S.K. Falls's Blog, page 10

Blood Rush by Ash Krafton

My friend, Ash Krafton (talented author, poet, and Pushcart nominee!), is promoting her urban fantasy series this week. If you like fast-paced, heart-pounding urban fantasy laced with subtle humor, you’ll love these books! As an incentive, her publisher has discounted the first book in the series, Bleeding Hearts–which, by the way, is a six-time RWA contest finalist and a Reviewer’s Top Pick at Grave Tells–to $2.99!

What’s Blood Rush about?

Sophie doesn’t believe in happily ever after. These days, she’d settle for alive after sunrise.

Advice columnist and newly-appointed oracle to the demivampire, Sophie Galen has more issues than a Cosmo collection: a new mentor with a mean streak, a werewolf stalker she can’t shake, and a relationship with her ex’s family that redefines the term complicated. And then there’s her ex himself, who is more interested in playing leader of the vampire pack than in his own salvation.

Becoming a better oracle is tough enough, but when Sophie encounters a deadly enemy – one she never dreamed of facing – it will take everything she’s ever learned in order to survive.

Check out the awesome excerpt Ash included for us to peruse:

I don’t believe in happily ever after. These days, I’d settle for alive until sunrise.

I never thought I’d become a nine-to-fiver. Certainly never thought I’d be too pre-occupied to make fun of myself for being one. Sometimes the irony was too great to appreciate.

While I waited for the elevator to arrive at The Mag’s foyer, I smoothed my scarf along the back of my neck and hefted my tote bag a little higher on my shoulder. Every chime increased my trepidation, tightening the fist of anxiety in my chest and the sensation of bees swarming in the top of my stomach. I hated quitting time.

More underappreciated irony. Why not?

People chatted around me but I fidgeted with my zipper, keeping my gaze lowered and my mouth closed. Leaving at five in the afternoon meant more than crammed elevators and crowded buses; it meant the light would fade soon and with it my peace of mind. The autumn wasn’t a happy golden foliage time of year for me anymore.

Although it was only early October, already the longer nights and shorter days made me feel nervous and brittle. Bad enough I didn’t have a sweetheart to share the long nights but even worse now that I knew what came out when the sun went down. Although I hadn’t had any problems with vampires over the last year, the threat never left my mind.

Vampires were out there. It was just a matter of time until I had to deal with them again.

Halfway during our descent, I felt a vibe. It was a mild one but, over the past year, my empathy had become sensitive to the point of being squirrely. The thin thread of power wound its way around each of the passengers as the DV who owned it checked out who else was in the car. When it reached me, it felt like a poke on the arm. I glanced over my shoulder, catching the eyes of an older dark-eyed woman near the back. She sent a tiny pulse of apology-laden power and lowered her eyes.

I smiled politely and concentrated on tugging my scarf loose. The DV didn’t approach me in public where any old human could see. We kept our dealings distant and private. That was the way I preferred.

The door opened and I flowed out with the crowd, sunglasses on and scarf over my hair. I hoped everyone would more or less continue on together today so I could hide in the crowd a bit longer.

Without turning my head, I saw a rail-thin guy, his scruffy head and jeans out of place amongst the exiting office employees. He leaned against the wall, scanning the people emerging from the other elevators. Seemed to have missed me—good. Taking shelter behind a taller woman and her chatty companion, I hustled out the front doors.

Outside, my luck ran out. My camouflaging crowd of co-workers suddenly scattered like roaches when the kitchen light is turned on. I hesitated, taking too long to pick a direction.

It was all he needed to spot me. I looked back through the glass into the foyer of The Mag’s building. He was on the move, eyes locked onto me.

I bolted.

Startled faces blurred past as I hurried through the five o’clock exodus, bumping into one man, dodging another, and rounding the corner at a speed unfitting for heeled pumps. Steve Madden would be horrified if he knew what I did in his shoes.

Well, Steve could kill me later. Right now, I was facing a much more immediate threat.

At the corner, a bus was loading and at this point I didn’t care if it was mine or not. An elderly lady with a big shopping bag struggled on the steps and I danced behind her like a first grader with a full bladder. Once she cleared the last step I leapt up, slamming my token into the fare box.

