Dangerously Forever by A.M. Griffin [BookBlitz + Giveaway]

DangerouslyForever

 SciFierotica

Erotic Romance / Sci-Fi

Date Published: December 26, 2014

 Loving Dangerously, Book Five

Being kidnapped by a deadly—and dead sexy—brothel slave wasn’t exactly what Kiehle Xochis signed up for. His instructions had been simple: Watch over the human female until his brother and his mate arrived to rescue her. Instead, the slave has decided to liberate herself. She’s proving to be more than Kiehle can handle—and he kind of likes it.

Allysan Miller has gone through hell since being taken from Earth during an invasion. She’s finally found a way to escape the latest, and worst, of the brothels she’s been sold to. Now if Ally plays her cards right, she could gain both freedom and love…if she can learn to trust the dangerous male she’s chosen as her hostage.

Inside Scoop: Ally suffers her share of abuse at the hands of a brothel owner’s guards. But don’t worry. The feisty female warrior gives as good as she gets.

A Romantica® SciFi erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

 

Excerpt

 

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: DANGEROUSLY FOREVER

Copyright © A.M. GRIFFIN, 2014

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Prologue

Taken: Year Three

 

Allysan Miller stood in the holding tank with the other women in the belly of the Loconuist vessel. On high alert—she was always on high alert—she scanned her surroundings.

This isn’t good.

It never was when the Loconuist corralled them in here. It meant that soon the double doors would open and some other alien species would come through and pick out which humans they wanted, and take them away.

Everyone thought the Loconuist were ugly, but some of the things that passed through the doors were horrific in comparison. But regardless of looks, no one ever wanted to leave with the aliens who passed through because of the unknown factor. Living on the Loconuist vessel was bad, but at least there was food and water, and the Loconuist themselves rarely bothered with them.

Ally looked through the crowd of frightened and confused women. Their numbers were steadily dropping.

How many of us are left? Seven hundred—maybe?

They meandered about, everyone on edge. Loved ones and friends stuck together, clutching each other. If there was going to be a “taking”, as everyone had begun to call it, by other aliens, it was best to try to go together.

It had been roughly three years since the invasion on Earth, since Ally had been trapped on the Loconuist vessel.

Three.

Long.

Years.

It was only natural that many of the prisoners had developed close bonds with each other, after all they’d been through. Seen. Done. They’d bonded under the worst possible circumstances. Some bonds had been forged here, others prior to the invasion on Earth.

The thought of Earth seemed like a distant memory. Almost as if the time before now never existed.

A dream.

Ally shook the invading thought from her head. Bringing up old memories would only serve to make her sad. There was no time for sadness right now. She kept her eyes focused on her surroundings, alert for anything out of place. Not all aliens stomped through the holding bay during a taking. No, some were sneakier than that. Some would mimic humans, observing before making their selections.

Everyone had a look of panic on their faces. No one seemed suspicious. They all anxiously waited to learn their fate.

What’s taking them so long to come?

Usually when the women were corralled, the taking took place soon after. But now, the minutes ticked by slowly. As time went on, the noise from the women became louder, more unbearable. There was crying, praying, shouting, talking and whispering all around.

There was no point in trying to block out the sounds. The walls echoed and voices projected.

“I wish they’d get it over with already,” Ally said.

“Me too.” Eva, her best friend, was by her side. She was a petite woman, but a force to be reckoned with. She stood about five-foot-four and weighed no more than a hundred pounds. When they first met, Eva’s black hair had been cropped short, but over the years it had grown and now fell to the middle of her back. On first glance, she could easily be mistaken for a teenager, and not her thirty-plus years.

Ally was as different from Eva as night was to day. Because of the lack of sunlight, both had pale skin, but Eva’s was still a lot darker than hers. Eva had been given up when she was young and didn’t know her heritage. She thought maybe she was mixed, African-American and Caucasian, or perhaps American Indian.

Ally was taller, standing five-foot-seven. Her blonde hair had always been full, long and wavy, but now appeared thin because of a lack of proper nutrition. And while Eva had crisp blue eyes, the kind you could never forget, Ally’s were a dull light blue—not memorable at all.

They came from two different worlds. Eva had worked hard for everything she had, while once upon a time, Ally had doting parents and a husband who’d made sure all her needs were met. She hadn’t been spoiled or anything. She had gotten good grades in high school, had gone to a decent college and gotten her dream job as a computer programmer at a Fortune 500 company. She’d never wanted for anything—not like Eva had when she was growing up.

No matter their differences, they were best friends and they stuck by each other, especially during times like these—they didn’t want to be separated during a taking. They’d seen families ripped apart. That wouldn’t happen with them. Eva was a kick-ass martial artist and Ally had spent the last few years training under her direction. She had lost her plump frame a long time ago. The hours she used to spend sitting in front of a computer developing programs were now spent sparring with Eva. Ally knew she couldn’t fight as well as her friend, but she also knew enough to leave her mark on anyone—anything that tried to take her.

“So what do you think will happen when there are no more buyers? Do you think the Loconuist will keep us?”

Eva kept her eyes fixed on the doors. “I really don’t think that’s an option. They’ll get rid of us. Eventually.”

“I hate feeling like we’re in a pet shop.”

Eva nodded. “You and me both.”

“I’m not going to be anyone’s pet willingly,” Ally growled. The sound vibrated in her chest.

Eva sighed, probably feeling just as frustrated as Ally. They’d been trapped on the vessel for three years. The first taking had been a chaotic, emotional mess. The Loconuist had rounded up everyone, ushering them from the common living areas to multiple rooms much like the one they stood in now. Not only had there still been men onboard at that time, but children as well.

Jim, her husband, had died just before that first taking. It hadn’t been the result of anything the Loconuist had done—or hadn’t done. But she hated them just the same. He’d died in his sleep. He’d been very sick since before the invasion, so she’d been expecting it, but it hadn’t made losing the love of her life any less painful.

“What’s the plan with this round? Are we going to try to get picked or try to stay here?” Ally asked.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to leave the ship yet. I vote that if they try to take us, we fight and stick together. Same as always.”

“Right. And if we get separated?”

“We won’t,” she said matter-of-factly.

We can’t.

Just as Ally finished that thought, the sirens sounded to alert them that the doors were opening. The voices in the room quieted to small whimpers. Ally stiffened and Eva became instantly alert. They both had their eyes trained on the doors, waiting to see what would come through.

 

 Author Bio

M. Griffin is a wife who rarely cooks, mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant A.M. Griffin picgalaxies.

 

Where you can find me:

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The Burden of Souls by Andy Monk [BookBlitz]

 

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Sci-Fi / Dark Fantasy

Date Published:September 2014

SciFi

Small Town, Dark Heart…

A long way from anywhere, on a road going nowhere, lays a small, unremarkable town. It seems a peaceable, prosperous little place, on the surface at least.

Away from prying eyes however, in the shadows and the forgotten corners, there is a web being weaved through the lives of its inhabitants by the town’s urbane and mysterious Mayor. A man prepared to make a deal for your heart’s desire and, maybe, for your very soul…

Welcome to Hawker’s Drift, a town where nothing is quite as it seems…

 

 Excerpt

Only three people trudged behind the coffin-laden wagon.

He assumed the woman in the black dress was the widow. Her face was veiled, but her back was straight and she moved as freely as the cloying mud allowed; a young widow. A small bookish man peering through rain-smeared spectacles laboured next to her, struggling to hold an umbrella over them both in the wind. Behind came a cadaverous looking old bird clutching a dog-eared bible to his chest. A preacher.

Amos pulled his horse to the side of the road; if that wasn’t too generous a description for two mud-choked ruts. It meandered towards a town that occupied a low slung hill; the only feature on the vast tableland of grass. He took off his hat and let the rain sting his face as the little procession passed. The widow glanced up at him hesitantly, before nodding an acknowledgement. From behind the shadows of her veil he got the impression of an attractive woman with no intention of crying. There was sadness, not unexpectedly, coming off of her, but interspersed with those dull grey waves came prickly spikes of fear too.

The preacher flicked a glance in his direction as well, but he quickly dropped his eyes and scurried along, his body bent forward against the driving rain. He looked terribly unhappy with his lot. The preacher was suffering, a physical pain beneath a terrible craving.

The third man, his jacket flapping in the breeze, ignored him, and Amos tried to do the same to the hot, fetid desire that was rolling off of him like a burning fever.

Whoever was being buried had not warranted much in the way of gestures from the rest of the town. What did you have to do to end up with only two mourners and a sour-faced preacher at your funeral?

As the wagon bearing the coffin rattled on towards the cemetery, signified by a small forest of crosses poking above the surrounding long grass, he let the rain wash the scent of their souls from the air before he replaced his hat and pushed his weary horse on towards the town.

Out here, where seas of grass washed towards too far away horizons and the earth squatted beneath colossal skies, it amounted to civilization.

He slipped his coat back and made sure his gun was free to draw.

Civilization, he had found, tended to suck.

 

Author Bio &  Links

Andy Monk lives in London with his partner and their goldfish.

After a high-flying academic career and glittering success in professional sport, followed by a jet-set lifestyle of wild parties, exotic holidays and beautiful women, he settled down to write internationally acclaimed best-selling novels.andy monk

Andy Monk has a tendency to exaggerate and has an occasionally tenuous grip on reality.

He does, however, have a goldfish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author Links

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Vortex by S.J. Kincaid [BookBlitz + Giveaway]

Nerd Blast

 

VORTEX

The impossible was just the beginning. Now in their second year as superhuman government weapons-in-training at the Pentagonal Spire, Tom Raines and his friends are mid-level cadets in the elite combat corps known as the Intrasolar Forces. But as training intensifies and a moment arrives that could make or break his entire career, Tom’s loyalties are again put to the test.

Encouraged to betray his ideals and friendships for the sake of his country, Tom is convinced there must be another way. And the more aware he becomes of the corruption surrounding him, the more determined he becomes to fight it, even if he sabotages his own future in the process.

