks is so important for writers. It gives your brain time to slow down, and quit thinking about what’s on your writer’s to-do list next. It’s important to recharge and take some time away from the keyboard, and I did just that when I went to visit Canada’s Rock.
Getting Screeched-In at Christian's Pub on George StreetAmong the things we did were whale watching (what a treat!) and seeing the too-many-to-count puffins dive-bomb us in the excursion boat. We also went hunting for the last iceberg on the east coast and managed to find it, though it seemed a shadow of its former self. And the scenery! Well, it truly is breath-taking! I can only imagine what greeted the Vikings when they discovered this carbon copy of their homeland. Most of us got screeched-in (makes you an honorary Newfoundlander) through a special ceremony that you get to kiss a cod fish and drink a shot of screech. Still cringing.
I was lucky enough to meet a fellow author at the Inn we were staying at, and we conversed about the joys and perils of publishing. The author’s name is Andrew Peacock and he is a bit of a celebrity around Newfoundland. Now a retired veterinarian, Andrew wrote about his adventures (and misadventures) being the only veterinarian for miles around. Originally from Ontario, Andrew figured he and his wife, Ingrid would only be staying in Newfoundland briefly. Turns out he was wrong about the duration, and three decades later he and his wife still live on the Rock. Curious as to Andrew’s story, I bought a signed hardcover book, Creatures of the Rock , and immersed myself into his world. It was the perfect pick for the downtime I needed, and many of the places he mentions, I got to visit firsthand. So, I thought I’d share this gem with you.
About the book:
When you’re the only veterinarian in an area that’s 130 miles long and has a coast on either side, you never know what each new day might bring. A cow giving birth, a colicky horse, an aggressive lynx, caribou in need of pastures new, a polar bear in a bingo hall, a six-hundred-pound boar who won’t like what you’ve been asked to do to him… The only constants for Andrew Peacock are his faithful dog and his passion for his work.
When Andrew Peacock made the move from Ontario to Newfoundland, he thought he was kicking off his career as a newly qualified veterinarian with a brief adventure in a novel location. Turns out he was wrong about the duration—he is still in Newfoundland three decades later.  But it has certainly been an adventure. A whole series of adventures.
In his immense new practice—half the Avalon Peninsula—Andrew was the only vet for miles around, visiting patients (and their owners) on farms, in homes and zoos, and in the wild. 
A day’s work could include anything from performing a Caesarian section on a cow in a blizzard, to pursuing a moose on the loose, to freeing a humpback whale from a trap designed for cod. And, on the human side, anything from trying to impress a surprisingly large audience of farmers with your first boar castration, to taking care of the distressed owners of a stricken cat, to discouraging farm hands from helping themselves to hypodermic needles. 
All this against the background of a domestic scene in which Andrew's wife Ingrid—also freshly qualified, as a “human doctor”—shares the adventure of making a new life, fitting in to a well-established community, and in due course of starting a family.
Andrew Peacock is a born vet, devoted to the care of animals, and in constant wonder as an observer of their lives.  Luckily for the rest of us, he is a born storyteller, too. Creatures of the Rock is a funny, thrilling, unflinching but ultimately heartwarming collection of tales about the connections between people and animals, and people with each other.
Sounds like an interesting read, right? In a way, Peacock’s novel is reminiscent of the book, All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot. Incidentally, Herriot started writing his books when he was fifty, and penned fifteen books in the time that he could wrest away from his practice. They sold 50 million copies in 20 countries. But he continued his veterinary practice long after his books made him famous, and once said, “If a farmer calls me with a sick animal, he couldn’t care less if I were George Bernard Shaw.” I truly believe Mr. Peacock is in good company here.
If you’re an animal lover, I urge you to pick up either Andrew Peacock’s memoir, or check out James Herriot’s wonderfully written books that also spawned a long-running television series. Although my novel, Lost and Foundis about a teenager possessing the psychic ability to talk to animals, my hope is that it brings awareness to the plight and needs of animal shelters, sanctuaries, and rescues everywhere. Have you ever discovered a great book or met an interesting author while on vacation or taking some downtime? Would love to read your input and comments. Cheers, and thank you for spending time with me by reading my blog!

