Lia Davis's Blog, page 31
November 22, 2014
Saturday snippet
It’s finally Saturday! What are your weekend plans? It’s almost Thanksgiving, so if you’re travelling early for the holiday, have safe travels! I’ve got one final excerpt of Touch of Desire to share with you. Also, I’ll be drawing the winner on Monday for the release week giveaway. Enter now and read Chapter 1 here.
The familiar scent of spring lilies invaded Torin’s senses, enticing and alluring. His wolf began to pace and whimper when the man made no move toward the door their female stood behind. Why would she seek him out here of all places?
The door to the new temporary computer central opened, and the scent intensified. Turning toward the entrance, he met the stare of his mate and instantly grew hard. Whether Cora knew she belonged to him or not, he remained uncertain. He’d known since she’d come of age at eighteen. Though he had every intension of claiming her, he and his wolf had to wait until she came out of her grieving period over the loss of her family.
He ground his molars together and inhaled deeply through his nose. Felix and his band of fucked up minions were going to pay. Someday, somehow. Torin was going to be there to witness the fall.
Straightening fully, he studied her. Strawberry blonde curls fell in unruly waves around her shoulders as if she rolled out of bed. Maybe she had. He roamed his gaze over the rest of her. She wore a faded pair of gray sweatpants and a pink tee with a coffee stain above the hem. His cock hardened even more, pressing painfully into the zipper of his jeans.
She held onto their eye contact for only a brief moment, but long enough for him to see the distress and sadness she fought to hide from the world.
He stalked toward her, and, when he got within a foot from her, she retreated a step. Then Keegan flattened a hand on his chest. Torin glanced down at the leopard’s hand, then met his stare. “What’s up?”
Keegan chose to answer him telepathically—a skill the former Alpha shared with all the enforcers and sentries. I know she’s your mate, but she needs time.
I’ll give it to her, but she needs….
She needs to heal and become independent. If you push her, she’ll run.
Torin let out a low growl, then focused on Cora. She watched them as if expecting an attack. Sighing, he dropped his shoulders and held out his hand. “Good morning. What has you so upset?”
“Just a dream. What are you doing?” She indicated Alec and the five-screen computer system.
After a quick glance over his shoulder, he studied her closer. Her attention focused on Alec and the monitors. “He’s trying to figure out the new security layout, but he’s not having much luck.”
“Fuck you, Tor. If it was easy, they wouldn’t need me and Dane to work on it,” Alec growled.
Torin laughed. “He’s having so much fun. You should stay and join us.”
“I think I will.” Cora pushed past him to stand next to Alec at the computer.
Torin stared, shocked her sudden change in mood and interest in what Alec was doing. A low growl rumbled from his chest. He meant it as a joke, not expecting her to give her attention to another male. His wolf paced and snarled, demanding Torin grab her and leave the building.
November 20, 2014
Touch of Desire teaser
To celebrate Touch of Desire’s release this week, I’m posting fun excerpts. Don’t forget, Chapter 1 is also posted, along with a #giveaway; make sure to read and enter.
Today’s teaser excerpt brings us some sexy teasing…
Cora exited the room with her heart pounding in her throat. Pressing her back to the wall, she closed her eyes. Every nerve sparked like a live wire under her skin. Torin’s presence was too intense in large doses. Now she was going to have breakfast with him.
She opened her eyes the moment he followed her out into the hallway. He stopped in front of her and braced one hand beside her head. Not exactly trapping her, but close enough. Remembering to breathe, she tried not to shake. His cool, mint scent enveloped her, taunted her, and made her ache in all the right places.
When he dipped his head, she held her breath. Kissing him would be too much, would break her more than she was already broken. Because it’d been too long since she allowed skin-to-skin contact with a male—or any contact with anyone except the occasional casual touch between friends.
“What is your favorite food?”
She let out the breath she held. “Pizza.”
Good one, Cora. How old are you again?
“I love pizza.”
She met his desire-hazed stare, but was able to hold it for only a moment before her wolf whimpered. “No, you don’t.”
Her eyes widened, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. Before this, she’d only sassed off to her brother in a show of play between his cat and her wolf. Tears stung as they pooled, then spilled over her lashes. She squeezed her eyelids shut. Jason.
Torin’s warm fingers stroked her cheek, then swiped a tear that escaped. A moment later, she was pulled into his arms, and she buried her face in his shirt.