Drawn into a power struggle more dramatic than he has ever faced before, Tom stays a hyperintelligent step ahead of everyone, like the exceptional gamer he is—or so he believes. But when he learns that he and his friends have unwittingly made the most grievous error imaginable, Tom must find a way to outwit an enemy so nefarious that victory seems hopeless. Will his idealism and bravado cost him everything—and everyone that matters to him?

Filled with action and intelligence, camaraderie and humor, the second book in S.J. Kincaid’s futuristic World War III Insignia trilogy continues to explore fascinating and timely questions about power, politics, technology, loyalty, and friendship.

You can purchase Vortex at the following Retailers:
    

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About S.J. Kincaid
Website
  

S.J. Kincaid was born in Alabama, grew up in California, and attended high school in New Hampshire, but it was while living beside a haunted graveyard in Scotland, that she realized that she wanted to be a writer. Her debut, Insignia, came out in July of 2012. The second book in the series, Vortex came out in July of 2013. The final book in the INSIGNIA trilogy will come out in Fall of 2014.

TWITTER: @SJKincaidBooks
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/SJKincaidBooks
WEBSITE: http://sjkincaid.com/

 

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Justice by Rebecca Royce [BookBlitz]

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Justice by Rebecca Royce

Genre: New Adult Urban Fantasy/ Post-Apocalyptic

ISBN: C 978-1-61333-629-8

Book Length: ## 147 pages

Publisher: ## Decadent Publishing

DESCRIPTION

My name is Rachel Clancy, and if you’re reading this, chances are I am dead. I have returned to Genesis, my family and Chad. I think I might even be happy. But you know, happy endings aren’t for everyone least of all me.

Dr. Icahn is still out there, and if I have any hope of finishing this fight once and for all—I will need the help of those who want to kill me. Please don’t think me a hero or a martyr. I’m just a girl, who’s made a lot of mistakes, but I know what I have to do.

And know, whatever happens next, I didn’t do it for me. I did it for a future that I have to have faith will exist…even if I’m not there to see it.

Goodreads link to book:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/19112830-justice?from_search=true

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

My name is Rachel Clancy.

If you’ve been reading these books, then you already know that. But I feel the need to introduce myself to you every time I start a new one, like you might have just found me, or you’re a stranger I don’t know. Manners dictate the introduction although I suspect I’ll never know your name in return, which is okay. Maybe it’s better I never do.

I haven’t held anything back from you. I’ve not tried to make myself look better or less selfish or more mature. No, I wrote down everything the way I remember it happening. Someone else might remember the events differently but this is how it happened for me, or at least how I see it when I think about the years between my sixteenth and eighteenth birthdays.

Eighteen would have made me a grown-up in the Before Time, in the days before Dr. Icahn’s experiments nearly ended the entire world. In the time after, sixteen became the year we achieved maturity. Still, for me, since I could remember what my life had been like before, eighteen meant something when I finally got there.

It indicated I had survived, somehow. When I blew out the candles, low-sung lyrics of “Happy Birthday” filling the room, and my mother and father cheering, I couldn’t help but disbelieve I’d actually made it to my birthday. Was this all a dream? Had I died on a field, eaten by a Werewolf, and these thoughts of my eighteenth birthday were imaginings of my dying mind?

Writing these tales, telling them to you, helps me to believe they happened.

But the sad truth is, if you are reading them, then most likely I am dead.

Contact Links

Website: www.rebeccaroyce.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Rebecca-Royce/172551376131638

Twitter:   www.twitter.com/rebeccaroyce

 Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Rebecca-Royce/e/B004E50FPW

 

 

Chasing the Star Garden by Melanie Karsak [BookBlitz+Giveaway]

Chasing the Star Garden Banner Tour 450 x 169

 

Chasing the Star Garden_Melanie Karsak_D3

Chasing the Star Garden
The Airship Racing Chronicles

Book I

Melanie Karsak

Genre: Alternative History/Gaslamp-Steampunk

Publisher: Clockpunk Press

Date of Publication: December 4th, 2013

ISBN: 978-0615878775

ISBN-10: 0615878776

Number of pages: 325

Word Count:  70,000

Cover Artist: Damonza

Blurb

An opium-addicted beauty.

An infamous poet living in self-imposed exile.

An ancient treasure about to fall into the wrong hands.

Melanie Karsak’s “Chasing the Star Garden” takes the reader on an exciting adventure from the gritty opium dens of gaslamp London to the gem-colored waters of the ancient world, introducing us Lily Stargazer, a loveable but reckless airship racer with a famous lover and a shattered past.

Lily Stargazer is having a bad day. She just lost the London leg of the 1823 Airship Grand Prix. To top it off, a harlequin fleeing from constables shoved a kaleidoscope down her pants, told her to fly to Venice, then threw himself from her airship tower.

What’s a girl to do? For Lily, the answer is easy: drink absinthe and smoke opium.

Lily’s lover, Lord Byron, encourages her to make the trip to Venice. Lily soon finds herself at the heart of an ancient mystery which has her running from her past and chasing true love and the stars along the way.

 

 

Excerpt   

Chapter 1

 I was going to lose-again. I gripped the brass handles on the wheel hard and turned the airship sharply port. The tiller vibrated in protest making the wheel shake and my wrist bones ache. Bracing my knees against the spokes, I tore off my brown leather gloves to get a better feel. The metal handgrips were smooth and cold. My fingers tingled from the chill.

“Easy,” I whispered to the Stargazer. I looked up from my position at the wheelstand, past the ropes, burner basket, and balloon, toward the clouds. They were drifting slowly left in a periwinkle blue sky. There would be an updraft as we passed over the green brown waters of the canal near Buckingham House. I locked the wheel and jumped from the wheelstand onto the deck of the gondola and looked over the rail. The canal waters were about a hundred feet away. I ran back to the wheel and steadied the ship. If I caught the updraft, it would propel me up and forward, giving me an edge.

“Cutter caught it, Lily,” Jessup yelled down from the burner basket below the balloon opening. “Up he goes,” he added, looking out through his spyglass. The gold polish on the spyglass reflected the fire from the burner.

“Dammit!” I snapped down my binocular lense. I saw Hank Cutter’s red and white striped balloon rise upward. At the top, he pitched forward with great momentum, catching a horizontal wind. I could just make out Cutter at the wheel. His blond hair blew wildly around him. He turned and waved to me. Wanker.

I was not as lucky. Just as the bow of the Stargazer reached the water, a stray wind came in and blew me leeward. The balloon jiggled violently in the turbulent air. I missed the air pocket altogether.

“No! No, no, no!” I cursed and steadied the ship. I had chased Cutter from Edinburgh across the Scottish and English countryside. He had been off his game all day. I’d had him by half a mile the entire race. With the bottom feeders lingering somewhere in the distance behind us, I’d thought the London leg of the 1823 Airship Grand Prix would be mine. That was until St. Albans, where Cutter caught a random breeze that pushed him slightly in front of me. Cutter had a knack for catching favorable winds; it was not a talent I shared.

“We’re coming up on Westminster,” Jessup called from the basket. “Lily, drop altitude. Cutter is too high. Come in low and fast, and you might overtake him.”

The airship towers sat at the pier near the Palace of Westminster along the Thames. A carnival atmosphere had overtaken the city as it always does on race day. There were colorful tents set up everywhere. Vendors hawked their wares to the excited Londoners and international visitors. Even from this distance, I could hear the merchants barking from their tents. I even fancied I could smell roasted peanuts in the wind.

I jumped down from the wheelstand, ran across the deck, and pulled the valve cord, opening the flap at the top of the balloon. Hot air released with a hiss. I kept one eye on the balloon and another eye on Tinkers’ Tower. At this time of day, the heat coming off of the Palace of Westminster and Tinkers’ Tower would give you a bump. I looked up. Cutter had started preparing his descent. It would be close.

I ran back to the wheel.

“Angus, I need more speed,” I yelled down to the gear galley, rapping on the wooden hatch that led to the rods, belts, and propeller parts below.

Angus slapped open the hatch and stuck out his bald head. His face was covered in grease, and his blue-lense monocle glimmered in the sunlight. He looked up at the clouds and back at me.

“Let’s giddyup,” I called to him.

“You trying the Tower sling?” he yelled back.

“You got it.”

He laughed wildly. “That’s my lassie,” he yelled and dropped back down, pulling the wood hatch closed with a clap. I heard the gears grind and the propeller, which had been turning nice and steady, hummed loudly. The ship pitched forward. Within moments, we were coming up on Tinkers’ Tower. The airship towers were just a stone’s throw away.

I aimed the ship directly toward Tinkers’ Tower. Just as the bowsprit neared the clock, I yanked the wheel. The warm air caught us.

“Whoa!” Jessup yelled as the balloon moved within arm’s length of the tower.

The sound of “Ohhs!” echoed from the crowd below.

A mix of warm air and propulsion gave us some go, and seconds later we were slingshotting around Tinkers’ Tower toward the airship platforms. Gliding in on warm air and momentum, we flew fast and low.

Cutter had kept it high, but now he was dropping like a stone toward his own tower. Damned American. I didn’t blame him; I would have used the same move. His balloon was releasing so much air that I wondered if he would be able to slow down in time, not that I wouldn’t mind seeing him smash to the ground in a million pieces.

“It’s going to be close,” Jessup yelled as he adjusted the heat pan.

I guided the helm. The Stargazer was temperamental, but we understood one another. A shake of the wheel warned me I was pushing too hard. “Almost there,” I whispered to the ship.

The Grand Prix Marshalls were standing on the platform. Cutter and I had the end towers. I was going to make it.

“Cut propulsion,” I yelled toward the gear galley. On the floor near the wheelstand was a rope attached to a bell in the galley. I rang it twice. The propeller switched off.

A soft, sweet wind blew in from the port side. It ruffled my hair around my shoulders. I closed my eyes and turned the wheel slightly starboard, guiding the ship in. As the bowsprit scooped into the opening of the tower, I heard a jubilant cheer erupt from the American side and an explosion from the firework cannon signaling the winner had been declared.

My eyes popped open. I tore off my goggles and looked starboard. Cutter’s balloon was parked. I threw the goggles onto the deck and set my forehead against the wheel.

