Sybrina Durant's Blog, page 265

Journey To Osm – The Blue Unicorn’s Tale Reader Review by Aliva D.

  Journey To Osm – The Blue Unicorn’s Tale
 Reader Review by Aliva DalRae









There should be more books about unicorns!Journey to Osm: The Blue Unicorn’s Tale is an exciting fantasy about a small herd of unicorns who are facing extinction due to the machinations of an evil Sorcerer. Magh is determined to steal the horns and hooves of all unicorns in order to possess their magic. Their only hope for survival lies in the prophesy that foretells of a blue unicorn who will rescue them. Unfortunately for the Metal-Horned Unicorns, the blue foal is born without a metal horn or metal hooves, which means he has no magic. Blue grows up as an outsider, scoffed by his fellow unicorns but determined to someday prove himself. When that time comes, he sets off on a journey of Tolkien proportions, full of challenges and dangers that must be met, or his herd will be doomed.

This story was full of unique magics and harrowing heroism that is sure to warm to the hearts of young readers and even those of us with a few more miles behind us. If you like YA fantasy, you will definitely enjoy Journey to Osm.



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Unicorn Book Feature – Penny White and the Cult of Unicorns by Chrys Cymri

Sybrina’s Unicorn Book Pick



Unicorns!  How we love them. . .Luckily for all of us unicorn lovers there are hundreds of unicorn books available for all age groups.  I have gathered information about as many as I can find and have placed them here for you in one convenient spot on my blog.  Today’s Unicorn Book Feature is







Penny White and the

Cult of Unicorns

 By Chrys Cymri





Raven’s ears flicked. ‘Dragons aren’t known for their patience.’

‘More is the pity,’ said the unicorn. ‘Father Penny and I were about to amicably settle our differences. A dragon invading our home vastly complicates matters.’

Five months ago my life was changed forever when I learned about Lloegyr, the sister nation to England on the magical parallel world of Daear. Thrilling rides on Raven, a darkly beautiful search dragon, break up the monotony of my life as the priest of a small village church. Nor are things dull at home, not with a sarcastic gryphon, a snail shark, and my younger brother all sharing my living space. And then there’s Peter, the almost too perfect police inspector who enjoys Doctor Who and single malt whisky as much as I do.

But Lloegyr is facing its own struggles. As various races such as dragons, gryphons, elves, vampires, and harpies flood to the rapidly growing cities, they all trust the unicorns to act as peace makers. But dead humans are turning up in the city of Northampton, with wounds which only a long spiral horn could have made…

‘A compelling and witty sequel to Temptation of Dragons! Penny is a fantastic heroine because she doesn’t think of herself as such. …Chrys Cymri perfectly captures this blend of humor, honesty, reality, and fantasy.’ ★★★★★  Readers’ Favorite

‘Author Chrys Cymri delivers a first-rate humorous read.’ ★★★★1/2 InD’tale Magazine

Get it at Sybrina’s Blue Unicorn Book Store.

 Check out Journey To Osm – The Blue Unicorn’s Tale while you’re there, too.

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Journey To Osm – The Blue Unicorn’s Tale Reader Review by Amber C.

  Journey To Osm – The Blue Unicorn’s Tale
 Reader Review by Amber C.







This is a very imaginative book. I found the world and the characters to be both interesting and diverse. I certainly haven’t read anything like it before. This is a clean book, suitable for children and adults. It does contain non-graphic violence.



I think that the number one thing I didn’t like about this book was all the head hopping, especially where I suddenly found myself in a minor character’s head. I would have enjoyed the book much better if the point of view change had been limited to just major characters and only in a separate scene from the last point of view. As it was, I had a hard time keeping up with the jumps.



The other issue I had was that there were a few things that were a little too far fetched for my tastes. I know that anything with unicorns is something that you need to suspend your disbelief in any case, but there were a couple things that didn’t work for me. The biggest one had to do with a major revelation near the end. After that, I found myself rereading the first chapter because parts of it didn’t make sense, especially given the pov in the beginning. After referencing the beginning, I still didn’t feel like the beginning and end fit together.



But overall, this was a pretty good story that I would recommend to anyone that’s interested and I don’t regret reading.I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily. My opinions are my own. 



Get the book in print for your fantasy library collection.





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Unicorn Book Feature – Avalon by Rachel Roberts

Sybrina’s Unicorn Book Pick



Unicorns!  How we love them. . .Luckily for all of us unicorn lovers there are hundreds of unicorn books available for all age groups.  I have gathered information about as many as I can find and have placed them here for you in one convenient spot on my blog.  Today’s Unicorn Book Feature is






Avalon

Web of Magic

4 Secret of the Unicorn





 By Rachel Roberts

Alderman’s problems are worsening. Many new creatures are arriving in Ravenswood through the portal and they report that the Fairy Glen, home of the fairimentals, has vanished. A frightened and wounded unicorn is among the new refugees to

Ravenswood. Can Emily communicate with her to offer help? The future of the Magic Web depends upon the dark secret the unicorn carries. All the while, a new terror, a harpy, stalks Emily as she tries to find out about the injured creature.

Get it at Sybrina’s Blue Unicorn Book Store.

 Check out Journey To Osm – The Blue Unicorn’s Tale while you’re there, too.

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Sybrina’s Blue Unicorn Book Store – I Have A Mission

Unicorn Books By Hundreds of Authors






I Have A Mission.
 
It is to help unicorn book lovers of all ages find their next favorite unicorn read.
 
     To facilitate that , I have created an online bookstore featuring unicorn books by hundreds of authors for unicorn readers of all ages. While there are literally hundreds of unicorn book authors out in the authorsphere, very few of their books are ever discovered by the reading community. With nearly 5,000 new books being offered to the public day for sale each and every day, just in the United States alone, there is just too much competition for most books to ever be discovered in typical online searches. But I have found a way for unicorn authors, at least, to overcome the typical hurdles of book discovery. Over the past couple of years, I spent countless hours searching for unicorn books of every type on every reading list and book sales site that I could find. I was highly motivated by a personal mission to make it easy for unicorn book lovers everywhere to find their next favorite unicorn read.
 
Those Efforts Seem To Be Paying Off

Many unicorn book lovers have already found their way to my unique unicorn bookstore through the unicorn book links I’ve placed on sites like Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter and Facebook. Little Kid Unicorn Books, Middle Kid Unicorn Books, Teen and YA Unicorn Books and Unicorn Books for Adults can all be found at Sybrina’s Unicorn Book Store.
Huge Collection of Unicorn Books
This book store doesn’t just focus on the unicorn books that everyone already knows about like “The Last Unicorn” by Peter S. Beagle or “Acorna: The Unicorn Girl” by Anne McCaffrey or “Phoebe and Her Unicorn” by Dana Simpson. At Sybrina’s Unicorn Book Store, you will find those famous books along with other great unicorn reads that you may have never heard of but are well worth reading like “Shahly’s Quest: The Chronicles of Brawrloxoss” by J. R. Knoll, “Beyond the Khrysalis” by Naya H. Jones and of course, “Journey To Osm – The Blue Unicorn’s Tale” by me, Sybrina Durant. This bookstore offers independent authors the same opportunity as those who are traditionally published to get some eyeballs on their books, as well.