The door closed behind me just as my pursuer caught up. For once I was glad for the driver’s rude efficiency. The bus leveled and lurched forward. I grabbed the bar, almost swinging into the laps of the front seat passengers. As we pulled away from the curb, I met the man’s stare through the grimy glass of the door.

Rusted-orange eyes with wide pupils.

Non-people eyes.

Werewolf eyes.

I sank onto an empty seat, heart thumping, gradually slowing. Glancing up at the sign over the driver’s seat, I realized I’d ended up on the round-about route. Close enough for me. I tugged my necklace out of my shirt and kissed the pendant, my good luck charm, and offered a silent thankful thought to whatever divine powers had saved my behind, yet again.

Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a book of poetry and readied for a long ride home. Ironically, when I’d flipped to a random page, I opened to one of Dylan Thomas’s poems.

Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I had no energy left for rage. All I could muster was a thankful thought because at least today’s escape had gone better than most.

 

I am so excited for this release! Now go hang out with Ash on the web and tell me she is not one of the coolest writers out there!

 

Ash Krafton writes from the heart…of the Pennsylvania coal region, that is.

She is the author of the Books of the Demimonde (Pink Narcissus Press).

BLEEDING HEARTS (Demimonde #1) is a six-time RWA finalist and was voted “Reviewer Top Pick” by Gravetells.com. Ash continues the story of Sophie and her Demivampires in her latest release BLOOD RUSH (Demimonde #2). She’s hard at work (when she isn’t watching Doctor Who) writing the third book, WOLF’S BANE.

Ash Krafton’s poetry and short fiction has appeared in several journals, including Niteblade, Bete Noire, Abandoned Towers, and Silver Blade. She’s a member of Pennwriters, RWA, and Maryland Writers Association. She lurks near her blog and contributes to the QueryTracker blog.

Ash lives with her family and their German Shepherd dog deep in the Pennsylvania wilds, awaiting the day the TARDIS appears in the driveway (the dog most likely keeps the Doctor away. What a beast.)

Until then, she writes.

Find Ash on her blog, Facebook, Twitter, or Goodreads. 

 

Teaser Tuesday and Initiation Release

 

Okay, so firstly, Initiation (Fevered Souls #4) is now out! Yay! I can’t believe that this is the second to last installment before the season ends. And then I’ll be bundling it all up and releasing it as a novel! Double yay!

Also, today is Teaser Tuesdayyyy! The last TT before June 3rd…GULP. I’m sooo nervous and excited at the same time, it’s sort of ridiculous. Half of me is thrilled that reviewers seem to be liking it already, and the other half is like, “But that’s such a small sample! It might not be representative of the population! Everyone else might hate it! AUGHGUGHG!!!” o.O I guess time will tell… In the meantime, enjoy this teaser!

Sneak Peek Saturday!

 

It’s Sneeeeak Peeeeek Saturdayyyy!

Yeah, I totally made that up. But it has a certain ring to it, don’t you think? I’ve gotten quite a few emails and FB messages saying people are enjoying the snippets, so I thought I’d continue to post them till D-day…June 3rd! It’s coming up fast–woo hoo!

Without further ado, enjoy! (Click to enlarge.)

 

 

Teaser Tuesday: Secret for a Song

I’ve been doing updates on my Facebook page, but I know Facebook likes to pick and choose which people get to see those, so I thought I’d post them here as well. Reviewers seem to be liking Secret for a Song so far–yay! Here’s an excerpt. This is Saylor Grayson, ruminating on her illness. I think this is one of my favorite quotes because it really represents how she views her Munchausen, and how it feels to her.

 

Less than two weeks to go till release day!!

Fabulous YA sci-fi/romance by Katie French!

Friend, fellow author, and fabulously talented scribe, Katie French, has a brilliant science fiction-romance out today! It’s YA, and I’m only a few pages in, but I’m hooked already. Here she is with a hilarious, but candid, guest post!