The Stargazer settled into her tower. Jessup set the balloon on hover and, grabbing a rope, swung down to the deck. He then threw the lead lines and anchors onto the platform. The beautifully dressed crowd, gentlemen in suits and top hats and fancy ladies in a rainbow of satin gowns and parasols, rushed toward the American end of the platform to congratulate the winner.

I was, once again, a national disgrace. Lily the loser. Lily second place. Perhaps I would never be anything more than a ferrywoman, a cheap air jockey.

“Good job, Lily. Second place!” Jessup said joining me. He patted me on the shoulder.

I sighed deeply and unbuttoned my vest. The tension had me sweating; I could feel it dripping down from my neck, between my breasts, into my corset.

“You did great,” I told Jessup. “Sorry I let you down.”

“Ah, Lily,” he sighed.

Angus emerged from below wiping sweat from his head with a greasy rag. He pulled off his monocle. He frowned toward the American side. “Well, we beat the French,” he said with a shrug and kissed me on the cheek, smearing grease on me.

 “Good job, Angus. Thank you,” I said taking him by the chin and giving him a little shake as I wrinkled my nose and smiled at him.

Angus laughed and dropped his arm around Jessup’s shoulders. They grinned happily at one another.

“You stink, brother,” Jessup told him.

“It’s a wee bit toasty down there. Besides, I pedaled this ship across the entire fucking country while ya were up here looking at the birds. That, my friend, is the smell of success.”

I laughed.

“You pedaled the ship?” Jessup said mockingly. “Like Lil and I were just up here playing cards? If I didn’t keep the balloon aloft, your ass would be kissing the ground.”

“Now wait a minute. Are ya saying your job is more important that mine?” Angus retorted.

I could see where this was going. “Gents.”

“More important? Now why would I say that? Just because I’m the one . . .” Jessup started and then his mouth ran.

“Gents.”

“ . . . and another thing . . .” Jessup went on.

“Gentlemen! Our audience awaits,” I said cutting them both off, motioning to the well-shod crowd who waited for us on the loading platform outside the Stargazer.

I grinned at my crew. “Come on. Let’s go.”

I patted the rail of the Stargazer. “Thanks,” I whispered to her, and we exited onto the platform.

A reporter from the London Times and several race officials stood waiting for me.

“Well done, Lily! Well done!” the British race official congratulated me with a pat on the back. “Second place! King George will be so proud. One of these days you’ll have it, by God.”

I was pretty sure that the last thing I needed was the attention of George IV, the extravagant, unpopular lush. But I bit my tongue and smiled politely.

“Lily, how did Cutter beat you? You led the entire race,” the reporter, a round woman wearing a very thick black lace collar which looked like it was choking her, asked me. Her heavy purple walking dress looked hot under the late afternoon summer sun. The brim of her black satin cap barely shaded her nose. I noticed then, however, that she had a small clockwork fan pin attached to her chest. The fan wagged cool air toward her face.

I pulled off my cap, mopped my forehead, and thought about the question. “Luck,” I replied.

“Lily, that was some move around Tinkers’ Tower. How did you learn to do that?” another reporter asked.

“My father,” I lied.

“Make way, make way,” one of the race officials called, ushering a Marshall forward.

The Marshall looked like someone who lingered an hour too long at supper. The gold buttons on his marigold satin vest would take an eye out if they popped. His overly tall top hat was adorned with a ring of flowers that matched his striking orange colored dress coat.

“Miss Stargazer, congratulations,” he said, shaking my hand. “The Spanish airship is coming in now. Will you please join Mr. Cutter at the winners’ podium?” he asked politely as he guided me forward by the hand.

From below there was a commotion. A man dressed in an unusual costume was rushing up the stairs. What looked like a full squadron of the Bow Street Runners, the London constables, were chasing him. When he got to the loading platform, the man pushed through a crowd of well-dressed ladies and gentlemen, many of whom were gentry. It was then I could see he was dressed as a harlequin. He wore the traditional red and black checked outfit and a black mask. He scanned the towers and caught sight of me. He jumped, landing on the tower railing, and ran toward me. A woman in the crowd screamed. Moments later the constables appeared on the platform. The race Marshalls pointed toward the harlequin who was making a beeline for me.

I let go of the Marshall’s hand and stepped back toward the ship.

“Lily,” Jessup warned, moving protectively toward me.

Angus reached over the deck of the Stargazer and grabbed a very large wrench.

Was it an assassin? Christ, would someone murder me for winning second place? I turned then and ran toward the Stargazer. A moment later, the harlequin flipped from the rail, grabbed one of the Stargazer’s ropes, and swinging over the others, landed on the platform directly in front of me. Any second now, I would be dead.

“Lily?” he asked from behind the mask.

“Stop that man! Stop him!” a constable yelled.

“Get out of my way!” Angus roared at the crowd that had thronged in between us.

The masked man grabbed me, tugged on the front of my trousers, and leaned into my ear. The long nose of the mask tickled my face. “Go to Venice,” he whispered as he stuffed something down the front of my pants.

“We got you now,” a constable said, grabbing him, raising his club.

The man shook him off, took two steps backward, and with a jump, leapt off the tower.

Several people in the crowd screamed.

I rushed to the side of the tower to see the harlequin lying at its base. His body was twisted oddly. Blood began pooling around him.

“Miss Stargazer, are you all right?” a constable asked.

“A man just killed himself in front of me. No, I am not all right.”

“I mean, are you harmed? Did he hurt you?”

I shook my head and looked down at the mangled body whose twisted form made the shape of a three-sided triskelion. It was the same symbol that was painted on the balloon of the Stargazer.

Melanie Karsak Author Pic by Orange Moon Studios

Author Bio

Melanie Karsak grew up in rural northwestern Pennsylvania where there was an abysmal lack of entertainment, so she turned to reading and hiking. Apparently, rambling around the woods with a head full of fantasy worlds and characters will inspire you to become an author. Be warned. Melanie wrote her first novel, a gripping piece about a 1920s stage actress, when she was 12. A steampunk connoisseur, white elephant collector, and caffeine junkie, the author now resides in Florida with her husband and two children. Melanie is an Instructor of English at Eastern Florida State College.

 

 

 

 

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1) Grand prize is a Kindle Fire HDX Table and an autographed copy of Chasing the Star Garden

2) Second place, an autographed copy of Chasing the Star Garden (5 winners)

3) Third place, 20 ebook copies of Chasing the Star Garden (20 winners)

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The School of Ministry: The Windgate by Braxton A. Cosby [BookBlitz + Giveaway]

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The School of Ministry

By: Braxton Cosby

BLURB

 TO CHOOSE, IS FATE!

A young man named Ziv struggles to find his place in life after both of his parents are murdered. Orphaned and alone by the age of six, he bounces in and out of foster homes hopeless and afraid, wondering if he will ever find a path to happiness. He resolves to accept a life of depravity, until one day he discovers he possesses the gift of sight: to see creatures from the afterlife, but not angels…demons!

Ziv is recruited by The School of Ministry, a secret society that promises to help him find his best friend Stephanie, who has gone missing. But there is one catch: he must agree to join them in their quest to eradicate evil and protect the weak. Ziv learns that he is a “Conduit,” which allow him to cross over into the spirit world and transcend time itself. When he is partnered with two other young men who have similar gifts, the unlikely trio is trained in the mastery of weapons and the art of Shouting, during treacherous challenges of the tortuous Quad in preparation for their mission: to secure the Windgate.

Entrenched in a quest of identity and love, he will eventually come face to face with pure evil itself-Akabod, the spiritual prodigal son to the School of Ministry and a master of talents.

 

Cover

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Mr. C. takes a deep breath and spits it out. “It is Stephanie. She’s here. We found her.”
Time seems to stand still as Stephanie’s name rang through my eardrums. My heart rate increases. 
“She…Stephanie’s here? Well, where is she? When can I see her?” I head toward the door.
 
“She’s safe.” Maxwell halts me. “She’s being detained in one of the fifth floor containment units where she will be under close surveillance. She is not to come out until we have assured our own safety.” 
My voice cracks. “What do you mean detained? Is Stephanie considered a threat?” 
“She was picked up by one of our scout teams in the northeast. We think she may be involved in witchcraft.” 
I lean back in my chair, snickering. “Witchcraft? Come on. You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”
 “We would certainly hope not,” he warns, not sounding the least bit confident. “But there is only one way to be sure. We have to put her through the Purge.”
“No,” I scream, as my heart pounds against my chest wall. 
“It’s the only way to be sure, son.” Mr. C. places his hand on my shoulder. 
I drop my head, struggling to hold back the tears welling up in my eyelids. “Can I see her?” 
“No!” Maxwell’s tone scorches my ears. “Unequivocally—no! Not under any circumstances. She must go through the Purge first. Then there will be time to visit her. If she survives, that is.”
I storm to the window and look down at the cross. My mind drifts to thoughts of freedom, away from this place: just me and Stephanie, all alone. This is what I came here for—to free her. My hands fist at my sides. She can’t go through the Purge. All I want is for things to go right for once in my life. But it hasn’t and never will if I don’t start dictating back. I didn’t want any of this for her. I didn’t ask for my family to be torn apart. I didn’t ask to be born an orphan. Yet, for some reason, I continue to be a doormat. 
I want more than this!
“Ziv,” Mr. C. says.
 
If only I could see her again. Her eyes would tell me the truth.
“Dr. Ethridge will be conducting the interrogation. She will be in the best care. You have my word on that.”
A surge of heat pours through my stomach and I ask, “Is that the complete truth?”
“Yes,” Maxwell warns, “and don’t question the authority at hand. Be mindful to stay in your place.” 
“Fifth floor, huh?” The words spill from my mouth.
I face Mr. C. and Maxwell, who stand blocking the door. A heap of air gusts from my mouth and I shout, “Sit Down!”
My voice, covered in thunder, explodes throughout the room and bounces off the walls. A small vase on the table shatters, sending ceramic shards everywhere. Mr. C. and Maxwell tremble and collapse to the floor, landing on their backsides before crossing their legs.
I storm past them. 
Maxwell reaches out a hand and sarcastically utters, “Nice…technique!”
Breaking to the back corridors, I run to avoid guards. I know I only have a few seconds to spare before Maxwell and Mr. C. are back on their feet. The elevators would be too slow, so I take the stairs, skipping multiple steps as I float down, using the handrails to propel me. The jolts of my knee joints are barely noticeable as I land and quickly pounce to the next level below. As I reach level five, the alarm blares overhead, along with an unfamiliar announcement about some code that I haven’t invested enough time in to recognize. I race past a crowd of onlookers before they can identify me, bumping a young man off his feet as I turn the corner and head toward the detainment room. 
I fling the doors open, where a pack of burly built men stand waiting for me. They are unarmed, but more than husky enough to take me out with one or two well-placed punches. 
 