Visit today to browse hundreds of unicorn books by all of the unicorn authors in the known authorsphere plus lots of other cool unicorny stuff that you just can’t live without. You might just be delighted at what you will find there.
 
For more information Visit Sybrina’s Unicorn Book Store:
http://bit.ly/2IpT4Zg
 
Social Media Links:
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sybrinad/unicorn-books/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/The-Blue-Unicorns-Journey-To-Osm-794155627353303/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sybrinablueunicorn/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Sybrina_spt

Pump Up Your Book Blog Tour – Flying High by Kaylin McFarren

HIGH FLYING by Kaylin McFarren, Time Travel/Thriller

Title: HIGH FLYINGAuthor: Kaylin McFarren

Publisher: Creative Edge Publishing LLC

Pages: 280

Genre: Time Travel Thriller

 





 …ten minutes to survive the past.

Skylar Haines has struggled with personal demons most of her life,

going to dark extremes to subdue anxieties rooted in her tragic past. On

a perpetual hunt for the next adrenaline hit, she discovers a passion

for flying and becomes a hard-edged stunt pilot, verging on obsession.

In the sky, following her most daring airshow, she encounters a

mysterious storm and almost collides with another aircraft, sending her

into a perilous dive. Guided by a mysterious voice, she manages a safe

landing but finds herself transported to another time. Eight months

before she was born, one week before her father was murdered.

Though baffled by her circumstances, Skylar soon arrives at a single

certainty: Before her lies a remarkable chance to change her

family’s destiny drastically for the better — or possibly even worse

— depending on the choices she makes, before her window of opportunity

closes.

______________________















With renewed excitement,

Jake Brennen and Skylar Haines approached two silver Pitts high performance biplanes,

designed around Vedeneyev M14P engines. Their trusted mechanic limped wearily

toward them, wiping crumbs from his thick handlebar mustache. Ethan Edwards had

been named after the main character in The

Searchers, an unlikely hero. But according to Ethan, he’d already become

one with the endless hours he put into keeping their planes in the air.
        Unfortunately, the grimace on his narrow face reflected the

concern in his voice. “Jake, I know Skylar is an excellent pilot and has been

going to airshows for years, but do you really think it’s a good idea to let

her tackle those stunts alone?” The forty-four-year-old grease monkey had

become a father figure to Jake after his dad died twenty-some years ago, and he

never minced words when it came to voicing his opinions.
        “Skylar says she’s ready to do it,” Jake assured him. “We’ve

been going over these stunts for several days now.”
        “In the air?”
        “Yes, of course. We went through the whole routine twice. I’m

pretty confident that—”
        “You of all people should know that it takes months to

perfect maneuvers.”
        “I realize that. But Skylar’s got her mind set on doing this,

and I believe in her abilities.” Jake glanced at her and smiled. “If I didn’t,

we wouldn’t be here.”
        Ethan followed Jake to his plane, shaking his head, and

Skylar trailed close behind. “Honestly,” Ethan grumbled, “I just hope you’re

not making a huge mistake.”
        “I agree with you there,” Jake said, settling into his seat.
        “Okay, fine…if that’s the way you want it. Come on, Skylar.

I’ll help you get strapped in.”
        “Thanks, Ethan!” Jake called out.
        A short, middle-aged woman with shoulder-length brown hair

approached Skylar, waving her hand excitedly. “Miss Haines! Miss Haines! Please

wait. I’ve been trying to reach you for two days now. I’m Samantha Jackson. I

can’t tell you how exciting it is to meet you in person.”
        “Exciting?” Skylar’s lips held a faint smile.
        “Why, yes. I read about you in the newspaper this morning and

understand you purchased one of my books. Women

in Flight? I wrote it four years ago.”
        “Really? In the newspaper? Somebody actually wrote a story

about me? Was Jake mentioned too?”
        The kindly woman smiled. “Jake Brennen was interviewed about

the airshow and said you were performing today. I’m sure your family is very

proud of you, Miss Haines.”
        Skylar almost laughed out loud. Her grandfather had no

interest in any aspect of her life, especially after having her arrested for

stealing his motorcycle. Moreover, the hostility between them had increased

exponentially when he insisted she be sent away to reform school. At the time,

he claimed he was doing her a real favor and she did him a better one by

leaving town.
        “Anyway,” the writer added, “I want to wish you good luck

today, not that you’ll need it. Mr. Brennen said you’re one of the most

talented pilots he’s ever worked with.”
        “What? He actually said that?” The stupid smile, which had

left her face while the woman was speaking, reappeared.
        “Indeed, he did. You can see for yourself right here.” The

woman handed her a torn section from the local newspaper. “You can keep that if

you’d like.” The story she was referring to filled most of the page and

continued on the backside. Skylar took it, folded it, and slipped it into her

backpack, promising herself to read it later.
        “I also thought you might also like to know that I’m working

on a new book,” the woman added. “It’s all about female stunt pilots and—”
        Skylar was only half-listening. “You don’t say?” Her

attention had drifted to Jake in the neighboring plane. He had his sunglasses

on, covering his stunning green eyes, and was adjusting the headset on top of

his shaggy blonde hair.
        “When you have some free time,” the woman added, “I’d love to

sit down and talk with you. Maybe even include your story in my new book.” She

handed Skylar a business card and smiled.
        “Yeah, sure. Why not?” Skylar shook the woman’s hand. Then

she watched her walk away. She glanced at the ivory business card’s elegant

scrolled lettering and made a mental note of the woman’s name before adding it

to her backpack.
        Unbelievable. Skylar

smiled to herself. Jake was certainly full of surprises today. She’d have to

remember to thank him for the compliment—one that she was determined to earn

today.
        “Looks like you have a new fan,” Ethan said, reminding her of

his presence. His face was serious as always, but his blue eyes were

brighter than usual.
        “I can’t imagine why.” Skylar glanced toward the stands,

filled to capacity with spectators. The realization

of what had taken place made her cheeks flush. “Jake’s the one with all the

talent, not me.”
        “I don’t think so,” Ethan

said. “Far as I’m concerned, you’re both gifted.” As they reached her

plane, he laid a hand on her shoulder. “I just hope you know what you’re doing,

kiddo.”
        “Yeah, so do I.” An unseasonal breeze had picked up, sending

a chill down her spine. Her hands trembled and her arms ached, reminding her of

her hidden obsession and Jake’s disturbing remark during breakfast.
        “I don’t understand why

you wear long sleeves all the time…even when it’s unbearably hot. I hope you’re

not shooting up drugs or something.” He smiled, and she shook her head. She

tried to smile back, but failed miserably. She wasn’t about to tell him that

she was emotionally scarred by childhood abuse

and had anxiety-driven roadmaps on her arms to prove it.
        “You

okay, sweetheart?” Ethan brought her back to the present. “Cause if you’re not,

there’s no way I’m sending you up.”
        “I’m

fine…honest.” She could hear the scared little voice in her head disagreeing.