Love is in the Kitchen with a Free Cookbook Offer: Sweets and Treats for Someone Special…

Remember the old adage, ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’? There may be some truth to that, though I would update the phrase to say, ‘The way to a person’s heart is through his or hers’ stomach’. After all, food is an intimate experience. Good food creates memories, forges friendships, makes the heart grow fonder, and makes for good dinner table conversations. And food is one of the ways you can show someone that you care for them.
If the thought of cooking a romantic meal or baking a sweet treat for your true love makes you tingly all over, then have I got a gift for you! Cue a romantically-inspired cookbook written by the following fourteen proficient and prolific authors, of various ages and genres: Marci Boudreaux, Carol Browne, HL Carpenter, Sara Daniel,  C.D. Hersh, Vonnie Hughes, Alicia Joseph, Emma Lane, Lizzie T. Leaf, Sharon Ledwith, Susan Lodge, Anne Montgomery, Chris Pavesic, and Sloane Taylor. These wonderful writers have created an array of tantalizing recipes that will make your loved ones beg for more, and even offer to wash those dirty dishes.
Sweets and Treats for Someone Special is your go-to recipe book for entertaining on Valentine’s Day, hosting bridal showers and engagement parties, or celebrating that special event with your true love. Compiled by Sloane Taylor—a gourmet cook in her own right—and designed by mother-daughter duo HL Carpenter, the included recipes offer a wide variety of mouth-watering treats, indulgences, and meals to satisfy your loved ones’ cravings and insatiable hunger.
Oh, and did I mention that it is FREE? 
So why not have your just desserts? Literally. You’ve got nothing to lose and sultry memories to gain when you download Sweets and Treats for Someone Special. There’s a recipe for even the fussiest lover in your life. Give yourself a gift during the season of love with a sensual cookbook from fourteen writers who would love nothing more than to share their favorite recipes, and fulfill your deepest desires. Bon Appetit!
Download your FREE cookbook at Smashwords, and Amazon

Come Celebrate my Birthday with a 99¢ Sale on ALL my Ebooks…

It’s that time again. You know, when Mr. Groundhog awakens on February 2nd to see if he can spot his shadow or not. Well, while he’s checking out to see if we’ll have an early spring or not, I’m kicking off my annual birthday celebration by doing something a little different this year. Starting February 2nd and running until the end of the month, ALL my ebooks will be on sale for only 99 cents through Mirror World Publishing, and all major online stores! Yup, you read that right! If you haven’t read any of my books in The Last Timekeepers young adult time travel adventure series or Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls teen psychic mystery series, please consider filling up your ereader devices with one, two, or all of my books for under $5.
BONUS: If you’d rather crack open a real book, Mirror World Publishing has graciously lowered the prices on The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis and Lost and Found paperbacks. This deal is only available on their website.
To make it easier, below is a list of all my ebooks, and the online store buy links:
The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis (Book #1):

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING: http://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/products/the-last-timekeepers-and-the-arch-of-atlantis
AMAZON.COM: http://www.amazon.com/Last-Timekeepers-Arch-Atlantis/dp/1987976037/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=&qid=
KOBO: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-CA/ebook/the-last-timekeepers-and-the-arch-of-atlantis-2https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/the-last-timekeepers-and-the-arch-of-atlantis-2
BARNES & NOBLE: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-last-timekeepers-and-the-arch-of-atlantis-sharon-ledwith/1107106917?ean=9781987976045
Legend of the Timekeepers (prequel):
MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING: http://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/collections/fantasy/products/legends-of-the-timekeepers-ebook
AMAZON.COM: http://www.amazon.com/Legend-Timekeepers-Sharon-Ledwith/dp/1987976053/ref=sr_1_3_twi_2_pap?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1437067767&sr=1-3&keywords=Sharon+Ledwith
KOBO: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/legend-of-the-timekeepers-2
 BARNES & NOBLE: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/legend-of-the-timekeepers-sharon-ledwith/1116790991?ean=9781987976052

The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret (Book #2):

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING: http://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/collections/poetry/products/the-last-timekeepers-and-the-dark-secret-ebook
AMAZON.COM: https://www.amazon.com/Last-Timekeepers-Dark-Secret-ebook/dp/B01L9UHCFA/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1472938586&sr=1-1#nav-subnav
KOBO: https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/the-last-timekeepers-and-the/9781987976199-item.html?ikwid=Sharon+Ledwith&ikwsec=Home&ikwidx=4  BARNES & NOBLE: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/mobile/w/the-last-timekeepers-and-the-dark-secret-sharon-ledwith/1124513193;jsessionid=1499A28F3D09694F1DD7B340A0024BEE.prodny_store01-atgap08?ean=9781987976199
Lost and Found, Book One: Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls:
MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING: https://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/collections/poetry/products/lost-and-found-ebook
AMAZON.COM: https://www.amazon.com/Found-Mysterious-Tales-Fairy-Falls-ebook/dp/B0713S1DCR/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1493565088&sr=1-1&keywords=Lost+and+Found+Sharon+Ledwith

KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/lost-and-found-175
BARNES & NOBLE: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lost-and-found-sharon-ledwith/1126287196?ean=9781987976281

This amazing deal won’t last long! Plus, I can’t think of a better way to ride out the forecast that Mr. Groundhog gives us than relaxing with a good ebook (or paperback), a comfortable chair, and cozy blanket. Keep warm, and I hope you get to escape to the past and have a blast with one of my books! Cheers and thank you!