Then I would not see her again, wasting this adrenaline filled romp. 
“Stand down sir,” one of the men yells, pointing a weighty fist at me. 
The air is pregnant with potential. I bite down on my bottom lip, straining to hide a smile.
Steady, the words pour out, “Don’t you mean,” and I shout, “Sit Down!” 
All five men stagger and fall to the ground, one at a time like dominoes. I step over them, lifting the set of keys from one of their hands, while I whistle. Pressing forward, I reach the room and insert the key. The swooshes in my chest have suddenly merged, creating one large rhythmic pulsation as I anticipate seeing Stephanie again. I open the door and there she sits, alone on a bench with her head in her hands.
She looks up at me and asks, “Ziv, is that you?” 
Her mouth seems to move in slow motion and her voice travels through the air in asynchronous fashion. 
“Yes, it’s me!” I slam the door behind me.
Thoughts of hugging her transform my brisk walk into a run as I pull her close. The softness of her body is pure kryptonite to me and I melt away like ice. Time stands still as my heart stops and my emotions freeze. I’m not quite sure if it’s the safe or something else at work, but my fear and doubt have completely left me. Nothing else matters at this moment—nothing but Stephanie. All those words of truth and trust have been cast aside as well. And it’s going to take a miracle to bring them back. 

 

 

 BIO

Braxton

Multi-Award-Wining Author Braxton A. Cosby is a dreamer who evolved from concepts on pen and paper to pixels and keyboards. He tells stories that evoke emotions and stimulate thought. Protostar: Book 1 The Star-Crossed Saga and The School of Ministry: The Windgate are currently two Young Adult series he created. Braxton lives in Georgia with his wife, three children and a troop of crazy African Cichlids

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Project Integrate Series by Jamie Campbell [BookBlitz]

 

The Project Integrate Series – Release Blitz

By Jamie Campbell

Young Adult Sci-Fi Romance
Date to be Published: 12/1/2013
 
United They Stand.
Seventeen years ago an entire generation of aliens were sent to Earth in order to save their home planet and integrate into the human population. Now, those aliens are being hunted.
Amery Jones is your typical teenager, except for the fact she is an alien and a member of the government’s secret Project Integrate.
When Amery’s best friend Lola is kidnapped in order to get to her, there is only one person that can help – the exceedingly annoying and charming Lochie Mercury.
Together, Amery and Lochie must put aside their differences and attraction in order to rescue Lola before it’s too late.
EXCERPT
   I tried to pay attention to the rest of the lesson, I knew I needed to know the particulars of the project but it was hard to imagine doing it with Lochie. We had known each other since we were little, we started school on the same day and had been in most classes together ever since.
   I think my hatred started for him that first day. He pushed me into the sandpit where I landed with a decisive thud. All of his newly acquired friends laughed at me. I didn’t have any friends to come to my aide so I just had to push myself out of the pit and dust off the sand. I think I’ve been dusting off that sand every day ever since. And it was all because of Lochie.
   I was supposed to be nice to everyone, that was part of the deal. I had to be kind, friendly, and lovable. If I was anything but, then I could potentially be removed from the project. When I was little I might have been okay with being pulled, but not now. Not after I’ve spent seventeen years here.
   To lose my placing just because of Lochie would be like rubbing salt into my wounds – except a thousand times worse. So while I knew how I should act towards him, I still couldn’t. Not when one look at him made me want to pull my own eyeballs out of their sockets.

 

About the Author

Jamie Campbell
Jamie was born into a big, crazy family of 6 children. Being the youngest, she always got away with anything and would never shut up. Constantly letting her imagination run wild, her teachers were often frustrated when her ‘What I did on the weekend’ stories contained bunyips and princesses.Growing up, Jamie did the sensible things and obtained a Bachelor of Business degree from Southern Cross University and worked hard to gain her membership with the Institute of Chartered Accountants in Australia.Yet nothing compared to writing. Quitting the rat race to spend quality time with her laptop named Lily, Jamie has written several novels and screenplays. Spanning a number of genres and mediums, Jamie writes whatever inspires her from ghost stories to teenage love stories to tantalising murder mysteries. Nothing is off limits.A self-confessed television addict, dog lover, Taylor Swift fan, and ghost hunter, Jamie loves nothing more than the thrill of sharing her stories.

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Seducing Anne by Chanse Lowell [BookBlitz + Giveaway]

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Seducing Anne Blog Tour

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Seducing Anne imprint cover

Title: Seducing Anne
Author: Chanse Lowell
Genre: Sci-fi Erotica
Expected Release Date: November 29th 2013

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Symptoms of time travel are never fun—ask Guy Moore. He just returned, and now he’s being thrown back in time. His assignment? To impregnate Anne Boleyn. As an agent of SHROAG, he’s completed more assignments than any other agent, and is ready to retire. Too bad Elizabeth I needs to be born to preserve history, and his DNA is the only one to do it. How will Guy seduce Anne, the woman who kept Henry VIII at arm’s length for over seven years? And how will he keep from falling for her in his efforts?

 

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“I will be there tonight—for you. Not for him. And I will touch you. If you do not want me to do that, then I will not be there.”
She sucked in some air, and her gaze went up to the ceiling.
“Lavender lady—do you want me there? Do you want me to touch you in front of the king and everyone else?”
She remained mute and stoic.
“When you make a decision, find me. I will await your answer.” He dropped his grip, releasing her chin.
“Yes, sir.”
“What was that? Are you saying I can touch you at dinner?”
“Yes, sir,” she repeated.
His groin tightened. She really was sweet and very beautiful, and her submissiveness came to her naturally when she wasn’t struggling to fit herself into a man’s world.
“I will protect you. I will be there for you, and Henry will not touch you while I am around. If I am to play with you, then you are mine. No one else’s. I do not share, Lady Anne. So, when you are ready to take him as your lover, then you release me, and I will be gone from your life.”
She made a quiet whimpering noise and her eyes twisted as if in pain.
“Look at me—eyes on mine,” he said.
Her gaze roamed down to his.
“As your lord and sir, you will always wear your hair down like this when you are around me. I want it soft, straight and virginal—pure like you. I want you always smelling of lavender and finding some way to please me each day, even if it is something small.”
She sagged for a moment. Were her knees buckling on her?
He gripped her by the upper arms. “Follow these guidelines, and I am at your disposal. Any time you need me, you ask, and I will be there.”
Her lips drifted into a small, but sweet, smile. “Thank you, sir.”
“You are a naturally kind woman. Court life has hardened you—and I intend to undo that.”
Her face fell.
His hands on her arms loosened.
“That would be the death of me. We all have parts to play at court,” she said, her voice soft.
“And you have yours—serve and please me, and you will have everything you have ever desired. That I vow.”

CONTENT WARNING — This story contains scenes of an explicit, erotic nature and is intended for adults, 18+. Story includes bondage, dirty talk with crude language, dubious consent, and graphic consensual sex. There is also a graphic birthing scene that some might find offensive. Characters portrayed are 18 or older.

 

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BIO

 

 

Chanse Lowell grew up in the desert southwest and still lives there with her husband, children, and pet cactus. She’s addicted to three things—reading erotica, writing erotica and sandwiches with a side of erotica to aid with digestion. She grew up watching programs with science fiction and historical fiction themes, and is determined she can combine her three favorite genres, creating a new breed of novel with scifi, historical and smut sandwiched in the middle.

The last thing she ever thought she’d do was pursue her dream to be a writer since her family tends to keep her busy. When she was introduced to fan fiction, she realized she wanted to see more science fiction and historical fiction to fill in the gap with lots of naughtiness thrown in, of course. Her true passion is creating her own worlds from scratch, letting her imagination go and take her toChanse_Lowell another place.

Having recently entered the BDSM lifestyle and discovering she’s a submissive herself has opened her eyes to how few stories there are exploring the softer side of the lifestyle. She enjoys chatting online with others with similar kinky interests and has advisers in the lifestyle that help make sure her stories remain true and don’t veer off into outer space. Although aliens probably enjoy kink, too, since they like to dress in rubber fetish-wear while traveling. At least that’s her argument for why her new genre she’s created is valid

 

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The Hellequin Chronicles by Steve McHugh [BookBlitz]

Introduction Tour of Steve McHugh’s Hellequin Chronicles.

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Small Time Vengeance

A short story that takes place just before the beginning of Crimes Against Magic, the first book in the Hellequin Chronicles. This can be seen on my blog.

 

Near Soissons, France 1414.

The only reason the man wasn’t dead was because he hadn’t taken part in the raid. He swung gently from the rope I’d wrapped around his chest and under his arms, before I’d hoisted him off the ground. After gaining the information I’d needed about his friends, a cloth gag ensured he would make no sound, and if he woke up and thought about making problems, the four corpses of his comrades, lying clearly visible below him, would prove I wasn’t someone he wanted pissed off.

The four had died while they slept, their throats cut without a sound by the light of their campfire. They’d deserved no less, but my anger would be saved for the man who truly deserved it, the chief of the bandits I’d decimated.

I sat on the thick branch of the old oak tree, high above the ground, watching the man swing slowly back and forth beneath me.

My patience was rewarded as the moon reached its fullest and the sound of laughter came through the forest. The newcomers called to their friends in the camp, their laughter dying when there was no reply. Weapons were drawn and their leader barked orders, as he realised that there would be no answer from his erstwhile followers.