“Hey.” He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. She lowered her lids because it hurt too much to meet his stare, his power. “Cora, look at me.”
He didn’t command it. In fact, she swore she heard a plea in his tone. She met his gaze and, for the first time, truly saw how beautiful his silver eyes were.
“I can’t—”
With a press of his lips to her, he cut off her objection. Sensation, heat, and desire rolled through her. Her legs went weak, and her pussy ached even as her panties went damp. She flattened her hands on his chest and realized too late the additional contact was a mistake. Tingles of electrical current passed between them, igniting a wildfire inside her.
November 14, 2014
#BBFSpecFic Day 5: Author Diantha Jones
When did you start writing?
I started writing (seriously) in 2010 after I realized my life was not headed in the direction I’d planned for it to go, and there was a good chance it never would. Looking back, I’m so glad I made that wrong turn.
What inspires your writing?
The Quiet. Noise distracts, but in the silence, there are endless possibilities and an entire plane for your imagination to play around in. There’s nothing I enjoy more than letting my imagination run buck wild.
What is the best part about being a writer?
The Tingle. You know, that feeling in your stomach when you’re about to release a new book or have just come up with your next project. The feeling never disappoints and never gets old.
Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (Oracle of Delphi #1)
Fantasy (Mythology) | Young Adult
She has a destiny so great that even the gods fear her.
Constant hallucinations and the frequent conversations with the voices in her head, have earned eighteen-year-old Chloe Clever the not-so-coveted title of “Whack Job” in her home town of Adel, Georgia. Fed up with prescription meds and therapists, she wishes for a life where she is destined to be more than the butt of everyone’s jokes and mockery.
Be careful what you wish for has never rung more true.
After a vicious attack and learning that her favorite rockstar is an Olympian god, she is thrust into her new life as the Oracle of Delphi, the prophesier of the future. Setting out to fulfill the prophecy she has been given, Chloe learns of how great she is to become, all the while fighting mythical monsters and trying to outwit the ever-cunning Greek gods who harbor secrets of their own. While on a mission to discover the Most Beautiful, she strives to uncover the mysteries of the demigod Prince who has sworn to protect her with his life…and threatens to win her heart in the process.
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Prophecy of the Most Beautiful Excerpt
Another three blizzard-filled hours passed before their help arrived.
“Och! Check this out!” Ace exclaimed. He had been leading the group through a tight thicket of snow-covered trees. Spotting something up ahead, he took off running.
“What the…hey! Wait for me!” Swindle exclaimed and sprinted off behind him, Bill flying overhead. Soon, they were all running to see what Ace had found.
“Thank the gods!” Dropper exclaimed as they emerged from the grove. Chloe bit her lip to keep from screaming with relief herself. Way to go, Apollo.
It was a cabin, logged and sealed in the corners with bricks. It had a timber wood porch surrounding three sides and a brick chimney spouting puffs of smoke. Flickering light spilled out of the cabin’s tiny windows, promising safety and warmth on the other side. The others whooped loudly and leapt up the porch stairs.
Strafford stopped her when she tried to follow them. “Why did you ask him for help?”
How did he know?
She tried her best to pull away from him, but he wasn’t letting go of her arm. “It’s cold,” she snapped, “and it’s snowing! We were freezing to death out there!”
“Bah!” Strafford grunted, releasing her. “They’re demigods! They weren’ gonna freeze to death, Red!”
That ticked her off. “I’m not a demigod! Dropper isn’t a demigod!”
“So it’s abou’ tha’ wanker, eh?”
“Jealous, much? And what’s your problem anyway? You can’t expect everyone else to hate your dad just because you do!”
He groaned and pulled her by the back pocket of her jeans as she tried to storm away. “This isn’t abou’ me and Apollo, Red. This is abou’ you makin’ decisions without askin’ me first.”
“I don’t have to ask you for permission to do anything!” She tried to walk away but he yanked her back, this time cupping her bottom with his hand to keep her in place. If she hadn’t been so flustered, she might’ve slapped him, but…
“You do need my permission, Red,” he said, his face close to hers. “And if you’d consulted with me before you decided to ask a favor from a god without a tribute, I would’ve told you how stupid of an idea tha’ was. Gods don’t do anythin’ without expectin’ somethin’ in return.” He let his voice drop a level. “And now you’re in a god’s debt. And believe me, Red, Apollo will collect on it, and you’ll be questionin’ whether the favor was worth it when it’s time to pay up.”