Eight maneuvers were not part of the original plan. At least, not until two

weeks ago. With very little preparation, a lot could go wrong, and Ethan knew

it better than anyone.
        “All

right,” he said. “I’m holding you to that.” She gave him a quick smile before

climbing into her seat. Apparently, he sensed her fear as he continued

to reassure her, while strapping her in. “Just follow Jake’s lead and his

commands. Keep an eye on your airspeed and altitude. Stay a comfortable

distance away from each other. And break off if things get sloppy. Is that

clear?”
        Skylar whispered quietly. It’s

just you and me now, Roxy. Let’s do this right.
        “What’s that?”
        “Yes. I understand, Ethan.”
        “I’ll be listening.”
        “Okay. Sounds great.”
        He patted her shoulder and winked. “You’ve got this. In fact,

I bet you ten bucks no one’s going to be as incredible as you two. Just

remember that, Sky, and you’ll forget about all your fears.”
        She managed a weak smile. “Okay, you’re on. But you still owe

me six dollars from poker.”
        “What do you say? Double or nothing?”
        “You’re incorrigible.”

        Ethan checked her straps and gave

her a thumb up salute. She returned the gesture, confirming she was ready to

go. Then she heard Jake’s voice on her headset. “So, how’s my girl doing?”

        “As well as can be expected,” she said. In all truth, Skylar

was a jittery mess—anxious to get this show over and on with her life. She

closed her eyes and exhaled all the breath from her lungs for a count of five.

Then she repeated the relaxation technique, holding her breath. You can do this, you can do this, she

kept telling herself.
        “Heck, you’re far better than that,” Jake said. “You’re

friggin’ amazing…for a woman anyway.” He was grinning, motioning his head

towards the empty seat in front of him. “What do you say? Care to tag along?’
        She touched her necklace and smiled. “That’s the plan.”
        He mouthed the words I

love you, and she instantly relaxed.
        There were moments like this when she was tempted to repeat

the words. When for three seconds, she didn’t believe in the notion that love

gave someone the power to destroy you.
        She was only six years old the day her mother asked her,

“What’s more beautiful than life itself…devours you inside…makes you laugh and

cry all day…and makes you do anything, anytime, anyplace?” Of course, the

answer to her riddle was love. But after everything her mother had gone

through, Skylar was frightened to say it.
        So is that why she was doing this now? Why she was willing to

risk her life to please the only man she truly cared about?
         Jake’s voice came back on the radio, directing

her step by step. “Okay, Skylar, let’s do this just like we planned.

Remember…pay attention to our distance. Do everything like we practiced. I’ll

count us through. You got this! And don’t forget, sweetheart…this is all about

timing and having fun too. Is that clear?”
        “Yes. Crystal clear.”
        “Okay. Ready to go?”
        “Ready.”
        “Then let’s do this. Nice and easy.”
        Jake taxied his biplane off the grass and onto the runway,

and Skylar followed close behind. Then the airshow announcer’s voice erupted

over the loud speakers in the stadium. “Our next act, ladies and gentlemen,

boys and girls, are the Twin Arrows from the Ace Flying Circus. Let’s give

these two a big round of applause.”
        A cheer rose in the air, and Jake’s voice came through

Skylar’s speaker. “Roger, Mitchell Tower.”

His plane rolled forward and Skylar trailed behind him, increasing her air

speed as she pulled the stick towards her. She looked at the tower and knew

that Ethan was keeping an eye on her from there. For the first time all day,

the announcer said nothing. The crowd hushed and even the children watched

silently as the two old war planes took off full throttle, one after the other.

They swooped upwards and their engines roared.
        The wings made it difficult to see, but Skylar witnessed bits

and pieces of Jake’s first maneuver—enough to know that they were perfectly

executed. He flew out of the spectator’s view allowing her center stage. Now it

was her turn. The plane responded instantly to her touch and she became a

sculptor carving the air. Spins and turns, drops and climbs. Her individual

routine had been flawless. To finish, she climbed high above the runaway. The

hangars, taxiways, and crowded tarmac became the size of miniature replicas.

When the plane could climb no more, it stalled and fell to one side, dropping

into a spiral heading straight for the ground. Instead of recovering and

pulling out of the dive, Skylar let the ground rush toward her until she knew

the crowd feared for her life. And because she had spent countless years

watching airshows, she knew the audience had exploded with cheers when she

added power and regained control. She climbed back into the sky feeling

electrified, brimming with adrenaline.
        Jake met her in his plane directly over the runway, front and

center for the cheering crowd. They climbed in unison, turned on their tails,

then stalled and dropped in opposite directions. They proceeded to fly the

identical acrobatic routine: tailspins, four-point rolls, flat spins, figure

eights, snap rolls and hammerheads. Flying together, they were a reflection of

each other—perfectly matched in speed, altitude, and control. 
        The other pilots could do these stunts too, skillfully even.

But each time Jake was in the cockpit, he became an artist. Everyone who

watched him knew they were seeing something remarkable. But this time, Skylar

was right there with him, matching every move. The feeling was pure energy and

naked spirit.
        They flew out and around to get enough distance and speed to

do their final stunt. Descending even lower, it appeared as if they were going

to land. Then Jake yelled, “Here we go!” He dropped even lower and did a smooth

barrel roll directly under Skylar. They kept the bellies of their planes in

perfection position from one end of the runway to the other—blasting by the

audience, a plane and its reflection.
        Jake called, “Clear out!”
        Just as they had rehearsed, Skylar broke off to the right and

went into a climb. She couldn’t see him, but she knew that Jake was completing

his barrow roll and would soon follow her into the sky. 
        The exhilaration she felt was beyond description, beyond

anything she had experienced before. Skylar could almost hear the cheers

erupting from the ground below, as she soared higher and higher. She was

heading straight toward a cloud bank that hadn’t been there before—not when

they started their routine. It was like a wall that reached higher than she

could see.
        Skylar heard a crackle on her radio and then Jake’s

reassuring voice. “Honey, that was amazing! I knew you could do it.”
        His praise was a salve for her soul. “Thanks for believing in

me, Jake.”
        “You would have loved this, Roxy,” she said quietly. “It was

just like we talked about.” All of her dreams were coming true, exactly the way

she imagined. With Jake’s help, she had accomplished a remarkable feat, and now

her name would be synonymous with female stunt pilots all over the world.
        The wall of clouds was getting bigger at a rate Skylar had

never seen before. Even intense thunderstorms didn’t grow this rapidly, and

there were no storms forecasted in this area.
        “Jake? Do you see this?” Skylar couldn’t believe the size of

this weather system in front of her. She couldn’t even begin to see the top or

either side.
        The radio crackled but he didn’t respond.
        “Jake? Can you hear me?”
        Static erupted in her headset but then cleared. “Baby,

listen. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
        “Jake? Is that you?”
        “I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to say this out

loud—”
        “What are you talking about? Jake? Is something wrong?”
        “Skylar…I…you.” Static blocked out most of the words.

“Sky…do…hear me? …get what…saying?” The static was increasing. “…honest…love

you!”
        “Jake! I can barely hear you. Can you hear me?”
        He kept talking, obviously unaware that the call was breaking

up. “…Skylar…want…know…”
        “Jake! I can’t hear you! Jake! Repeat.”
        “Get…here…quick.” The static was getting louder.