I stepped off the branch and white glyphs erupted over the backs of my hands and up my arms, as my air magic slowed my descent. When I was just over head height with the bandits, I forced the magic down toward my feet, so that I smashed into the ground with a roar. Leaves and dirt were thrown into the air, causing enough confusion and panic that the two closest bandits died before the leaves had drifted back to the earth. A blade of white-hot fire cut through their throats as I moved past them, out of the clearing and into the darkness of the forest, where the blade vanished from my hand.

Four were left in the circle of their camp, their eyes flickering frantically at the merest hint of movement.

The chief grabbed the nearest minion and pushed him. “Get in there and find him,” he barked.

I used my fire magic to see in the dark, turning my vision into a mixture of reds and oranges without casting any visible light from me.

Two large men crept into the forest, their daggers drawn. I moved behind them and took the first one with a blade of air into the base of his skull, almost decapitating him. He fell forward, alerting his companion who turned toward the noise, only to have a gust of air lift him off his feet and crash him into a nearby tree. The angle of his neck suggested he wouldn’t get back up.

“What are you fucking idiots doing in there?” the chief shouted from the tree line, his voice full of barely concealed anxiety.

I charged out of the forest and caught him in the jaw with a blast of air that threw him onto the ground.

I sprinted to the final bandit and he swiped at me with his sword, but I dodged aside and broke his knee with a swift kick. He screamed in pain and fell back, but I caught him and snapped his neck before he hit the ground.

The chief had gotten back to his feet and drawn a dagger, waving it in my direction. A gust of hardened air removed the danger and a second shattered his arm. He howled in pain and I punched him in the stomach, doubling him up, and then pushed him onto the ground.

“Who are you?” The chief’s voice was raspy with pain.

The noise had woken the hanging man, and he watched wide-eyed as I picked up the dagger and crouched beside his boss.

“You terrorised that village. You went there time and time again to steal and have your fun. And when a boy of twelve stood up to you, you murdered him in front of his parents and maimed the man who tried to stop you.”

I smiled down at the chief as fear oozed out of him. “You did everything in your power to break them. But you know what? When I arrived there two days ago, the first thing they did was offer me hospitality.

“They warned me of you and your bandits. They made sure I was going the other way. They wanted to keep me safe from you. Even though you tortured those people, you couldn’t break them.”

“So?” he groaned as I placed the tip of the dagger against his stomach, drawing blood.

“So, clearly you’re very bad at your job. And someone that terrible needs to be shown how to do it properly. So allow me to educate you on the fine art of breaking someone.”

The chief’s screams and pleas lasted only a short time. I gained no enjoyment from what I did, but it needed doing.

The surviving bandit begged me to spare him as I cut him down and removed his gag.

I nodded. “But you’re going to do something for me in return for your life.”

“Anything,” he said immediately.

“You’re going to gather up every last coin and item of worth from your fellow bandits here, and you’re going to take it back to the village you stole it from. You will do this tonight. You will beg for forgiveness. And if you fail to do any of these things, I will find you.” I dragged him over to the body of his chief.

“And I will make what I did to him appear as a tap on the wrist, are we clear?”

The man nodded repeatedly.

“One more question,” I said. “Have you heard about Soissons?”

“You don’t want to go there. The French army murdered everyone. I’ve heard stories of monsters and demons roaming the city.”

“Monsters and demons?” I smiled. “Sounds like my kind of city.”

BLURB

 

McHugh_Crimes_Against_Magic_cvr_FINALThe next book in the series is Book One in the Hellequin Chronicles:

It’s been almost ten years since Nathan Garrett woke on a cold warehouse floor with nothing but a gun, a sword, and no idea of who he was or how he got there. His only clue … a piece of paper with his name on it. Since then, he’s discovered he’s a powerful sorcerer and has used his abilities to work as a thief for hire. But he’s never stopped hunting for his true identity, and those who erased his memory have never stopped hunting for him. When the barrier holding his past captive begins to crumble, Nathan swears to protect a young girl who is key to his enemy’s plans. But with his enemies closing in, and everyone he cares about becoming a target for their wrath, Nathan is forced to choose between the life he’s built for himself and the one buried deep inside him.

Crimes Against Magic is an Urban Fantasy set in modern day London with Historical flashbacks to early fifteenth century France. It’s book one of the Hellequin Chronicles, a series about Nathan (Nate) Garrett, a centuries old sorcerer.

Book Links:

Amazon Ι Amazon UK Ι Goodreads

You can read the Prologue, Chapter 1 and Chapter 2.

 

Blurb:

There are some things even a centuries-old sorcerer hesitates to challenge… McHugh_Born_of_Hatred_cvr_FINAL (1)

When Nathan Garret’s friend seeks his help investigating a bloody serial killer, the pattern of horrific crimes leads to a creature of pure malevolence, born of hatred and dark magic. Even with all his powers, Nate fears he may be overmatched. But when evil targets those he cares about and he is confronted by dire threats both old and new, Nate must reveal a secret from his recently remembered past to remind his enemies why they should fear him once more.

Born of Hatred, set in modern London with historical flashbacks to America’s Old West, continues the dark urban fantasy of Crimes Against Magic, the acclaimed first book in the gritty and action-packed Hellequin Chronicles.

Book Links:

Amazon Ι Amazon UK Ι Goodreads

You can read the prologue and first chapter

 

BIO

Steve McHugh lives in Southampton on the south coast of England with his wife and three young daughters. When not writing or spending time with his kids, he enjoys watching movies, reading books and comics, and playing video games.

 

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Counterpoint by Daniel Rafferty [BookBlitz]

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Counterpoint Cover

Title: Counterpoint

Author: Daniel Rafferty

Genre: Scifi/Fantasy

 

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Move over “War of the Worlds,” we’ve got bigger issues to deal with now!  In author Daniel Rafferty’s “Counterpoint,” things aren’t always as they seem—but what, exactly, does that mean?   Is it time for the fight to the end between good and evil, Heaven and Hell? Is it the beginning of Armageddon and the end of time?

It all starts out innocently enough when 12-year-old Mary asks her father where he’s off to, which happens to be one of mankind’s worst endeavours, a World War.  But the story quickly moves beyond earthly boundaries, with angels, demons, the devil, archangels and even humans with supernatural powers, coming together to fight a battle between right and wrong, good and evil.  And the powers-that-be are acting on God’s behalf, but is he just watching from a distance to see what happens? What’s God’s role in all of this—and will he be back to save the day—does he even still exist?

You may think you know the storyline, with so many familiar biblical names being thrown about like fresh holy water; however, there are strange twists and turns that’ll leave you wondering who the good guys and bad guys really are. Is Lucifer actually the devil incarnate or do we humans have it all wrong?  Is Archangel Michael really who we think he is? Can all angels be trusted and are some demons good? It’s a mixed up dimension of space and time when you’re dealing with supernatural entities and human beings—and whose to be trusted?

Beyond the clear symbolism of names such as Mary, Gabriel, David, Ariel and others, what role does the Bassett family play and why does everyone seem to have plans for them?  Why have they been chosen among all other families on earth to do what they do? What have they been selected to do? Will they realize their roles in time to save the planet and the universe as we know it or are they just pawns in a much bigger scheme?

This epic tale takes places from Liverpool to London, to the Scottish and Welsh highlands and over to Dublin—but the end-game results will either be salvation or total destruction of the entire world—and the outcome is still not certain. Is God’s human experiment over—or will we continue for another millennium?  To find out, you must stop what you’re doing right now and read the pages of this exciting story! Say your prayers and hope someone’s listening!

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“Then destroy Hell!” Gabriel countered loudly. Both had now squared up to each other.

“Destroy Hell?” shouted Michael, over Gabriel’s repeated yeses, “and lose hundreds of angels in the process. What about the millions of demons roaming the planet? They’ll regroup and we won’t have the troops to counter them.”

“Michael,” said Gabriel calmly. He didn’t want them ending up brawling and destroying half the city in the process. “This is wrong. If we try to forcefully remove evil from this planet we risk destroying it. Humanity is capable of ejecting evil from this world. Give them the time to do so. Let the experiment run its course,” he reasoned.

“Evil was never meant to be part of this experiment!”

“We don’t know that. God left no instruction, nothing. For all we know evil is the very object humanity must overcome to pass this experiment.” Gabriel sat back down again. He knew the other Archangels agreed with him, at least to some extent, but would not anger Michael.

“The time is now,” finished Michael once more. The other archangels listened to Michael and Gabriel now descend into an ear bashing row. The world’s inhabitants, human, animal and supernatural alike had no idea that at this very moment, their fate was being determined in a hotel suite in London.

 

BIO

Daniel Rafferty currently lives in Belfast, Northern Ireland. He is actively engaged in writing the epic Counterpoint Trilogy Series and is also working on 665183_583779674987556_897964118_odifferent pieces of writing outside this genre. This includes the upcoming sci-fi thriller Destiny: Illusions. Always intrigued with epic dramas and grand questions, which have been asked throughout the history of civilisation, he aims to incorporate dramatic stories around these questions. This provides a large tapestry in which his writing is sewn.

 

 

 

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Knight of Wands by S.M. Blooding [BookBlitz + Giveaway]

 

 

by SM Blooding

Book 2 of the
Devices of War Trilogy

Genre: New Adult Fantasy Steampunk Adventure

Publisher: Blooding Books

Book Description: (Can be read as stand-alone)

Return to a world of mind blowing visuals, heart stopping action, and ships that sail the skies.

Nix, Queen of Wands, has exactly what she wants—Synn El’Asim, the greatest Mark the world has ever seen. Even though she bound his soul to hers, he is not easily controlled. If she wants him, she must do the one thing that pains her most. Let him go, and give him what he desires. Peace.

Armed with a treaty bearing Nix’s seal, Synn sets off to bridge the gap between the world’s two reigning tyrants—the Hands of Tarot and the Great Families. He struggles to trust Nix as he fights for control of his soul. He’s going to need every ounce of restraint when dealing with his mother, leader of the Great Families. She will not give up her power without a fight. Nix will honor her treaty only if Synn agrees to become her knight. His mother refuses to sign the peace agreement if he falls into the queen’s control.