Author Bio:
Diantha was born on Thanksgiving Day so that explains why her mother calls her a “turkey.” She spent the first 16 years of her life as an official Army brat (now she’s a retired one), and has spent the last twelve years living in Georgia (Atlanta, then Savannah). She now resides in Washington D.C. She loves to read and watch movies (Quentin Tarantino is her fave director), and she loves cold weather and french fries (with cheese if possible).
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November 13, 2014
#BBFSpecFic Day 4: Author Robin Lythgoe
When did you start writing?
When I was a child—but I didn’t get serious about it until my second child was born. I suffered Bookus Interruptus until I kicked that sorry disease to the curb.
What inspires your writing?
What doesn’t? Music—yes, most especially—and chocolate, movies, books, the news, pictures, conversations… I love that inspiration is all around me, and all I have to do is open my eyes, pick something, and turn it over in my head until my imagination grabs it and runs like crazy.
What is the best part about being a writer?
Exercising my imagination and creativity. What a blast!
Is there something special or unique about you or your book you’d like to tell us about?
I am evidently fluid in the language of Snark. And so is Crow, the main character of my book!
As the Crow Flies
Fantasy | Adult
For a thief, getting caught is never a good thing. Getting caught by a wizard is even worse.
‘One more job’ meant that Crow, a notorious thief, could retire with Tarsha, the woman of his dreams, but ‘one more job’ may just mean his life.
When he sets out to abscond with that last brilliant treasure and seek a life of ease and pleasure with the jewel of his heart, Crow seriously underestimates his mark, the Baron Duzayan. Under threat of death by poison, Crow is coerced into stealing an improbable, mythical prize. To satisfy the wizard’s greed and save the life of his lady love, he must join forces with Tanris, the one man he has spent his entire career avoiding.
But what’s a man to do when stealing that fabled prize could level an empire and seal his fate?
From a dungeon black as night, to the top of a mountain peak shrouded in legend, a man’s got to do what he must.
Until, of course, he can think of a better plan…
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As the Crow Flies Excerpt
I had scarcely stepped out into the street with my handsome new acquisition when I was abruptly and rudely accosted. Two hulking pieces of manhood caught me by either arm, and I nearly lost both my hat and the burlap sack of supplies I carried. Lifting me right off my feet didn’t trouble either of them, and while they whisked me off down the street, I took a moment to recover my breath, my composure—more or less—and to study their identities. “Do I know the two of you?” I inquired politely while they plowed through puddles I would have chosen to go around. The first splash caught me rather by surprise, but I had the forethought to lift my feet for the second. No sense getting wetter when there was an alternative.
“Raza wants to have a chat with you,” the bruiser on my right informed me.
“Jolly for him. Would you be so good as to put me down? I think I remember how to walk.”
“We’ll help.”
“You’re too kind. Really.” I looked from one to the other, but they showed no sign of responding to gentle persuasion and we were making good speed down the street in a direction I had no desire to go. So I held on tight to my belongings and stuck my foot between the legs of the less chatty fellow on the left. He went down in a heap, and I went with him, rolling half onto him. The other man swore and scrambled, trying not to fall, too. I helped him out as best I could by swinging my sack at his head. There were a pair of grappling hooks in there, a climbing rope, metal cleats, and other sorts of paraphernalia a thief might find handy on the job. It knocked him backside over teakettle, which was rather satisfying and alarming at the same time.
Both my delight and my worry at the damage a hook might have caused were arrested by an arm around my throat.
Author Bio:
Robin Lythgoe was born in Maryland, but spent several years in Oregon and did a short stint in upstate New York before moving to Utah. She married an artist, and together they have four wonderful children. Reading and writing have always been a part of her life, and she is particularly drawn to fantasy. When she was growing up her mother often led expeditions to the library, from which the entire party invariably returned laden with a stack of books guaranteed to make the arms longer. Robin read everything voraciously, and when she finished her stack, she’d start on her mother’s… and then her sisters’. Today she writes tales about wizards and magic, fantastical places and extraordinary journeys.
Her novel, “As the Crow Flies,” was selected as a Kindle Book Review, 2014 Kindle Book Awards Semifinalist.