How to Get Over it (Or, where is Kelly Clarkson when I need her)

By Katie French

 To put it mildly, rejection sucks worse than a vampire w/ emphysema. If you are like me, you hate the sting of someone putting you down, of knowing you didn’t meet expectations. I think writers in general are sensitive souls, the kind who can read eighty glowing reviews with a shrug, but if one bad one comes rolling in, they fold like card tables after Bingo night. The bad review has to be the only honest review, right? The rest of those reviewers were being nice or smoking the happy crack when they wrote them. Cue the soul-crushing, chocolate-bingeing depression.

I am a special kind of sensitive. I am what you might call a people pleaser. When I was a child if I did something bad, I often put myself in my bedroom before my parents could. All my caring father had to do was raise his voice in anger and I would burst into uncontrollable sobbing. And I never once received a detention or suspension. I cannot stand if I displease someone or they are unhappy with me. It makes my stomach churn, my pits sweat (thank you extra-strength deodorant) and my mind lock up. I’ll do anything I can to make it right.

So, when I read bad reviews, a kind of self-loathing blackness descends. Let’s look at a few, just for self-torture’s sake. These are for The Breeders and Nessa: A Breeders Story. (Not that you’ll likely want to buy them after reading these.)

“I wish I could give this zero stars. I just could not get into this book. I wanted to, but it was just not well written.”

“…as I get about 40% in I see some almost racist typecasting and it makes me disgusted that the author felt the need to do such a thing. It almost appears as though mexicans, native americans or even arabic muslims* are being depicted as barbaric and evil people. The use of language that the author uses for the Riders is blatant and I am almost regretting that I paid her money for this.”

“What a worthless story. Usually I find these stories add or clarify something from the main book. This did not. I’m not sure what the point of it was. And it was RIFE with errors. It’s only 39 pages! Give me a break.”

Yeah. Bring on the chocolate and sweatpants. I’m going to bed.

In all seriousness, we all need to learn to adapt to rejection. Writing, like other creative pursuits, invites critics. We ASK people to review and openly critique our work on view for the world. So, what do we do to handle it? Here are some of my unproductive rejection-fighting techniques.

1) Curl up into a ball, curse my life and decide I’m a brainless dolt who’d do better writing copy for laundry detergent bottles.

2) Imagine slow, painful torture to those who oppose me. Search through their reviews for spelling errors and laugh heartily when I find them.

3) Watch a lot of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Drink. 

Then, when I want to come out of my funk, I try these.

1) Hit the gym. Pump some butt-kicking music (i.e. Kelly Clarkson, Avril Lavigne and the like). Run until I feel like a person again. Punch something, hopefully a bag.

2) Reread the good reviews. Force myself to believe that all these people were not all drinking the same hallucinatorily upbeat Kool-aid.

3) Watch more It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Drink.

Either way, my motto is never give up. Write until those critics have nothing to say. Write until they have to admit that your next book wasn’t so “eh” after all. Just write. In the end, it’s all about how fulfilled I, not my critics, feel at the end of the day.

So, what about you? What do you do to kick rejection in the hiney?

 

BIO

Katie French is the author Eyes Ever to the Sky, a young adult sci fi romance that releases today, May 13th. Her other books include The Breeders, a young adult dystopian adventure, and Nessa: A Breeders Story, a prequel novelette both available on Amazon. You can find her on her website, or like her on Facebook or Twitter.

 

 

EYES EVER TO THE SKY

When Hugh wakes up in a smoldering crater–no memory, no clothes–a single thought echoes in his head…trust no one. Frightened and alone, with no memory of who he is, he stumbles upon a grisly murder scene and is shot by police. He wakes, only to find he can heal himself. He has superpowers and he’s going to need them.

Desperate and bleeding, Hugh stumbles upon fifteen-year-old Cece, who’s got enough troubles of her own. Between caring for her bipolar, out-of-work mother and trying not to get evicted from her run-down trailer, Cece may be the only person struggling as much as Hugh. Drawn to Hugh, Cece finds herself falling for him. But when the real killer–a man-hunting beast–chooses another victim, Hugh and Cece realize they must unlock the clues to their past if they have any chance at a future.

Amazon | Goodreads