Frustrated, Synn does the one thing neither woman saw coming. He invites all the tribes, currently voiceless in the war between these two ruling tyrants, to partake in the treaty negotiations. All they have to do is prove their worth in his Peace Games. As Synn’s influence and subsequent power grows, a new fight begins.

Who will control Synn’s League of Cities? Can he protect more people as a leader of the Great Families, or as the Knight of Wands?

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Fall of Sky CityFall of Sky City Book 1 :
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Praise for Fall of Sky City

Wow! What did I just read?? The story was deliciously complex, full of fear, wonder, magic, gadgets, gizmos, one heck of a psycho Queen and wonderful friends. Every character brought something to the story, each with a unique personality that came to life through the book, each with their own fears to overcome. Victoria Limbert

I love the world Blooding has created. She managed to create it in a way that it combines specs of all my favorite movies, books, etc. It’s a mixture of young adult fantasy, steam punk, dystopia, sci-fi, paranormal and even some tiny bit of romance. Fall of Sky City is a diverse book that is intense, a little bit violent, and a whole lot of awesome! I look forward to reading the next book of the series! Unputdownable Books

SM Blooding is a new author to me, but this is definitely not the last book I’ll read by her. Synn El’Asim is a powerful character–the reader sees him grow from a young man who has not yet come into his power to a strong man who is courageous enough to fight for what he believes in–his family and his people. The world building Ms. Blooding does is nothing short of remarkable. A world composed of flying ships, ice worlds, danger, and intrigue. My World of Dreams

This book is action-packed and intense. You feel like you’re part of the drama. This story is intense. The action is perfectly paced. I had trouble putting the book down. I really felt for Synn from the very beginning. He goes through so much. As soon as he gets his mark, he is plunged into one situation after another. Queen Nix, who is horrifying by the way, pushes Synn to new levels, in more and more diabolical ways. With the help of friends and family, Synn becomes a strong leader. Waiting on Sunday to Drown

I’m amazed of the world Blooding has created and built. It has Sky, Land, and Water Cities. These cities each has its own technologies, language, and a whole different way of life. These worlds remind me a lot of Avatar the Last Airbender and Star Wars, which I both loved wholeheartedly. Bahrain Newspaper Article Review!

 

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Pizza with Synn, Dyna & Nix

One of the things I enjoy doing is taking my characters to dinner. When they’re in their natural environment, they can get a bit too serious. The last few times we’ve attempted to interview Nix, she got on a pretty high horse, and it was difficult to get anything out of her. So, invited them all into my living room and bought pizza. I deleted the parts where I had to tell Nix and Dyna what a pizza even was, how to use a fork—because we use those in my house—and what the TV was. It took us about thirty minutes to get past all that.

Frankie: Okay, so if you could describe The Knight of Wands in twenty words or less, how would you do it?

Dyna: One man’s interesting attempt to outsmart a deviously cunning woman.

Synn: Only one? I had to try to outwit you, my mother and Nix.

Dyna: Are you whining?

Synn: *chuckles* No.

Frankie: What about you, Synn? How would you describe it?

Synn: Huh. Well, we’re on our way through book three now, so I’d probably call it, “How did one naïve boy think he could change the world without paying a price?”

Frankie: *cringes* Yeah. Ouch. There’s that. Nix, your turn.

Nix: *pulls at the cheese* I still don’t understand why we would eat this.

Frankie: Are you going to participate in this interview?

Nix: Possibly.

Frankie: *sighing eye roll* Okay, how about you tell us how you got started as a villain.

Nix: It didn’t happen overnight, my dear. I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to be evil.

Synn: But you do know you’re not a good person, right?

Dyna: Synn, she’s not horrible, either.

Synn: She’s a murderer. A mass murderer.

Dyna: She wasn’t always this way.

Nix: No. Once upon a time, I was someone worth keeping.

Synn: *snorts* You.

Nix: I had a husband I loved, a son, a family.

Frankie: What happened?

Nix: *takes in a deep breath* Is this sauce supposed to taste this way?

Frankie: Yes, it is. Okay, fine. What’s it like to be a villain?

Nix: Freeing. *sits back on the sofa, pushing the paper plate away* I have no one to tell me no. No responsibilities. I do what I want when I want to. I don’t know why Synn works so hard to be good. All he’s going to do is lose all those he loves.

*the room goes silent*

Frankie: What you’re trying to tell me is that you lost everything once? You know what that’s like? What Synn’s going through?

Nix: Not to the extent Synn has, but, yes. Dyna, what is it like to be a spy?

Dyna: You were one of our best. Why don’t you answer that question?

Frankie: You know, the bickering’s cute and all, but let’s stick to answering the questions.

Dyna: I am the person in charge of intelligence gathering. I find it very challenging.

Synn: That was a very boring way of saying she’s very busy learning everything she can about anyone in power.

Frankie: *grins* What are your thoughts on intelligence gathering, Synn? You’ve had Joshua looking into bettering your technology in that area.

Synn: I’ve been having him working on communications equipment. There’s a vast difference there.

Nix: You’re going to sit there and tell us that you don’t listen to your radios to see what we’re doing?

Dyna: We’re his allies now, sister.

Synn: We have a long way to go before we’re allies. Frankie, thank you for the pizza, but I have things I need to get to.

Well, that was short and sweet. We made it through . . . three questions? I sometimes wonder how I get anything done as a writer. I can’t pin these guys down for anything. Thank you for stopping by and I hope you enjoyed the interview.

 

 

 

BIO

SM “Frankie” Blooding lives in Colorado with her pet rock, Rockie, and Jack the Bird. Jack has refused to let her to take up the piano again, but is warming to the guitar. It might help that Frankie has learned more than two strings. She’s added a few more Arabic words to her vocabulary, but don’t invite her into conversation yet—unless, of course, you’re willing to have a very . . . slow . . . conversation.

She’s dated vampires, werewolves, sorcerers, weapons smugglers and US Government assassins. Yes. She has stories.

 

 

 

 

She’s also an investigator with a local paranormal investigation group, Colorado Paranormal Rescue!

Find out more about her at:

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When Dreams Wake by J.E. & M. Keep [BookBlitz + Giveaway]

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When Dreamers Wake

Title: When Dreamers Wake

Author: J.E. and M. Keep

Genre: Post-Apocalyptic SciFi

BLURB

The Old Gods have risen and moved on, leaving Earth in ruins.

Leon liked that just fine.

He got along better after the collapse of society, and has his own vision for how things should be run: with him in charge of his own fate, with many lovers beneath him.

Yet when he has a run-in with a beautiful and mysterious woman, his life will never be the same.

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With a cheerful smile that was part teasing, part confident and cocky, but all loving and comforting, he brought a hand up to her face, stroked his thumb over her cheek, and said, “I’ll never turn down the opportunity to spend some time with you. You’ll always have a place in my heart, Tia. A prime, ladylike spot.”

With another of his hearty, full squeezes, he lifted her up off the floor a good couple inches, bending down and tilting his head so his dark lips met hers.

She kissed him back, her lips moving against his so tenderly, her hands wrapping around his neck as she helped him hold her body aloft. When finally they parted, she jerked her head back toward the stairs, her brown eyes full of promise.

She didn’t share the cabin with any others for the most part, except for in the winter when their numbers swelled, and there hadn’t been a sound since he arrived.

They didn’t walk to those stairs, however. He ran a hand down her spine to her ass, cupping that swell of flesh, and hefted her with a display of strength that made her look easier for him to carry than the satchel he brought in.

With her in his arm, he stroked his other hand over her leg, then along her arm, and back, placing a kiss on her lips. “I am going to savour this night,” he said, his voice almost a growl as his fingers grazed her breast. “And I’m going to suck these sore.”

She bit her lower lip, her nose nuzzling along his thick neck, her breath hitting against his collarbone. He could hear it quicken at his threat, and her hands clasped him more desperately. She’d always loved the things he could do to her, even before they got involved.

Even after they stopped, she found it hard to say no to him.

“Bedroom,” she growled, biting his ear and tugging it.

BIO

 

 

J.E. & M. Keep love to combine fantasy, scifi, horror, romance and mystery into exciting and titillating novels.

They are long term, loving partners in a very happy relationship and because of this, they love to torture their characters. Dark romance touches all of their stories in one way or another, from elicit trysts to forbidden love.

Some of their work contains dubious consent and erotic pain, so it’s not for the faint of heart. Their stories are often called twisted and arousing — at the same time.

All work is 18+, trigger warnings available on the second page of every book. If you want to hear about new releases, sign up for the newsletter!

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GIVEAWAY

Tour-wide giveaway for a gift basket with a Call of C’thulhu RPG Guide Book, “The Dreamers Awake” tote bag, a Strange Aeon’s Magazine (#11) and a Paracord Bracelet.

 

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BookBlitz + Giveaway: The Bionincs Series by Alicia Michaels

 

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The Bionics CoverTitle:  The Bionics

Series:  The Bionics Series, Book 1

Author:  Alicia Michaels

Published:  September 13th, 2013 by Crimson Tree Publishing

Word Count:  21,000

Genre:  YA Mature Dystopian Romance

Content Warning:  Coarse language and mild sexual innuendo

Recommended Age:  16+

 

Blurb:  All I ever wanted was to be a normal girl. I had dreams of joining the ranks of the Military Police and making my family proud. But the nuclear war that laid waste to our country destroyed any hope I had of being normal ever again. They took everything away from me, including my humanity. I am now half-human, half-machine, part of the never-ending freak show that is the Restoration Project.

They hate what they created and they fear us for being powerful.

And so they hunt us, destroying our lives so that they can bury what they built. What they don’t know is this: there is a Resistance out there and The Bionics aren’t going down without a fight.

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Titanium CoverTitle:  Titanium

Series:  The Bionics Series, Book 2

Author:  Alicia Michaels

Published:  September 13th, 2013 by Crimson Tree Publishing

Word Count:  30,000

Genre:  YA Mature Dystopian Romance

Content Warning:  Coarse language and mild sexual innuendo

Recommended Age:  16+

 

Blurb: We stand on the brink of a double rescue mission, a plan so foolhardy that even our bravest men are quaking inside with fear. Storm the capitol, free the prisoners, don’t get killed. It seems like a suicide mission, but not a single one of us has anything to lose.