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November 12, 2014
#BBFSpecFic Day 3: Author Anya Breton
Supernatural/Paranormal | Adult
Self-proclaimed sorceress Kora Walsh knows exactly how to use her shiny new MBA. She’ll open a new age shop in a colony of the country’s most powerful witches. But the town rife with bigots doesn’t want her or her sleek shop tainting their perfect community.
Kora would leave if she had any choice in the matter. She’s trained from childhood for her true task—infiltrating coven leadership as her mother’s mole. Failure to do her familial duty is not an option, not when her childhood nemesis is assured her failed soul for an eternity of torture.
And thanks to the colony’s loudest supporter, the beautiful Desmond Marino, failure is a very real danger.
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Author Bio:
I was born in New England into a family of weirdoes. Being an only child, I quickly learned to amuse myself with quirky pastimes. It was only inevitable that I’d turn to reading and writing. After writing fanciful (and sickeningly sweet) love stories, I branched out into erotic romance, paranormal romance, young adult, and urban fantasy. I currently reside in the American Midwest with my cats and a good man!
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November 11, 2014
#BBFSpecFic Day 2: Author Tracy Falbe
When did you start writing?
I’ve been writing stories since grade school. In my teenage years I wrote two novels, but I never did anything with them. In 1997, when I was 25 I began writing seriously and produced what became my first novel Union of Renegades. Now all of these years later, I am publishing my tenth novel Journey of the Hunted.
What inspires your writing?
I take my thoughts and feelings from what is happening in the world and what has happened in history and express them through fiction. Big issues like war, slavery, patriarchy, and Nature inspire me. I also like to ponder how people deal with difficult circumstances that demand sacrifices.
What is the best part about being a writer?
I’m so happy that I did not wait for the right time to start writing. So many people put their creative desires aside for responsibilities of career and family life. Perhaps I’ve been irresponsible. I know I’ve made significant financial sacrifices to pursue my art, but, at mid life, it feels so good to have a portfolio of novels out there. I can die knowing I did what I loved. I don’t keep things locked inside me. I craft stories and move farther into my creative journey every year.
Is there something special or unique about you or your book you’d like to tell us about?
I was surprised to discover that very little fiction is set in Renaissance Europe. Except for some novels that revolve around Tudor England, there is almost nothing. Renaissance isn’t even a category for historical fiction that I can find. You’ll see ancient, Medieval, Regency, Victorian, and so forth but no Renaissance.
When you consider how fascinating, transformative, radical, and brutal this era of European history was, it’s a shame more fiction is not set in this period. I know there is a large audience. I’ve enjoyed many Renaissance faires. There is no shortage of people who appreciate this era of history. A good deal of nonfiction is published on the subject, but it deserves fictional exploration as well.
My novels in the Werewolves in the Renaissance series give readers an exciting yet thoughtful way to learn more about this time when our modern institutions were established. Sometimes it’s frightening how little has changed in 500 years!
Journey of the Hunted ( Werewolves in the Renaissance 2)
Fantasy | Adult
Facing uncertain destinies, Thal and Altea must escape Bohemia. The Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand himself has signed the warrant for Thal’s capture on charges of shape shifting and the killing of Jesuits.
A hefty reward attracts countless bounty hunters into the heart of this 16th century Christian empire. Thal emerges from hiding with his young wife Altea who is barely recovered from torture at the hands of witch hunters. With his werewolf powers, he battles the bounty hunters and begins a daring journey across the Holy Roman Empire.
But more than men stalk him. Servants of Tekax, sorcerer to the Turks, have been unleashed upon his trail.
The werewolf Rotfeng covets the enchanted fur that lets Thal change form at will, regardless of the phase of the moon.
Worse yet comes Janfelter, an undying fext created in the dark fortress of Tekax.
These heartless killers are tasked with stopping Thal from reaching his father Sarputeen, the arch nemesis of Tekax. Thal’s only refuge awaits him in what is left of the Kingdom of Hungary after a Turkish conquest. In the remote castle Vlkbohveza the ancient sorcerer Sarputeen lives untouched despite widespread persecution of magic users and pagans.
Although Thal longs to be with his own kind, he worries about the reunion with his father. It was Sarputeen’s magic that made Thal a werelord, a master of wolves. But what shall the sorcerer require of his creation now that Tekax aims to settle an old score?