Not-Your-Usual-Caramel Corn...

Presentation suggestionThis version of caramel corn is truly the easiest, and most foolproof recipe you’ll ever find. Package this treat for gifts to friends and neighbors during the holiday season, and you’ll be the most popular person on the street. Perfect for stocking stuffers, giving to your special Valentine or hostess gifts too! Tie a bag of caramel corn to a bottle of wine, or fill a decorated mason jar for party favors. The gift-giving possibilities are endless!

What You Need:

7 quarts plain popped popcorn
2 cups dry roasted peanuts or cashews or your favorite nuts, optional
2 cups brown sugar
½ cup light corn syrup
1 cup margarine
1 tsp. salt
½ tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. vanilla extract

What You Do:

PREHEAT oven to 250° F (120° C).

PLACE popped popcorn into two shallow greased baking/roasting pans. Add the peanuts or your choice of nuts (mix’em up if you wish) to the popcorn. Set aside.

COMBINE brown sugar, corn syrup, margarine, and salt in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring enough to blend. Boil for 5 minutes. Stir constantly.

REMOVE from heat. Stir in baking soda and vanilla. The mixture will be light and foamy. Immediately pour over the popcorn in the pans, and stir to coat. Don’t worry too much at this point about getting all of the popcorn coated.

BAKE for 1 hour, removing the pans and giving them a good stir every 15 minutes. Line the counter top with waxed paper. Dump the popcorn out onto the waxed paper and separate the pieces.

ALLOW to cool completely, then store in airtight containers or resealable bags.

So while the corn is cooling, and maybe you're doing a few taste tests, why not relax on the couch, and visit the small, tourist town of Fairy Falls, starting with Lost and Found , Book #1 of Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls? Just don’t forget the bug spray...

YA Book Tour: Shadow Walker, Book 1 in the Shadow Walker Trilogy by Tiffany Shand...

Shadow WalkerShadow Walker Trilogy, Book 1Tiffany Shand

About Shadow Walker:
After her enforcer teammates are killed in a bust gone wrong, Denai witch Charlie McCray struggles to carry on working the job without them. Using her gift of communicating with the dead, she's determined to get justice and find those responsible no matter what. But her only clue to go on is a mysterious orb with a deadly reputation that everyone wants to get their hands on.
The only one who may be able to help her figure out their deaths, and the connection to the orb is the dark and sexy demon from her past. Convinced she's his life mate, to her denial, Charlie isn't happy to see him again. Can they really work together as partners to track down the truth whilst ignoring the ever-growing attraction between them?
Genres: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Length: 111 pgs.
Excerpt #4:Someone grabbed her, pulling her backwards, clamping a hand over her mouth and wrenching her arms behind her. Her phone clattered onto the pavement. I don’t need this today! He pulled her gun from its holster, out of her reach. She tried to yank her arms free, but his grip proved too strong for her.A flash of Nat’s smiling face then the burst of blue light ran through her mind. Charlie threw her head back, knocking into his jaw, then slammed her boot down on his foot. The man grunted but didn’t loosen his grip.Charlie drew in a breath, reached for magic. Light shimmered over her as she fazed out of his grasp. She hit the ground hard as her body became solid and rolled away as her attacker made another grab for her.“Come here, witch!” Charlie took another breath, vanishing into the concrete beneath her. A world of grey swallowed her up, she could see every inch of dirt and cement surrounded her like tiny molecules of darkness. Her heart thundered inside her ears as panic took over. Light flashed, the roar of the bomb going off.
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Meet the Author:

Tiffany Shand started writing short stories when she was a child. She has always done writing in one form or another and started writing novels in her early teens.

Tiffany loves to read books and discovered her love for fantasy and paranormal romance. She writes both non-fiction and fiction, and love helping writers to build their author platforms.

After doing a creative writing course in her early 20s, she is now a freelance writer and professional editor.

Tiffany lives in Essex with her family and two very spoiled cats.

Find Tiffany Online:

Tiffany’s Website

Tiffany’s blog

Facebook

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The Power of Stories of Hope by Dianna Gunn...

The world today is awash in grim dark fantasy and dystopian science fiction, and we're sure to see an even bigger surge in both genres now that we've entered the era of Trump and Brexit. I personally know half a dozen authors who have been inspired to write new dystopian stories, including myself 

Keeper of the Dawn, my debut YA fantasy novella, is a different kind of story. It is a story of hope. There are many struggles along the way, even periods of hopelessness, but in the end hope always returns.