“…proud…believe…long to…say…here…why…you.”
        The static ended and silence filled her ears. It was time to

get back on the ground. “If you can hear me, there’s a weather system

approaching and it’s a biggie! I’m on my way back.” Then she added, “Taking it

nice and easy.”
        However, nature had a different idea. It was as if the wall

of clouds had swallowed her whole, darkening the cockpit in an instant. The plane danced and swayed

in the turbulence, constantly buffeted by the increas­ing wind. Skylar’s head hit the canopy and

her knees slammed against the sides of the plane. She had entered the eye of

the storm and was being thrown around like a toy plane. Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by the crash of thunder. She

tightened her grip on the controls and released a ragged breath.
        Holy shit. Skylar was in the bowels of a storm with no end in

sight. She could only hold on and pray that the plane wouldn’t break into

pieces. The turbulence grew wilder, tossing her around like a rock in a can.

She regained control of her plane for seconds at a time. When she could, she

started a turn in an attempt to break free from the storm—to exit the way she

came in. She kept an eye out on the windscreen to stay oriented, but it was

hard to keep her head still long enough to see clearly.
        The dark ominous sky

revealed glimpses of white clouds sliding behind fast-moving black curtains,

giving her a sliver of hope. Then, from out of nowhere, a red and white plane

descended from above, headed straight at her. We’re gonna crash!
        Skylar gasped and veered her biplane to the left. They were

bulleting past each other, but there wasn’t enough time to get out of the way.

Her right wing clipped the tail of the other aircraft, sending her plane into a

nose dive.
        “Oh, my God!” she yelled into her radio. “We collided!”
        The radio was quiet.
        “Jake! Can you hear me? It’s Skylar! I’m going down!” She was

spiraling and plunging straight down, holding on for dear life.
        Why wasn’t he

answering? Where the hell was Jake?
        Skylar had the stick close to her chest pulling up for all

she was worth. “Ethan, are you there? Ethan, it’s Skylar! Why isn’t anyone

responding? I’m going down!”
        A man’s voice came through the speaker. “Skylar. Let go.”
        Who was that? It was an unfamiliar voice.
        “I can’t recover the controls!” she yelled. “I collided with

another plane! Help me! Please help me!”
        “Skylar, listen. You know how to do this. You just need to

let go.”
        “I can’t! The controls were damaged. I’m going down!”
        The man’s voice remained calm. “You can do this. Your plane

is fine.” He might as well have been ordering dinner at a restaurant. “Listen

to me. You’re in a stall. Let go of the stick. Let the wings do their job.”
        Her knuckles were white.
        “Skylar, listen to me,” he repeated. “You know how to do

this. Let go!”
        She blew out a deep breath. The ground was getting closer by

the second and her nerves were jumping. She needed to act before it was too

late.
        Against everything her brain was screaming, she followed

stall protocol. She pushed the stick away from her and shoved in the throttle,

increasing her descent into the ground. As soon as she heard the power of her

engines, relief poured over her. She pulled back on the stick and felt the

gloriousness of her wings taking hold, creating lift and allowing her aircraft

to fly.
        I’m going make it!
        “Nice one, Skylar! You did it!” The stranger cheered.
        She leveled off and the sky around her lightened, allowing

her to see the runway below. She had fallen a long way. “Thank you.

I…couldn’t…I have…”
        “Just land and be done with it,” he said. “That was quite a

ride!”
        “Coming around.” She headed for a final approach and used the

time to breathe and wipe the tears from her eyes. There was nothing she could

do about the shaking. Her whole body was trembling.
        “Jake? Ethan? Are you there?”
        The radio remained silent.
        Skylar touched down with a gentle bounce. She taxied off the

runway and pulled around to a stop in front of a black hanger that she didn’t

recall seeing before. But then after that harrowing experience, everything in

the world seemed new.
        She shut off the engines and the airplane shuttered. The

propellers slowed and stopped with a jerk. Silence. She started to remove her

headset but stopped and said into the mic, “Are you still there? I can’t thank

you enough.”
        “It was nothing. Glad to help.”
        “I don’t know what got into me. I’ve never panicked like that

before.”
         “No problem. Happens

to the best of us.”
        “But I’m used to emergencies. I’ve done it a thousand times.

I do stalls for a living!” She hesitated, embarrassed to admit such a thing.

“Well, thank you. I really can’t thank you enough.” Then she realized she

didn’t have the foggiest idea who he was—this guardian angel who saved her.

“Can I ask who this is?”
        “The name’s Haines,” he said. “It was my plane your clipped

up there. But I managed to bring her down safely.”
        “That was you! I don’t know how that happened. You just

appeared and I only had a second to react. I’m so glad you’re okay. That I’m

okay too…thanks to you.”
        “Like I said, glad to help.”
        “Wait a minute. Did you say Haines?” She must have misheard.

Or perhaps it was the near-death experience confusing her further.
        “Yep, that’s right. Dylan Haines.” He paused, then he asked,

“Have we met before?”
        “Um…I…” Skylar looked around and realized that she wasn’t

sure where she was. None of this was making sense. She pulled off her headset,

thinking she could see better without them. She looked around for Jake. Where

was Ethan? The airshow was still going on and groups of people were gathered

here and there, filling the open spaces outside.
        Leaving her backpack behind, she climbed out of her seat and

hopped to the ground. Where was everyone?

Where was Jake? She was having trouble believing her eyes. A short distance

away sat the brick traffic control tower and administration building. People

were milling about, going in and out of the buildings. And she knew these

buildings well. She saw them every day. She also knew that they had been

remodeled a few years ago. But the building in front of her had clearly not

been remodeled. It had the old windows and doors, and the addition that gave

them more offices wasn’t there.
        What was going on here?
        Draped across the

black façade was a huge white banner with black letters. She couldn’t believe

her eyes.
        Welcome to the ’98 Reno National Championship Air Races & Air

Show!
        What? 1998? Was this

some kind of joke? Skylar looked around, half expecting someone to jump out

and yell, “Gotcha!”
        All the buildings around her looked the same but different.

Everything was just a little bit off. She took another look around. The hangers

were there, but where was the shed? She used that shed daily for tools and wash

pails. The small maintenance building was there, however, the large newer side

wasn’t. It was just a parking lot.
        Skylar scanned the

whole airport and realized it wasn’t making any sense. This wasn’t right. None of it was right!
        Antique planes of every make and model were lined up in neat

staggered rows. Pilots were checking engines, climbing in and out of cockpits,

and studying the reader board for their positions. Red and white checkered

canopies had replaced the black vendor tents that had been there this morning.

The grandstands were still filled to capacity, yet none of the faces looked

familiar. Not even the faces in the “Employee Section.” And there was still no

sign of Jake and Ethan. Plus Jake’s biplane wasn’t there and his hanger was

nowhere in sight.
        Was she losing her

mind?
        A striking man with wavy brown hair and an athletic build

strode up to her, wiping his hands on a rag. “So, you must be Skylar. It’s good

to meet you. And all in one piece.” A bright smile stretched across his face.
        She returned his smile and realized that she recognized him.