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Although Journey of the Hunted is the second book in the Werewolves in the Renaissance series, it can be enjoyed as a stand alone novel. You can pick it up and understand it without needing to read the first book Werelord Thal. I’m creating a complete story within each book in the series, so people can enter the adventure at any point.
Cast List for Journey of the Hunted
I prepared this cast list for Journey of the Hunted similar to how characters are listed at the start of Shakespeare plays. I thought this befitting of the story’s setting in the year 1561.
The Cast of Journey of the Hunted
Thal Lesky, a werewolf
Altea Kardas, a confessed witch
Regis, singer and harpist of Venice
Raphael, lutist of Venice
Carlo, zink player of Venice
Mileko, protégé of Sarputeen
Sarputeen, sorcerer and father of Thal
Rotfeng, a werewolf
Petr, a priest
Simona, a priestess
Guther, a bounty hunter
Hammerlith, a miner and dwarf
Tekax, a sorcerer
Janfelter, an assassin
Emil, servant of Sarputeen
Sir Krengar, a knight of Zilina
Karl Thurzo, Duke of Zilina
Author Bio:
Writer of indie fantasy for people who don’t do what they’re told. I live between a little lake and a pond. The water is a great comfort to me. I love both dogs and cats. Writing is my chosen craft, and I’m slowly building a decent little business out of it.
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November 10, 2014
#BBFSpecFic Day 1: Author Garrett Robinson
When did you start writing?
I began writing as a teenager, scribbling fan fiction from my favorite science fiction and fantasy stories. But it took my mother’s passing at the age of 25 to convince me that if I didn’t try, honest to God, to make it as an artist, then it would never happen.
I published my first book in December of 2012, and since then I’ve put out more than a million words in fantasy, sci-fi, thrillers, comedy and horror.
I don’t plan on stopping.
What inspires your writing?
I think the most exciting phrase a writer can ever utter is, “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool if…?”
Ideas are all around us. Sometimes they come from things we wish we saw in the world more often. Sometimes they’re just things that are really, really cool. A girl who sees thoughts when she makes skin contact. A guy who becomes a zombie, but can still think. Kids who become wizards in another world when they sleep. A girl who wants to make it in the big time — but in a fantasy setting.
No idea is a bad story idea. Find out what’s important to you, and construct a story around that.
What is the best part about being a writer?
Anyone who’s published a book knows what a rush it is to hear from your readers. The best writers write from inspiration. They write the sort of story that THEY would want to read. There’s nothing more gratifying than hearing, from a complete stranger no less, that they were personally touched by your book.
Even better is are those who you deeply, truly affect. The best feeling in the world is to hear that a reader can relate to what my character is going through, and that in some small way I helped them through a difficult time. You can’t beat that.
Nightblade
Fantasy | New Adudlt
Everyone begins their life dreaming of the great person they could become, only to have those hopes battered and broken by the world around them. The world tells them they’re not special. Family convinces them to abandon their goals for the safe route, the sure route.
Loren has been born to cruel parents and raised in an obscure village. She’s long resigned herself to an unremarkable life under the sway of a father who beats her and a mother who sees her only as means to a dowry. Loren’s dreams have almost burnt out—until fate rekindles their spark into a flame that will consume the world.
SOMETIMES ALL WE NEED IS A PUSH.
When Loren meets the fugitive wizard Xain, she dares to hope again. Escaping her village, she finds the nine kingdoms more complicated and dangerous than she could have imagined. But at long last, she’s ready to face the challenge or die in the attempt.
Loren has reclaimed her dreams—this time for good. Armed with only her wit and her courage, she will do anything to become the woman she’s always wanted to be: Nightblade, the most renowned thief in all the land.
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Nightblade Special Offer
From November 10th through November 14th, you can pick up Nightblade, the first book of the Nightblade Volumes, for only $0.99 on Kindle! What’s more — if you finish and review Nightblade, I’ll send you a FREE ebook copy of Mystic, the second book in the series! Just fill out the form at http://garrettbrobinson.com/free-mystic.
99 cents and a review — two books. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Nightblade Excerpt
Loren imagined she could feel her father’s eyes on her back as she ran. Her steps came faster and faster still, but soon Xain began to tire and flag behind her. She had to slow her pace to match him, and every step seemed an irredeemable loss.
“You must hurry,” she said. “He will find us.”