In my past life, I was a scoundrel; a drug peddling street thug who cared nothing for anyone because I had no one to care for me. The nuclear blasts of 4006 reminded me of the value of life, and a girl with the saddest eyes I’ve ever gazed into gave me someone to care for. Now, as we embark on our most dangerous enterprise, I can only hope that we make it out alive and that those we have lost can be recovered.

Foolishness … fear … hope … These are the elements that threw our revolution into motion. As the momentum of the Resistance continues to build, we can only pray that hope continues grow larger than our fear.

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Excerpt

From ‘The Bionics’

“I wish that I had died that day,” I admit, unable to look away from his gaze no matter how much my mind tells me that I need to. “I wish that all the time.”

He inches closer to me on the bed. “Is it really so bad? Professor Hinkley gave you and the others a second chance at life. It’s not fair that the government has decided you and others like you pose a threat.”

 

I think about a news broadcast I saw a couple of weeks ago, showing a surveillance video of a man with an arm identical to mine smashing in the window of someone’s car and beating them to a bloody pulp for no reason, before pulling a limp body from the driver’s seat and driving off in the stolen vehicle. Of course the thief was found and immediately executed; no trail, no jury, no questions asked.

“Some of us are dangerous,” I answer, and of course, it’s the truth.

“Some people are dangerous,” he insists. “Bionics are still people….just modified.”

“Right now your blood pressure is 124/90, your heart rate is an elevated 70 beats per minute; not bad, but still high for a healthy male that I assume is athletic. You have a tattoo on your left arm of an eagle, and a fractured rib.”

“That is amazing.”

 

I shrug. “It’s my eye. It is capable of reading a person’s body heat signature as well as their vital statistics. It allows me to pull away individual layers, such as clothing, skin, and muscle to expose what’s underneath. It’s how I knew about the rib.”

I reach out with my bionic arm and poke the rib for emphasis, raising my eyebrows as he winces in pain. “Still think I’m human?”

Gage reaches for my arm—my robotic arm—and grabs it by the hand. I can’t feel it, or his hand circling the wrist above it. His eyebrows wrinkle as he turns my arm over, inside facing up. He traces the inside of my arm, his fingers sliding over the cool metal and, for the first time since I woke up with that hunk of machinery on the other end of my elbow, I am wishing that I could feel the damn thing.

“Cold,” he murmurs as he draws circles on the metal. His fingers stop on the inside of my elbow, on the line where the titanium ends and I begin. I hear his breath catch in his throat and another noisy swallow as the pad of his index finger slides over my skin. I gasp as he trails it up the inside of my arm, flesh now on flesh. The human contact that I’ve denied myself for years has left me sensitive to every touch, and I feel as if I’m being caressed for the first time.

Of course Dax has held my hand from time to time; he’s even held me against him some nights when the nightmares get particularly bad until I fall back asleep. But he’s never touched me like this, and while I’m no virgin I certainly feel like one right now. A thousand emotions are exploding in me at one time and just as many sensations are following the path his finger traces up to my shoulder, pausing at the strap of my tank top.

 

“Warm,” he says with a smile. “Only about….what…ten percent of you is metal. When I got past your elbow, I felt skin, blood flowing through veins, muscle, and…goose bumps?”

He says that last bit with a smile, forcing me to look away in embarrassment. He holds his arm out toward me, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt and revealing a tanned arm sprinkled with light blond hair, which is standing on end. He leaves the sleeve above his elbow and holds his arm out in front of me.

“See?” he says gently, his head way too close to mine, his breath brushing my cheek. “I have them too.”

 

I reach out with my human hand and touch his arm. His opposite hand comes up to cover mine.

“If anything,” he says, his fingers gripping mine tightly, “the additions to your body give you character. They tell a story about where you’ve been.”

 

He pauses, leaning in so close that locks of his hair brush my forehead. “Where have you been, Blythe?”

I know he’s referring to the screams and my nightmare. I wonder if I can put him off like I do the others, but quickly realize by the glint in his eyes that he’s not letting me off that easy. I clear my throat and open my mouth, but no sound comes out. Gage leans forward and presses his lips to mine, taking advantage of my open mouth to nibble on my lower lip.

 

With a soft sigh, he closes the distance between us and cups my face in his hands, taking my breath away with the simple act of molding his mouth to mine. My hands resting on his thick thighs, I come up on my knees on the bed, leaning into him, trembling both inwardly and outwardly, unsure of what I’m doing or why I’m doing it, but know that I can’t stop. Kissing Gage feels like walking down the street used to be before the government labeled Bionics as dangerous. It feels like freedom.

“Hey Blythe, I couldn’t sleep and I was thinking…”

Dax’s voice trails off as the door to the bathroom we share knocks against the wall, pushed open by my bone-headed best friend who never knocks because he knows I’m never doing anything he can’t see me doing.

 

Except this time.

 

This time, guilt propels me away from Gage and back against the headboard, my lowered eyelids shielding me from Dax’s dark glare.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding anything but. “Didn’t realize you’d have a visitor at three o’clock in the goddamn morning.”

 Part of me wants to rip Dax a new asshole for being such a jerk. What right does he have being mad at me when I know he’s screwed Olivia on several occasions, and who knows what other groupies he’s got salivating over him in both Mosley and Hexley Halls? Another part of me feels like I just got caught doing something unforgiveable, although I’m not sure if it was that I kissed someone, or if it’s just the fact that the someone I kissed happens to be Gage.

 

Author Bio

Ever since she first read books like Chronicles of Narnia or Goosebumps, Alicia has been a lover of mind-bending fiction. Alicia MichaelsWherever imagination takes her, she is more than happy to call that place her home. The mother of two and wife to an Army sergeant loves chocolate, coffee, and of course good books. When not writing, you can usually find her with her nose in a book, shopping for shoes and fabulous jewelry, or spending time with her loving family.

 

Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Website | Blog

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Giveaway!

Alicia is giving away a digital copy of The Bionics (Book One) and Titanium (Book Two), a Bionics bookmark, Readers choice of any other Clean Teen Publishing eBook and a $15 Amazon gift card (INT)

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BookBlitz+Giveaway: Brink of Distinction Series by Jon Messenger

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Burden of SisyphusTitle:  Burden of Sisyphus

Series:  Brink of Distinction Trilogy, Book 1

Author:  Jon Messenger

Published:  September 6th, 2013

Publisher:  Crimson Tree Publishing

Word Count:  approx. 80,000

Genre:  Science Fiction

Content Warning: Language and Violence

Recommended Age:  16+

Blurb

Between the alien Alliance and the Terran Empire, a neutral zone stretches between the galaxies, a demilitarized zone that was established 150 years previous, following the Great War. The peace accord granted a semblance of peace to the universe. The peace, however, is a facade, and it is the responsibility of Michael Vance and his covert operations team to maintain that illusion.

Recently, the Alliance lost contact with one of their outposts near the neutral zone. Surveillance scans show an abandoned city and no signs of life. The Alliance does what it always does: send in the best. But an unexpected betrayal leaves Vance and his team stranded. Worse, the city that was supposed to be dead is quite alive. And the monsters that now roam its streets are slaughtering his team, one at a time.

Amazon | GoodReads

Fall of Icarus

Title:  Fall of Icarus

Series:  Brink of Distinction Trilogy, Book 2

Author:  Jon Messenger

Published:  September 6th, 2013

Publisher:  Crimson Tree Publishing

Word Count:  approx. 125,000

Genre:  Science Fiction

Content Warning: Language and Violence

Recommended Age:  16+

Synopsis:  The Terran Empire has broken the Taisa Accord and invaded Alliance space in this exciting second novel in the Brink of Distinction series. Survivors of the Empire’s first assault, Yen Xiao and Adam Decker swore vengeance against the Terrans. Joining forces with the enigmatic Keryn Riddell, the three warriors must find a way to destroy the Terran fleet. But the Terrans have a secret weapon: a biological agent sold to them by an renegade smuggler. Now it’s a race against the clock to capture the smuggler before the Terrans decimate the Alliance homeworlds.
When everything they do proves to be not enough to stop the Empire’s violent invasion, the Alliance takes the fight directly to the Empire by invading Earth! But Earth may not be the biggest threat to the safety of the Alliance. The biggest danger may be one of their own.

 Amazon | GoodReads

Purge of PrometheusTitle: Purge of Prometheus

Series:  Brink of Distinction Trilogy, Book 3

Author:  Jon Messenger

Published:  September 6th, 2013

Publisher:  Crimson Tree Publishing

Word Count:  approx. 123,000

Genre:  Science Fiction

Content Warning: Language and Violence

Recommended Age:  16+

Synopsis:  The final confrontation between the Alien Alliance and the Terran Empire begins in this exciting conclusion to the Brink of Distinction trilogy.

One-by-one, the brilliant suns of Alliance space are disappearing, left cold and lifeless after exposure to the Terran biological epidemic. Trapped on one of the sunless worlds, Keryn Riddell, the ruthless Wyndgaart warrior, fights against both a frozen landscape and her Terran captors.

As Keryn fights for her life, the psychic Yen Xiao leads the Alliance fleet in pursuit of the Terran Destroyers threatening the Alliance homeworlds. Yearning for leadership of the fleet, Yen begins to wonder just how far he’ll go for the power he craves.

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Excerpt from Burden of Sisyphus

Private Hicks’ body screamed in protest as he tried to stand.  His muscles ached and his lungs burned in the planet’s thin, dust-filled air.  Under his dark armor sweat soaked through his uniform.  Raising his head, he saw the looming plateau.  Nuzzled within the wedge of the plateau’s façade there was the Terran’s dark, stone, defensive wall.  Relief flooded through him.  Being able to see the bristling antiaircraft weapon platforms mounted atop the wall meant his destination was finally within reach.