Her brain started filing through faces and names, searching for something to

remind her who this man was. Then a picture came to mind. She knew a picture of this man. That was it! Skylar had seen his

face in her grandfather’s album. Only, that album was filled with photos of her

father.
        He looked exactly like a picture of her father. But that was

impossible. Wasn’t it?
        Skylar looked at him a little closer. Same hair. Same sea

blue eyes. If her father had a twin, this would be him. But wait…it couldn’t be. He didn’t have a twin and this man looked

to be 25-years-old.
        The world came to a standstill. It was 1998. Her father would

have been twenty-five in 1998. This was crazy, and so was being here, in this

place—in the same year and place where her father had died.
        Skylar kept her clammy hands clenched at her sides and

squeezed her eyes tight. This is all a

dream…just a dream. Either that or she was dead. She must have crashed and

died on impact. That was it! She was…dead. She opened her eyes again, but

everything was the same. Still 1998. 
        She broke out in a

cold sweat. A tingling sensation began in her hands and feet and then quickly

spread to her entire body.
        Her father stepped forward and reached out a hand. “Skylar?

Are you all right?”
        She simply stared, mystified. “This…this isn’t real. It…it

can’t be,” she stammered. “It’s…a dream. Just…a dream.” He was tilting off

center before her eyes, blurring into fuzzy grayness, disappearing as the world

went black.

 

KAYLIN MCFARREN has received more than 45 national literary awards,

in addition to a prestigious Golden Heart Award nomination for

FLAHERTY’S CROSSING – a book she and her oldest daughter, New York

Times/USA Today best-selling author, Kristina McMorris, co-authored in

2008. Prior to embarking on her writing journey and developing the

popular THREADS psychological thriller series, she poured her passion

for creativity into her work as the director of a fine art gallery in

the Pearl District in Portland, Oregon; she also served as a

governor-appointed member of the Oregon Arts Commission. When she’s not

traveling or spoiling her pups and three grandsons, she enjoys giving

back to her community through participation and support of various

charitable and educational organizations in the Pacific Northwest, and

is currently the president of the Soulful Giving Foundation – a

non-profit focused on cancer research, care and treatment at hospitals

throughout Oregon.Website: www.kaylinmcfarren.com

Blog: https://kaylinmcfarren.blog

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/4kaylin

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorKaylinMcFarren

Pump Up Your Book Blog Tour – Knightmare Arcanist by Shami Stovall

KNIGHTMARE ARCANIST 

by Shami Stovall, YA Fantasy

Title: KNIGHTMARE ARCANISTAuthor: Shami Stovall

Publisher: Capital Station Books

Pages: 360

Genre: YA Fantasy

 





In a world populated by mythical creatures, those who bond with them

are known as arcanists—their magic stemming from the connection they

forged. Phoenix arcanists gain flames and healing, unicorn arcanists

speak with horses and manipulate poison, or even basilisk arcanists who

control flesh and stone.But those wishing to bond must first prove themselves.

Gravedigger Volke Savan, desperate to leave his tiny home island and

impress the most beautiful girl he’s ever known, breaks every tradition

of the bonding ceremony just to become an arcanist. But when the only

creature who will bond with him has a sinister requirement, Volke is put

to the ultimate test of worth.

A fast-paced flintlock fantasy for those who enjoy How to Train

Your Dragon by Cressida Cowell, Unsouled (Cradle Series) by Will Wight,

and Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan.

 
______________________
















CHAPTER

ONE
THE DAY OF

PHOENIXES

            I outlined a fresh grave for the cemetery as bells rang

from the isle’s tower, signifying the start of the celebrations. The soil

reeked of ammonia and rot, but the crisp morning breeze washed the scent away,

dispersing it over the ocean. I removed my shirt, allowing the wind to cool me

while I worked.
            Every ten years, the people on the Isle of Ruma gathered

to watch the fledgling phoenixes bond with a few chosen mortals. Lamplighters

did their duty despite the glorious sunshine, each lamp’s fire representing the

flames of phoenixes. Merchants cleared their horses and carts from the main

road in anticipation of the crowds.
This

was my second Day of Phoenixes. A decade ago, on my fifth birthday, I missed

the bonding ceremony to attend my father’s trial. He was convicted of murder,

but because he hadn’t been born on the island, he was taken to the mainland for

final judgement. That was the last time I saw him.
            Although the last Day of Phoenixes had been inauspicious,

I intended to change that. Once I had finished digging a shallow grave, I would

make my way into town.
I

slammed the shovel’s head into the dirt and scooped deep. The cemetery sat near

the edge of the island, far from those gathering to observe the hopeful

students trying to win the favor of the phoenixes.
            Tradition stated that anyone who handled sewage, waste,

and dead bodies wasn’t allowed to attend the bonding ceremony, which was just

my luck. After my father was sent away, I could’ve been given to any profession

for apprenticeship. I could’ve gone to the carpenter and learned the craft of

woodworking, or I could’ve gone to the silversmith and learned the art of fine

metal work, but misfortune hounded me like a shadow. I was given to the

gravekeeper, slated to dig corpse-holes until the end of time, forever exiled

from the festivities.
            I still intended to go. Even if it meant ignoring the

traditions of the isle—something unheard of on our tiny spit of land—no one

could stop me from proving myself to a phoenix. No one.
I

scooped another mound of dirt and tossed it to the side.
            “You look deep in thought, Volke,” my fellow corpse-hole

apprentice, Illia, said. “What’re you planning?”
            “I’m waiting for the trials to begin.”
            “And then what?”
            “You’ll see.”
            Illia sat in the shade of a cypress tree, her legs

crossed and her chin in both hands. Most people hated the thought of sitting on

graves, since it was supposed to bring bad luck, but Illia wasn’t like most

people. She leaned back on a headstone and exhaled as the ocean wind rushed by,

catching her wavy brown hair and revealing the scars on the side of her face.
            She held a hand over the marks, like she always did. The

moment the wind died down, she pulled some of her hair around to cover her

scars, hiding the old knife wounds that had taken her right eye.
            I finished one half of the grave and huffed.
            Illia and I lived in a tiny cottage on the edge of the

cemetery, apprenticed to Ruma’s sole gravekeeper. We both held the glorious

title of gravedigger. Like me, she

had no family. Well, we had each other, and Gravekeeper William, but he hardly

counted.
            For ten years, Illia and I had considered ourselves

brother and sister, and siblings always know each other’s mood. Illia displayed

all the telltale signs of irritation—narrowed eye, rarely blinking, her mouth

turned down in a slight frown. She hated the fact I was keeping secrets from

her. If I didn’t explain myself quick, she’d exact her revenge.
            “I don’t want to become the next gravekeeper,” I said as

I threw a mound of dirt off to the side.
            With an eyebrow sarcastically raised, Illia asked, “So

you’re going to impress a phoenix and leave this place, is that it?”
            “That’s right.”
            “Only two phoenixes were born this year,” she said,

wagging her finger. “And the schoolmaster has already picked his two favored

disciples to win the right to bond. No one wants you to take a phoenix from

either of those try-hards.”
            “I don’t care.” I scooped out another clump of dirt, my

grip on the shovel so tight it hurt. “Bonding with a phoenix is too important.