Xain did not bother with an answer. He could move no faster, and they both knew it. After a time his ankle caught upon a protruding root and he stumbled, and in that moment her father struck.
He leapt from the shadows between two thick oaks. His hand lashed out, cracking against Loren’s cheek. She fell to the ground with a cry and struggled up before he could pin her down. But he did not come for her. When she rose she saw him atop Xain instead, wrapping an arm around the thinner man’s throat. Xain’s face turned red and edged toward purple. He fought to bring a hand around, scrabbling for her father’s face, but her father caught the hand and twisted it, prompting a screech of agony.
Hearing that cry of pain, Loren’s mind turned to ice. Never had her father hurt another in her presence—except when he fought her mother, and Loren only wanted each to hurt the other as much as possible. But now her father threatened to crush the life from her one chance, the only man who Loren had ever truly thought could save her from the life of pain and obscurity she feared.
Icy rage turned white-hot, and Loren drew the dagger. She leapt at her father with the blade held high. But her father saw her coming and released Xain, scrabbling to his knees and away from her wild swing.
He rose and roared like a bear brought to bay. The sound dampened Loren’s sudden burst of fury, and she hesitated a moment. That moment was enough, and like a snake her father lunged. One hand gripped her wrist to hold the dagger helpless. His other hand curled into a fist that he drove into her face.
Stars erupted at the edge of her vision, and Loren doubled over. Her father squeezed her wrist until the dagger dropped to the grass, then let her follow it. She gasped at the pain in her eye, blinking as she fought to clear her vision.
“Spawn of soiled seed,” said her father. “You have been a plague and a pox upon me since the day you first clawed air into your lungs.”
He kicked her. The hard leather of his boots felt like a tree trunk. She screamed, trying to roll away, but he only kicked her in the back.
She could not see. She could not think. Where was she? Who was this man, and why did he want to hurt her so? Why did some part of her mind scream that he should love her, pick her up and cradle her in his arms and promise to take the pain away? Instead he only gave her more.
Her eyes fell on Xain, who crouched several yards away. The wizard’s lips moved, and his eyes began to glow. He held a hand curled at his side, and Loren saw the flash of fire within it.
“No!” she cried. “Don’t kill him!”
Xain froze. His lips stopped moving, and the fire wisped out in his palm.
The shout drew her father’s gaze. His ugly, beady eyes fell on the wizard, and his lips split in a grimace, revealing spots of blood.
He leapt catlike upon Xain and bore the wizard to the ground. This time he wrapped his hands around Xain’s throat, digging his fingers in deep. Xain’s eyes bugged forth as though they would burst from their sockets. He gasped a phrase, and blue lightning sprang into being, but it vanished before he could unleash it.
Loren’s heart broke. Xain would not have been here if not for her. He might have died on the way to Cabrus, and he might not. But she had brought him to this place and then brought her father’s wrath, and now Xain would die for it.
She could not allow it. She saw the dagger lying near her fingers, and thought of her childish dreams. Nightblade could not allow it.
She fought to her knees. Her bow still hung on her back, and by some grace of the gods its string was whole. Her fingers felt like wood, but she forced them around the bow’s haft and pulled it free. Shakily she brought an arrow to string and half-drew, then took two stumbling steps forward. This time her father had eyes for nothing but Xain.
Loren kicked as hard as she could, and something in her father’s face broke under her boot heel.
He fell away, rolling over and over to put distance between them as he screamed in rage. In a blink he regained his feet, but there he paused. Loren’s arrow rested at full draw, aiming straight for his heart.
Slowly, her father’s hamfist hands came up on either side of his head. For every inch they climbed, the fury in his eyes redoubled.
“No more,” said Loren. It came out as a whisper. “No more will you torment me. I am leaving, father, and I mean never to return.”
“You mean to defy me?” said her father. “You will do your duty as a daughter or—”
She pulled just a little harder on the bow, gaining another inch of draw. Her father’s voice fell to silence.
“You have never done your duty as a father,” she said. “I feel I owe you nothing.”
“You owe me everything,” he said. “I could have killed you in the cradle. I could have killed you when I woke up today, and moved my bowel on your corpse. I made you, and now I see I made you worthless.”
“Then when I leave you shall suffer no great loss,” she said.
She felt that his words should have stung, but she was beyond them. They were only a stronger flavor of the same things he had said all her life. And in this moment, now that another fate beckoned her, she stood under his sway no longer.