Scrambling to his feet, despite resistant muscles, he ran the rest of the way to the wall.  He didn’t dare hope to make it that far without being spotted by his enemies but the reprieve gave him time to close the final twenty meters to the outpost.  Legs cramping, he limped the rest of the way to the wall.  Ignoring the large, arched vehicle entrance, whose heavy doors led straight to the courtyard between the wall and the building set into the plateau, he staggered to the reinforced personnel entrance to one side.  Shuffling past a set of thick windows he watched Terran soldiers within the wall move toward the door.

Sliding in the red sand he stopped in front of the door and pounded it with his open hand.  “Open the door!” he yelled, his voice raspy and dry.

When nothing happened he banged again, glancing over his shoulder in fear and frustration.

“Open the damn door!” he screamed, as much as his raw throat allowed, hitting the door repeatedly.

Finally, hesitantly, it opened.

A blast of cool air struck him as he was pulled into the comforting darkness.  The room was cast in deep shadows and he was momentarily blinded in the dim lighting.  He shivered as someone helped him to the far side of the narrow room, the cool air a stark contrast to the scorching heat outside.  Sliding down against the wall, he exhaled a loud, raspy breath.

“Hicks,” the closest soldier said.

His head swam with exhaustion.

“What happened out there?”

He peered through the gloom, barely able to make out the man’s rank and name.  “Alliance mercenaries.  They hit us while we were on patrol.”

A third soldier pushed past the others and bent over Hicks, who saw the officer epaulettes on his shoulder.  “Where’s the rest of your team, Private?”

He shook his head.  “They’re all dead, Sir.”

“All of them?” the lieutenant asked in disbelief.  “How did one group of Alliance mercenaries take out an entire patrol?”

A soft sound echoed through the room before Hicks could reply.  The thumping reverberated softly as he clambered to his feet.  Slowly, the others heard it and the room fell to hushed silence.  It was a series of soft thumps as if something struck the compound’s outer wall repeatedly.

“What the hell is that noise?” Lieutenant Hill asked, looking toward the thick, outer walls.

The sound continued unabated.

“Sir, I’ve got a visual,” a private said, watching from the window.

The lieutenant rushed to the window, pulling free the binoculars on his hip.  In the distance, a single massive form stood at the crest of the hill.  Thick, dark fur covered its body which ended in an elongated snout.  Sharp horns jutted from its temples, curving wickedly forward.

Lowering his binoculars, the lieutenant turned toward the rest of the soldiers.  “It looks like the Alliance found our outpost!  Let’s move, people!”  As he walked back to the middle of the room the soldiers exploded into action.

“On your feet, soldiers!” Lieutenant Hill yelled over the din of muttered conversation.  “Grab some ammo and find a wall to stand behind.”  Turning back toward the sturdy window he glared across the red field.  “If they want to bring their fight here, they won’t even know what hit them.”

“How true,” Hicks rasped, as a barbed tail erupted from under the back of his shirt.  Lashing out, the tail struck the base of Lieutenant Hill’s neck and erupted from his throat, nearly decapitating the officer.

Hicks extended his left hand, the fingers elongated into razor-sharp points, which he drove into a nearby soldier’s abdomen.  The soldier stared in disbelief, as the skin on Hicks’ face melted like wax, first running down toward his chin before being absorbed into his oily-black skin.  The face disappeared, leaving behind a featureless black oval.  Slowly, the rest of his skin melted away until all that remained was thick, black hide.

The creature that impersonated Hicks swished its spiked tail back and forth and turned toward the three remaining soldiers in the room.  Eyes wide with fright, one swung his rifle toward the creature and squeezed the trigger.

The window exploded inward as the first round tore through the thick glass and struck the soldier’s temple.  His scalp peeled away on the far side of his head as the high-velocity round passed through and struck the far wall, spraying the back of the room with blood.

Author Bio

Jon MessengerJon Messenger (Born 1979 in London, England) serves as an United States Army Major in the Medical Service Corps.  Since graduating from the University of Southern California in 2002, writing Science Fiction has remained his passion, a passion that has continued through two deployments to Iraq and a humanitarian relief mission to Haiti.

Jon wrote the “Brink of Distinction” trilogy, of which “Burden of Sisyphus” is the first book, while serving a 16-month deployment in Baghdad, Iraq. The trilogy was accepted for publication through Crimson Tree Publishing, an adult imprint of Clean Teen Publishing. Jon Messenger’s young adult novel: Wind Warrior was published in June 2013 through Clean Teen Publishing and has hit bestseller status and has been nominated for a Readers Choice Award.

 

Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Website

 

 

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Crimson Tree Publishing Links

(An adult division of Clean Teen Publishing)

Website  | Facebook   | Twitter

Giveaway!

International tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:

Digital copy of all three books in the Brink of Distinction Trilogy, a digital copy of Wind Warrior, Wind Warrior bookmark and Brink of Distinction bookmark.

 

 

 

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Review: Legacy of Daddy by Angus H. Day

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Author: Angus H Day

Book Title: Legacy of Daddy (Next You Universe Series)

Publication Date Mar 26 2013

Publisher: GMTA Publishing (Imprint: Mythos Press)

Genre: Science Fiction

Erotic Content: Some books have minor sexual content: PG-13 for the sexual content otherwise PG-13

 

 

 

 

 

 

BLURB

What happens when a Graduate student competes for a PhD in a dystopian society by experimenting with dangerous alien technology? Does humankind need technological help to leave Earth? These and other questions are awkwardly dealt with in The Legacy of Daddy.

 

 

Review

The Legacy of Daddy is strong for YA, with a crazy -yet mature appeal, that makes it really easy to let suspension of disbelief kick start us right into the book. The characters, if a bit underdeveloped, are remarkable because they are bizarre yet likeable, and the idea of the alien companion traverses several posibilities, going from a kind of Brandon Sanderson’s Legion approach to one rather like John Zakour’s Zachary Nixon Johnson and his HARV sidekick. The pace is fast but not hectic and the premise, thou simple, is very well presented. In short, the book is fun to read, easy on the mind and provides a kind of smart entertainment that leaves you wishing for more. The one big but? it is too short! I want more!.

Underdevelopment of characters is also not an issue if you consider the book a first person narrative, as it is intended, the focus is on the main character, and everyone else is there just for plot advancement (save, one should note, Robert) Still, if you let go of your expectations, and submerge fully into the ride, you are in for a fun afternoon (the book being so short and easy to read, one gives it an avergae 5 hours shelf life, that is, you’ll finish it in around that time)

Excerpt

Chapter 3: The proper way to talk to oneself.

 

When I was back in my quarters I responded to the…being.

 

“We need to have some ground rules. During my relationships, you will find something else to do and give me some privacy. If you continue to be a dickhead I will eventually resort to self-harm to rid myself of your presence. Do you understand?”

 

“Oh I understand what you want. I’ll see about accommodating you when it suits us. Don’t forget that I can go mental also and you might be impressed by the number of mental ailments to which my species were susceptible. We might even create some new ailment in your species with a little manipulation. In your slang the point is you’re not the boss of me.”

 

“What do you call yourself, since I’ve never asked?”

 

“I don’t have a name you would understand, and I don’t care to spend the effort teaching you. However I think we should be called Dr. Abrams. I like that name because it’s simple and will remind you that something has changed forever in your life.”

 

“Being called by my middle name is going to do all that?”

 

“I believe it will be enough to behavior-modify you right now.” I opened my eyes and realized I was on my back, on the floor. “What did you do?”

 

“I did a little neural programming to insure you do something I like, not to worry. Shall we get ready for sleep Dr. Abrams?”

 

“I think that is an excellent idea.”

 

When I awoke in the morning I barely remembered arguing with the entity and not what it was about. Hopefully I will be able to recognize when it’s attempting to control me. I cleaned up, dressed and ate breakfast without speaking to a soul. When I was about to enter the lab a tech greeted me, “Good morning Doctor Focsile, how did you sleep?” “Please call me Dr. Abrams; I don’t much care for my last name.” What the hell just came out of my mouth? The tech looked at me like she’d love to pour acid into my cereal and I empathized. I can hear it now, “That guy is a total asshole.” What did I tell Etresca to call me? God, that’s going to eat at me all day now, “Actually, please call me Robert, there is no need to be so formal. I slept fine and you?” Oh my God, I hope that was the save I thought it was. She loosened up and smiled at me again. “I slept fine, thank you for asking?” As she walked away I hoped that my relief of tension had gone unnoticed. I abandoned my gawking perch by the door and moved to my lab bench. I spent the remainder of the day programming nanites to regulate hormones for neural activity. I lost about three hours of work time that I couldn’t remember what I was doing. A new stasis jar with a new batch of reclamators was in front of me on the bench and I had no idea how they had gotten there. “Did you do that?” The asshole did not answer. Since I was so tunneled into my work these days I had set a pad alarm for the end of shift. When it went off I noticed that I had an email from security. It was from Etresca, which gave me a warm feeling inside. Tomorrow can we meet at the air reclamation hydroponics atrium? I will make us a picnic and can you bring desert. Say 1830? Reply: Absolutely. You like chocolate right? That will do. See you then. I remembered to store the nanites I’d been working on in a stasis jar and I closed down for the night. I scooped up my pad and headed for the canteen lounge with a spring in my step. Etresca met me there and we had a lovely evening which ended with a kiss. The next morning I arrived at the lab to find security, including Etresca had taped off the area. There was a shrinking puddle of blood on the floor of the doorway and several forensic types were wandering around the benches looking but not touching, smart guys. “Officers, what has happened here and may I be of assistance?” Etresca’s supervisor I assume answered, “One of your lab techs died here last night and we don’t know yet if it was an accident, suicide or murder. Can you help our forensic guys identify some things, Dr. Focsile?” “Yes, of course and please call me Dr. Abrams I don’t really like my last name.” That little bullshit that is emanating from my mouth is going to get me a reputation. I imagine there will be some restroom wall tags addressing it unless I’m overinflating my importance in people’s lives. I wandered over to the first tech and asked if he had any questions. The tech seemed puzzled by a tray of half eaten food that had been left on the bench. “Do your people normally eat in this lab? I thought this was a quarantine risk lab.”