Besides, no one on this isle likes me anyway. Why should I start caring about

their opinions now?”
            “Hmph. I should’ve known you’d say that.”
            Of course. Anyone who bonded with a mystical creature,

like a phoenix, became an arcanist—a

powerful wielder of sorcery, capable of great magic based on the creature they

bonded to.
            Arcanists were the pinnacle of society, the most

influential people, and revered by everyone. Some arcanists could control the

weather, or devastate armies, or make the land fertile. Even the weakest and

laziest of arcanists were well-thought-of and important members of powerful

guilds, shepherding humanity to greatness with a mere flick of their wrists.
            What I wouldn’t give to become an arcanist. They were

things of legend.
            More significant than a gravedigger, anyway.
            “You’re not the only one with plans today,” Illia said.

She waited a minute before adding, “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’ll be

doing during the bonding ceremony?”
            I shoveled another chunk of dirt, taking some weeds with

it. “All right. Tell me. What will you be doing?”
            “It’s a secret.”
            She stood and brushed herself off with a few gentle pats

to her dress. Then she crossed her arms and stared at me, no doubt waiting for

me to pester her about the secret just so she could say, see how annoying it is when you do it?
            “I’m sure you’ll have fun doing whatever it is you have

planned,” I said with a shrug.
            “You’re not the only one who wants to become an arcanist,

Volke,” she replied, saying my name

as though it were venom. “But there might be easier ways than embarrassing

yourself in front of everyone.”
            I finished carving the outline of the grave, determined

not to be sucked into asking her what she meant. I had too many things on my

mind to get into an argument. Besides, I knew she was right. It was irksome

being excluded from secrets, especially by family. But I didn’t want to run the

risk of her trying to dissuade me.
            Another round of bells sounded in the distance. I threw my

shovel to the side and turned toward the cemetery cottage. “I have to go.

Whatever you do, don’t get into trouble.”
            Illia replied with a smile. “Never.”
            Something about her sarcastic tone told me she had

trouble planned, but there wasn’t any time to go into it. I jogged into the

cottage, ran up the rickety stairs, and then dashed straight into my room. It

was technically a storage closet that Gravekeeper William had converted into a

sleeping space so that Illia and I wouldn’t have to share the second bedroom.
            The cramped room fit my cot, a chair, and a trunk for my

clothes. That was it.
            I squeezed myself in, ripped off my dirty trousers, and

then dressed in a clean white shirt and black pants. Although I owned nothing

fancy—everything in my trunk had been Gravekeeper William’s at some point—I

still wanted to make an effort. The phoenixes bonded with individuals they

liked the most after the Trials of Worth were over. I needed to impress them,

and I couldn’t do that with grave dirt on my clothes.
            Once dressed, I combed my disheveled hair, even though it

never cooperated. For some reason, it always puffed out and tangled at the

ends, defying gravity just to make me look foolish. And the blackness of it—an

inky hue taken straight from the midnight hour—wasn’t common on

the isles. Everyone else had red or blond hair, so other kids made fun of me.
            Coal head. Ink brush. They weren’t clever kids—any

dumber and you’d have to water them twice a week—they were just mean. No one

harassed me after I grew tall, however. Six feet meant I stood out in the

group, and not in a wimpy way.
            When I finished the last of my brushing, my hair puffed

back out.
            Satisfied I had made myself halfway presentable, I laced

up my boots and headed downstairs to the kitchen. I grabbed a small canteen of

water and the cleanest rag we owned before rushing out the front door.
            The vast ocean sparkled in the distance, so blue it put

the sky to shame. The winds brought waves, but nothing strong enough to reach

far inland—just the melody of water lapping across the white sand beaches.
            With the breeze in my face, I ran down the dirt road

until I came to the cobblestone streets of the city. I pushed my way through

the crowds of people swarming toward the town square.
            Our small island didn’t have much flatland, so the one

city—creatively named Ruma, like the

island—was the only place to live. The two-story houses were smooshed together,

most with stores downstairs and homes above. Despite the congested living

arrangements, people went out of their way to keep the place lively. Potted

flowers, colored cobblestone for the roads, wrought-iron fences in the shape of

fish for the balconies—Ruma had a special beauty waiting in every nook and

cranny.
            The crowds made their way to the Pillar to watch the

bonding trials begin.
            The Pillar—nothing more than a sheer column of pointed

rock jutting straight up into the sky—was well over one hundred and twenty feet

tall. It could be seen from anywhere on the island, the reddish stone

shimmering in the sunlight. A single tree grew at the top, its branches forever

swaying in the ocean winds, its roots laced over the rock, its fruit rare and

delicious.
            That sole charberry tree was what had attracted the first

phoenixes to our island centuries ago. The spicy fruit tasted like a chili

pepper, but sweeter and juicier. Phoenixes loved them.
            The base of the Pillar was the starting location for the

Trials of Worth—the tasks given to the wide-eyed hopefuls wanting to prove

their value to the phoenixes. I continued through the crowd, my head tilted

back, my gaze locked on the Pillar. A staircase wrapped around the column of

rock, all the way to the top.
            “Hey,” someone yelled as I shoved my way deeper into the

excited masses. “Isn’t that one of the gravedigger kids?”
            I ignored the remark, sidestepped the slow-moving

families, and nimbly maneuvered through a group of schoolchildren. If I bonded

with a phoenix, I wouldn’t have to stay here anymore and listen to their

whispers. All new arcanists traveled to the mainland to join a guild for

training.
            A third round of bells chimed, and my pulse quickened

with each step. I didn’t want to be late for the trials.
            The whole population of Ruma packed the streets, shoulder

to shoulder. No one missed the Day of Phoenixes unless they were specifically

excluded, like the garbage men. Everyone wore their best attire, children

tossed red flower petals, and the theater troupe wore costumes made of bird

feathers while they pranced around pretending to be phoenixes. It took all of my

willpower not to crane my head to get a better look as I ran by.
            “—and today is a day of glory,” the schoolmaster’s voice

boomed across the town square.
            Schoolmaster Tyms was a naturally loud

individual—Gravekeeper William described him as a regular blowhard in love with his own voice.
            I slipped between two elderly men and stayed off to the

side, making sure to remain in the shadows cast by the morning sun. Hundreds of

people crowded the center of town, but their gazes never turned in my

direction. They all kept their attention on a wooden stage near the Pillar—a

platform only a few feet off the ground—where Schoolmaster Tyms stood squarely

in the middle, his arms raised.
            Whenever he glanced in my direction, I ducked.

Schoolmaster Tyms didn’t care for anyone except those who attended his

lectures, and he especially hated those with “unsavory” professions.
            “I’ve mentored two extraordinary people,” Tyms said.

“Both are talented beyond their years and worthy of a phoenix.”
He

walked to the edge of the stage, lifting his arms even higher, his wrinkled

face pulled back in an unnatural smile. I had seen corpses do a better job at

conveying emotion.
But

I didn’t stare at him for long because on either side of him, perched on ornate

bird stands, were two phoenixes.
            I stood transfixed, taking in their lustrous scarlet

feathers and golden eyes. They had the build of herons, delicate and sleek, but

every time they moved, soot fell from them and drifted to the ground. Fire

flashed underneath their wings as though their whole bodies were made of flame.