Xain had finally regained his breath, and he came to stand at her side. He muttered, and as his eyes glowed white a ball of lightning hovered in his grasp.
“You think you can escape me?” her father said, changing tack. “I learned these lands years before I spilled you between your mother’s legs. Nowhere in Selvan can you hide from me. Ready yourself for sleepless nights by a bright fire. For if you close your eyes in sleep, if for even a moment you let yourself sit in darkness—”
Loren loosed the shaft. It sank into her father’s thigh. He collapsed to the ground without a scream, but with a gut-deep grunt of pain.
“Chase us now,” said Loren.
She turned and walked away from him, stopping for only a moment to retrieve the dagger and replace it in its sheath. She did not turn to see if Xain followed her, but after a moment she heard footfalls behind her.
Her father’s hateful screams followed them for a long while.
Interesting Information about Nightblade
The Nightblade Volumes are a WEEKLY serial — I publish a new 10,000 word episode every Friday at 12:00pm PST. Every eight episodes compose one book, which is published as a complete work in ebook and paperback.
Nightblade is the first book in the series. The second book is Mystic. Those who like Nightblade, and want to keep reading, can go review it on Amazon. If they fill out the form at http://garrettbrobinson.com/free-mystic, I’ll send them an ebook copy of Mystic for FREE.
Readers can also subscribe to the series. For ebook enthusiasts, this is THE CHEAPEST way to read! Pay $2.99 a month, and I’ll send you an episode every week — TWO WEEKS before it’s published to Amazon! It’s cheaper than buying the episodes individually, and it’s even cheaper than buying the volumes!
You can check that out at http://garrettbrobinson.com/nb-sub
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Nightblade is a very special story to me. It comes to me so easily because I feel like I’ve only recently emerged from my own personal journey into adulthood. Though the setting, the place, and the person are different, this is MY story.
I love that the coming of age story is so universal, that you can put it in any setting and any genre and it still works. It doesn’t matter that Harry went to Hogwarts and cast spells (although that was cool). What mattered was that he suffered through what we ALL suffer through — that terrible, wonderful time between childhood and adulthood, when you don’t really know what’s going on and you’re trying to figure it all out.
Loren, the main character of Nightblade, is going through the same thing. Loren has dreams. BIG dreams, dreams she’s never given up on no matter what. Her parents have beaten her and told her she’s worthless. The world has tried to convince her that her goals are hopeless. But the spark won’t die.
I think we’ve all been there at one point. Haven’t you? Some people give up. Who can blame them? It’s a cruel world. It’s certainly easier to give up, to go with the flow. I legitimately cannot fault someone who chooses to do that.
To be perfectly honest, it’s not worth it to keep fighting. You will suffer so much. You will go through so much pain and lose so much that is dear to you. Only the mad even attempt it, because only a tiny portion of them will ever succeed. The rest will die broken and alone in the corners and back alleys of the world.
And yet, we do love the stories about the ones who win.
Author Bio:
Garrett Robinson was born in Los Angeles, California. Throughout his childhood and into adulthood, he was encouraged to learn by his parents, who not only ensured he had access to thousands of books whenever he wanted, but who traveled with him around the world and helped him do so once he was out in the world on his own. Throughout high school, Garrett excelled in creative writing, churning out millions of words and far surpassing all of his classmates.
After school, Garrett discovered a love of, and has had a budding career in the independent film industry. In today’s digital age, however, he has discoverd that new creative models are necessary to succeed. To that end, he has begun turning all of his film ideas into self-published books, in hopes of drumming up support and readership for the stories he has created.
Connect:
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November 7, 2014
99 cent sale! It’s A Vampire Christmas
I’m so excited about my new vampire series and can’t wait to share it with you, my fabulous readers! The first book is It’s A Vampire Christmas. It is a Christmas theme story AND it’s a m/m/f menage. PLUS it’s over 32,000 words! FOR ONLY $0.99!
This sale won’t last long, so be sure to pre-order your copy today.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1rS7gNA
iTunes: http://bit.ly/1rPvAj4
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1x2Zkcx
Still unsure? Here’s an excerpt to help persuade you. 