I don't believe that the timing of my publication is a coincidence. Hope is incredibly precious, and stories of hope are more important now than they have ever been. It is so easy to feel hopeless about everything going on in the world, with governments and corporations working together to destroy our planet and steal our rights. Stories of hope, even fictional ones, help us imagine a brighter future for ourselves.

My wish is that Keeper of the Dawn will remind you there is always hope, even after devastating failures.

All Lai has ever wanted is to become a priestess, like her mother and grandmother before her, in service to her beloved goddess. That's before the unthinkable happens, and Lai fails the trials she's trained for her entire life. She makes the only choice she believes she can: she runs away.

From her isolated desert homeland, Lai rides north to the colder, stranger kingdom of Alanum – a land where magic, and female warriors, are not commonplace.

Here, she hears tales about a mountain city of women guardians and steel forgers, worshipping goddesses who sound very similar to Lai's own. Determined to learn more about these women, these Keepers of the Dawn, Lai travels onward to find their temple. She is determined to make up for her past failure, and will do whatever it takes to join the sacred order.

Falling in love with another initiate wasn't part of the plan.

Keeper of the Dawn is a story of new beginnings, second chances, and the endurance of hope.

EXCERPT

Lai practiced until well after dark, ignoring the call for supper. She tore a massive hole into one of the dummies with a training sword in her rage, but it didn’t make her feel better. She had spent most of her life training for this day, and Kaiden ruined it with a few words about their father.

Eventually she gave up and collapsed in a heap on the ground, pulling her knees up to her chest so she could rest her chin on them. She forced herself to breathe deeply, using all her willpower to push the rage into the ground. Bit by bit it drained into the soil around her, dispersing harmlessly.

She sat like that in the clearing until clouds engulfed the stars and rain started pouring, one of the last rains before the dry weeks of summer. Lifting the hood of her robes to cover her head, she rose and hurried towards the temple.

Her left foot caught on something and Lai flew through the air, losing her grip on her sword and landing face first in a puddle. Her nose shattered when it smashed into the tough ground, and when she grabbed it to feel the damage her hand came away covered in equal parts mud and blood. Her stomach churned as she picked herself back up, her whole body aching.

Something sharp pierced her back, tearing into her skin and muscles like sharp fire. She screamed and fell face first to the ground. She caught herself on her forearms, avoiding bashing her head against the rocky path.

Lai's attacker pulled the knife out of her shoulder. She screamed as warm blood flowed freely down her back, mixing with the rain. Fiery agony filled her body, blurring her vision. She gritted her teeth and flipped over to face her attacker.

She froze at the familiar sight of white robes with golden cuffs. Another initiate. Her hood hid her face completely.

Lai gathered her strength with a deep, ragged breath and reached for her training sword. The initiate kicked Lai in the back then stomped on her wrist, grinding bone under her boot, sending sharp waves of pain up Lai’s arm.

“You understand, it has to be me.”

Lai knew that voice, but she couldn’t focus on it through the pain, couldn’t remember who it was. 

The initiate seized a clump of Lai’s hair and yanked her head backwards. She knelt and raised her knife towards Lai’s exposed throat.

Something knocked the initiate into Lai’s back. Black spots appeared at the edges of her vision as agony surged outward from her wound. The other initiate didn’t move, suffocating Lai with her weight. Lai tried to lift herself up with her elbows, but a fresh wave of pain knocked the wind out of her. She col¬lapsed onto her stomach and closed her eyes, willing her body to die quickly.

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Dianna L. Gunn is a young Canadian author who just release her debut novella Keeper of the Dawn. Passionate, hopeful, magical Keeper of the Dawn is a story of new beginnings, second chances, and the endurance of hope.

Dianna L. Gunn is a freelance writer by day and a fantasy author by night. She had known she wanted to be a writer since she was eight years old. Dianna wrote her first novel for Nanowrimo at the age of eleven years old, but quickly discovered that writing books is not an easy way to make a living. So she decided to broaden her horizons, seeking another career that still allowed her to work with words.

Her freelance writing career started when she became a marketing intern at Musa Publishing(now defunct) in September 2011 and quickly became a staff writer in charge of multiple imprint blogs. Since then she has worked with a variety of small businesses and non-profits to improve their online brands and create long term marketing strategies. Some of her most notable work has been for the tech education non-profit STEAMLabs and natural dog care company ProPooch . She is dedicated to helping her clients build successful brands and making their dreams come true.

Need help creating awesome content for your business? Send an email to diannalgunn@gmail.com explaining what your needs are, and she will help you.

When she isn’t helping her clients bring their dreams to life, Dianna can be found working on her own dream of being a successful fantasy author.

Dianna blogs about writing, creativity, and books at The Dabbler . Learn more about Dianna on Facebook and follow her on Twitter .