Their tails hung down two feet and twisted a bit at the end, like a peacock.
            They were young, not even a year old, but that was old

enough for them to leave the island. Mystical creatures didn’t reach maturity

unless they were bonded to a person—I was certain they were giddy for the

ceremony as well.
            “We’re honored to be here today,” one phoenix said, her

voice sing-song and brilliant.
            The other added, “We can’t wait to see our potential

partners.” He lifted his head as he spoke, his voice soft but distinct.
            I wanted to hold one in my arms and feel the warmth of

their magic coursing through my body, but touching a phoenix was forbidden.

Only once they bonded with a person were they allowed to be handled.
            The phoenixes tilted their heads as two individuals

walked forward. The two were around my age, fifteen, the age of adulthood. They

wore robes of glistening white, tied at the waist with silver ropes made of

silk. Fancy outfits made on the mainland, betraying their wealth.
            Tyms motioned to the rich newcomers. “On this Day of the

Phoenixes I’ve selected Zaxis Ren and Atty Trixibelle to take part in the

trials.”
            Of course they

would be picked. Ever since we were kids, they were always favored by the

schoolmaster.
            I cursed under my breath as Zaxis walked to the base of

the Pillar.
            He stopped under the metal archway, a century-old

artifact which had been shaped into a phoenix and gilded. The arch signified

the start of the trial. Anyone who passed beneath it would become a

participant.
            Zaxis smiled at the crowd with the smuggest expression a

human could muster. His red hair shimmered in the sunlight and fluttered about

with the wind. It wasn’t long enough to tie back, and I took a small amount of

pleasure in watching him clumsily pat it down every few seconds, only for a

stray hair to poke him in the eye again.
            Zaxis’s family, the Ren House, stood at the front of the

crowd, their personal soldiers keeping the “riffraff” a couple feet back. They

cheered for Zaxis and threw flower petals. I had never been cheered for

anything, yet all he did was show up.

Life wasn’t fair sometimes.
            “Thank you,” Zaxis said as he flashed a toothy smile.

“Thank you. Once I’m bonded with a phoenix, I’ll make all of Ruma proud with my

many accomplishments. I’ll become the world’s most renowned arcanist, loved by

all.”
            I balled my hands into fists and gritted my teeth. He

already assumed a phoenix would choose him and

that he would make one of the world’s greatest arcanists? Of course he did—he

wasn’t expecting any competition.
            Then Atty stepped forward, and the crowds hushed.
            Unlike Zaxis, whose insufferable attitude knew no bounds,

Atty held herself with regal sophistication. Her long blonde hair, tied in a

neat braid, didn’t twirl in the winds. She held her head high, her slender neck

adorned with a silver necklace depicting a charberry tree. I had always admired

her poise and grace, like a pauper admires a member of royalty, even when I was

young.
            If things had been different—if I wasn’t a

gravedigger—maybe I could’ve courted Atty. No doubt she would be disgusted to

have someone like me approach her now. But once I bonded with a phoenix,

perhaps I’d have the courage.
            “Thank you, Schoolmaster Tyms,” Atty said, her voice a sweet

relief after a long day’s work. “It’s a privilege to prove myself worthy of a

phoenix. If I become an arcanist, I swear to dedicate myself to becoming a

helpful ruler, one all of Ruma can be proud of.”
            Atty’s family, the Trixibelle House, owned most of the

buildings on the island. They sat on nearby balconies, each of them poised on

chairs and cushions, cheering for Atty, along with everyone else on the island.
            Although I wanted a phoenix for myself, I almost joined in on the clapping. Her

answer was perfect, and when the phoenixes exchanged glances, I knew they

thought the same.
            No one else stepped forward.
            While other people could

offer themselves to the phoenixes, it was frowned upon. The schoolmaster knew

best, or so they said—for centuries the keepers of knowledge were deemed the

wisest and most capable of determining who would become the best arcanists. It

was tradition. And for the last few decades, the schoolmaster hadn’t even made

it a competition. He simply chose the exact number of students equal to

phoenixes, ensuring his recommendation carried more weight than gold.
            And the Isle of Ruma knew the importance of picking the

right people to become arcanists. If the competition was open to everyone,

someone with ill intents could gain vast magical power. The schoolmaster was

supposed to weed them out and put forward only the best, most deserving people.

That was why no one else entered the competitions. Following traditions is the way of the isles! Our island’s motto.
            But even if I was noble of spirit, Atty and Zaxis studied

and trained eight hours a day under the care of Schoolmaster Tyms. Everyone

else, myself included, had work and chores. Atty and Zaxis were lucky. I

wasn’t. How could I ever hope to match their knowledge and skills?
            That didn’t matter, though. I wouldn’t make excuses. The

phoenixes could, in theory, bond with anyone they found worthy. And I would

show them just how worthy I was by passing each of the three trials.
            “Once our hopefuls walk through the archway,” Tyms said,

gesturing to the gold phoenix arch, “they will officially become participants

in the trials. For the first task, each hopeful must walk up all one hundred

and twelve steps of the Pillar to the charberry tree. Then they will pick a

fruit to present to the phoenixes and return down the stairs.”
            Every Day of Phoenixes had the same three trials. The

charberry tree was the first. Only one stairway led to the tree—the spiral

stairway made of stone steps that wrapped around the Pillar. The steps were

hundreds of years old and worn smooth from use. Oh, and no railing, which was

why I never felt safe standing on them, as falling from anything past the tenth

step meant serious injury, possibly death.
            “And with that, you may begin,” Tyms shouted.
            Both Atty and Zaxis bowed to the crowd before turning and

walking through the archway.
            This was it.
            My moment.
            I ran through the crowd, pushing people out of the way

when I needed to, even knocking over a few men of the Ren Family as I dashed

toward the arch. My heart beat so hard I almost didn’t hear people screaming

for me to stop.
            “Hey!” a woman barked.
            “What’s he doing?” someone else shouted.
            “Stop him!”
            But before anyone could grab me, I raced through the

archway, dashing past Atty and Zaxis.
            “What do you think you’re doing, Volke?” Zaxis growled.

“Good-for-nothing gravediggers can’t enter the trials!”
            I had my foot on the first step of the Pillar when I

glanced over my shoulder. “I already passed under the archway. That makes me a

participant.”
            “What? That’s not allowed!” Zaxis glanced over his

shoulder. “Right, Master Tyms?”
            Tyms blubbered and flailed his arms. “How dare you,

Volke! You walk back through that archway this instant. You’re disgracing all

of Ruma with your disrespect!”
            I ran up the steps, taking them two at a time despite the

lack of railing.
            Today I would prove myself to a phoenix. I would prove

myself to all of Ruma.
            I was more than just a gravedigger.
I

wouldn’t stop. Not now, not ever.