Meeting at the Coffee Shop
An hour later Gideon sat in a coffee shop across from Rhianna’s apartment building, waiting for the female to make an appearance. He’d give her twenty minutes. Then he was going in. Gideon hated waiting, especially after becoming a vampire. As a human, his life was dedicated to the church and to God’s will. Although after his attack, and then transformation into a vampire, his patience grew thin. He no longer clung to prayer for guidance. No, he learned if he needed something done, he was better off doing it himself.
A brown-haired female exited the building and stopped at the curb, facing his direction. Gideon focused in, making sure it was her. She had a knee-length coat on and a large bag hanging on her shoulder.
When she entered the coffee shop, he froze, unable to take his eyes off her. The scent of roses filled the air —intoxicating. Breathing in her scent, he groaned and rose from his seat to stand in line behind her. The urge to touch her was too powerful. He didn’t even try to stop himself from reaching out to brush his fingers against the ends of her hair.
Fuck. He was acting like a stalker. What the hell?
As if sensing his touch, she turned to face him and frowned. Her eyes flashed with recognition before she turned away. Ah, she knew he was a vampire. Good. Although his race had rules of secrecy and enforced them, there were exceptions to the law. Many vampire lords liked to feed from the source. Inhaling, he bit back an unexpected growl. Her natural rose scent was laced with Julian’s. She had been with the lord recently.
Leaning in, he whispered so only she could hear him. “I believe you have something of mine.”
Spine straightening, she lifted her chin and gave her order to the barista. “Café mocha, please.”
Gideon’s cock hardened at the sound of her voice. Damn. There was only one other time he’d had this reaction to someone. He recognized the mating pull. It had been the same with Alasdair. Could she be their third?
When she moved to the end of the bar, he followed. “I know you have the book.”
She met his gaze. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Liar, liar. “Come now, you knew what I am, and that means you are either playing for my team or the other losers.”
Her lips twitched. “True, but I could have my own agenda.”
The barista placed Rhianna’s latte on the counter. “Have dinner with me.”
November 6, 2014
#CatShifter T-Shirts on sale for a limited time!
I started a brand new Teespring campaign in honor of the release of TOUCH OF DESIRE! Isn’t it purrrdy? 
The campaign ends on Friday, November 21, so be sure to reserve your shirt ASAP. Also share with your friends so the goal is met and everyone gets their shirts.
Calling all big cat shifter lovers. Let everyone know you, too, want your shifter to purr…among other things… with this tee inspired by author Lia Davis’s shifter romance series, #AshwoodFalls and #HarmonySprings.
Order you T-shirt here: http://teespring.com/wantmyshiftertopurr
November 4, 2014
The beginning: It’ll lead you to wonderful things
I love reading and writing series. I love seeing old characters show up in each story and watch them grow. When starting a new series, I almost always start at the beginning. It’s an OCD thing to just start with book 1. Plus the first in the series is the intro into a new world. Sometimes they drag you in and hook you so that you’re stalking online book stores and the author’s site for the next book.
Ashwood Falls isn’t my first series, but it’s one I love revisiting and hope to write in the world for a while. What is the series about? Well, below is the series blurb and the prequel.
Ashwood Falls
There comes a time when setting your differences aside isn’t just necessary, it’s a means of survival. After losing over half of their dens to a group rogue shifters, the wolves and leopards merged as one Pack, but living together is much more of a challenge then they expected.
Winter Eve,
Ashwood Falls prequel
Find it: Amazon | B&N | ARe | Kobo | iTunes
Blurb:
Danica Welsh was born to be the leopard pack healer. An accident involving a drug induced youth left her badly burned and scared—emotionally and physically. Without the ability to heal by touch, she secludes herself to the edge of town, away from Ashwood Falls’ overly concerned citizens. All hope of mating and family become a distance dream. When she finally starts to accepts the long, lonely existence ahead of her, a stranger crashes into her life, and her heart.
After Nevan Mathews’ fiancée died three ago, he submerged himself into his work, cutting off all reminders of a life he dreamed of with the woman he loved. He lets his step-mother talk him into taking the first vacation in five years to visit for the holidays. But an accident delays his travel plans, sending him to Danica’s doorstep and raises a need he thought he would never feel again.
Can they tear down the walls around their hearts and submit to the passion before another claims Dani for his own?
Warning: Contains a shifter who’s scars run deeper than skin, a human who has the heart of a shifter, and a snow storm that’s sure to have them both reaching for warmth.