How I Sell All My Books at Con and Book Fairs

If you’ve ever gone to a book convention or book fair, you know there’s a fierce competition between authors. Sure, the other authors are friendly, and it’s not like they’ll stab you the moment your back is turned, but everyone basically has the same goal: sell their novel.
And the customer only has so much money, time, and attention.
The real question becomes—how will you stand out in a sea of authors all fighting for the same $10? I agonized over this dilemma the first time I ever went to a convention. I figured there was no way people would want to read my stuff. This was my debut novel! They didn’t know my writing history, or how much work I had put into the book. All the convention goers knew was that I was some schmoe peddling a book. Why was I worth their time?
My solution: I drew caricatures for free. The only caveat was that they had to read my book while I worked. This way, I could get them hooked with the first chapter, and then they’d be dying to know the rest. Or, on the other hand, they get a free drawing and feel indebted to me, so they buy the book anyway as a sort of “tip.” The latter isn’t my ideal (I want to gain fans, after all) but it still helps me recoup costs.
My caricatures aren’t special (they’re cute and chibi). Here’s an example:


 But giving something away for free entices people to your booth.
I can already hear some of you screaming, “But I can’t draw! This doesn’t help!”
Anything can be used as a hook. Can you make bracelets? Can you play an instrument? A simple hook that doesn’t involve selling your book will make people think higher of you when they approach. Never start with, “Let me sell you something” because people are bombarded with ads and sales pitches all the time. Start with, “Let me entertain you for a moment” and your potential audience will be thrilled to engage.
Just for reference, I tend to sell about 10 books an hour (1 for every 6 minutes) OR IF IN A SERIES, 20 books an hour. That means I sell a couple hundred every weekend, making my money back on a booth and some profit.
If you can draw—Great!—I totally suggest you do what I’ve done. Give away small (and fast) pieces of art to help “lure” people to your booth. If not, pick a skill you can do and roll with it. Be creative!
And now that I’ve hooked you with some free advice for selling, maybe you wouldn’t mind checking out my fantasy novel, Knightmare Arcanist! Trust me, if you read the first chapter, you’ll be hooked. I’ve seen hundreds of people always fall into the same glorious trap.
Happy writing!








Shami Stovall relies on her BA in History and Juris Doctorate to make

her living as an author and history professor in the central valley of

California. She writes in a wide range of fiction, from crime thrillers

to fantasy to science-fiction. Stovall loves reading, playing video

games, entertaining others with stories, and writing about herself in

the third person.

Website: https://sastovallauthor.com/

Blog: https://sastovallauthor.com/blog/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/@GameOverStation/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SAStovall/

Goddess Fish Promotions – Knightmare Arcanist by Shami Stovall

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will award a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Magic. Sailing. A murderer among heroes.

Gravedigger Volke Savan wants nothing more than to be like his hero, the legendary magical swashbuckler, Gregory Ruma. First he needs to become an arcanist, someone capable of wielding magic, which requires bonding with a mythical creature. And he’ll take anything—a pegasus, a griffin, a ravenous hydra—maybe even a leviathan, like Ruma.

So when Volke stumbles across a knightmare, a creature made of shadow and terror, he has no reservations. But the knightmare knows a terrible secret: Ruma is a murderer out to spread corrupted magic throughout their island nation. He’s already killed a population of phoenixes and he intends to kill even more.

In order to protect his home, his adopted sister, and the girl he admires from afar, Volke will need to confront his hero, the Master Arcanist Gregory Ruma.

A fast-paced flintlock fantasy for those who enjoy How to Train Your Dragon by Cressida Cowell, Unsouled (Cradle Series) by Will Wight, and Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan.

Read an Excerpt

I outlined a fresh grave for the cemetery as bells rang from the isle’s tower, signifying the start of the celebrations. The soil reeked of ammonia and rot, but the crisp morning breeze washed the scent away, dispersing it over the ocean. I removed my shirt, allowing the wind to cool me while I worked.

Every ten years, the people on the Isle of Ruma gathered to watch the fledgling phoenixes bond with a few chosen mortals. Lamplighters did their duty despite the glorious sunshine, each lamp’s fire representing the flames of phoenixes. Merchants cleared their horses and carts from the main road in anticipation of the crowds.

This was my second Day of Phoenixes. A decade ago, on my fifth birthday, I missed the bonding ceremony to attend my father’s trial. He was convicted of murder, but because he hadn’t been born on the island, he was taken to the mainland for final judgement. That was the last time I saw him.

Although the last Day of Phoenixes had been inauspicious, I intended to change that. Once I had finished digging a shallow grave, I would make my way into town.

I slammed the shovel’s head into the dirt and scooped deep. The cemetery sat near the edge of the island, far from those gathering to observe the hopeful students trying to win the favor of the phoenixes.

Tradition stated that anyone who handled sewage, waste, and dead bodies wasn’t allowed to attend the bonding ceremony, which was just my luck. After my father was sent away, I could’ve been given to any profession for apprenticeship. I could’ve gone to the carpenter and learned the craft of woodworking, or I could’ve gone to the silversmith and learned the art of fine metal work, but misfortune hounded me like a shadow. I was given to the gravekeeper, slated to dig corpse-holes until the end of time, forever exiled from the festivities.

I still intended to go. Even if it meant ignoring the traditions of the isle—something unheard of on our tiny spit of land—no one could stop me from proving myself to a phoenix. No one.

About the Author:Shami Stovall relies on her BA in History and Juris Doctorate to make her living as an author and history professor in the central valley of California. She writes in a wide range of fiction, from crime thrillers to fantasy to science-fiction. Stovall loves reading, playing video games, entertaining others with stories, and writing about herself in the third person.

Website: https://sastovallauthor.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/GameOverStation/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SAStovall/

https://www.amazon.com/Knightmare-Arcanist-Frith-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B07QMKVFJM

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/knightmare-arcanist-shami-stovall/1131291989

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Journey To Osm – The Blue Unicorn’s Tale Reader Review by Kayla K.

  Journey To Osm – The Blue Unicorn’s Tale
 Reader Review by Kayla K.







I always love a good underdog story, and this was definitely one of those. After being born with a plain blue horn, Blue is secluded from his tribe. No metal, no magic has been the chant he has heard his entire life. But when things begin to happen, and the Oracle sees Blue as the hero of his tribe, he decides to go on a journey to find out if a unicorn without a metal horn can be the savior his tribe needs.This is a beautiful YA fantasy that includes all the great elements of an epic quest. I think my favorite part was the fact that the story is about unicorns of all creatures because it’s not something you see very often. The author has created an immersive world in Journey to Osm.

Get the book in print for your fantasy library collection.





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Unicorn Book Feature – The Last Unicorn By Peter S. Beagle

Sybrina’s Unicorn Book Pick



Unicorns!  How we love them. . .Luckily for all of us unicorn lovers there are hundreds of unicorn books available for all age groups.  I have gathered information about as many as I can find and have placed them here for you in one convenient spot on my blog.  Today’s Unicorn Book Feature is





The Last Unicorn





 By Peter S. Beagle

Collects the full six-issue miniseries THE LAST UNICORN!

Whimsical. Lyrical. Poignant. Adapted for the first time from the acclaimed and beloved novel by Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn is a tale for any age about the wonders of magic, the power of love, and the tragedy of loss. The unicorn, alone in her enchanted wood, discovers that she may be the last of her kind. Reluctant at first, she sets out on a journey to find her fellow unicorns, even if it means facing the terrifying anger of the Red Bull and the malignant evil of the king who wields his power.

Get it at Sybrina’s Blue Unicorn Book Store.

 Check out Journey To Osm – The Blue Unicorn’s Tale while you’re there, too.

If you like this post and others on this blog, scroll all the way down to the bottom left of this page anc click the FOLLOW button to receive more from Sybrina’s Book Blog.