Saturday, November 15, 2014

Entertaining Angels Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Entertaining Angels 
Monica Millard
Publication date: November 11th 2014
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult


As a senior in high school, Samantha Heman’s too busy trying to avoid getting stomped by a moose at the bus stop and keeping her grades up until graduation to put much thought into angels or demons.

That all changes on the day she is kidnapped by notorious serial killer, Christopher Hainsely. It’s a day she finds herself confronted by both evil and good, because her savior appears in the form of an avenging angel come to strike the monster down with a single stroke of his flaming sword.

Though she’s trying to get on with her life, she cannot get the angel out of her head. It isn’t the burning wings, fiery eyes or the flaming sword that keeps her searching the internet for proof one way or another of his existence, though.

The feeling of warmth she experienced when she witnessed that sad smile just before he vanished in a wash of golden light, haunts her nights almost as often as the nightmares.

If angels exist, then demons must too, and they’re about to wage a war for her soul.




It’s only seven-thirty, so I putz around on the internet looking for new books that are out and then find myself outside the local bookstore at ten, when they open.
I wander through the bookshelves looking for the books from the list I made. I only find one, because it’s a small bookstore and many of the new releases I like to read don’t make it into the store unless I special order them. Normally I can kill an hour in a bookstore easy, but since I’ve been all efficient like, making lists and such, I find I still have time.
I look around, feeling guilty, before I slip into the spiritual section. I don’t really expect to find anything, but it’s become an obsession. So I scan the titles looking for books about angels. I notice someone has joined me in the aisle, but I don’t look up to acknowledge them. Wasilla is one of those small, large towns and I’ve got a pretty famous face lately. I shouldn’t be in this section, in public. I don’t need to add fuel to the rumors.
“Looking for anything specific?” a deep voice asks.
I shake my head, probably a little too quickly, too long, still not looking at the newcomer. “I’m just browsing,” I say. “Killing time.” I turn, angling away from him as I run a finger over the spines of the books and move further down the shelf.
It isn’t until I turn the corner that my curiosity gets the best of me and I glance over my shoulder covertly. I see a flash of perfect, snow white feathers skim the top edge of the bookcase as the would-be assistance giver, an angel apparently, vanishes from the section. “Wait!” I call out, far too loudly for a bookstore, or any store for that matter.
I chase after him and round the end of the bookcase in time to just catch another quick glimpse of pure whiteness dipping around the wall at the front of the store, towards the exit. I race to catch up and get a bewildered look from the boy behind the counter.
I drop the book I am holding on a display table, so as not to add shoplifting to my long list of reasons to hide my face in public, and burst out of the store. I stumble left, in the direction I saw the wings exit. There is a small maze of twists and turns that I follow, only catching sight of the tips of feathers long enough to know I’m heading in the right direction.
I know I’m being led, but in my limited experience with angels, I’ve come to trust them implicitly. Where ever I end up is probably exactly where I need to be.
I turn another corner and find the hall dead ends. There is no angel here, but at the end is a corkboard with a mess of flyers and advertisements for events and classes. As I approach, a wind kicks up and I spin around to find a door I passed, one leading to the outside, clicking shut.
I consider heading for it, but some sense inside tells me I won’t find anything out there. No angel and not the message it wanted me to find. I turn back to the bulletin board just as a single flyer amidst the chaos of paper settles back against the board, its pull tag ends still fluttering in the breeze that lifted it.
I step closer and see that it is an announcement for a six-week self-defense course that has a new class starting in two weeks. I pluck off one of the tags with the telephone number, dates and website printed in tiny script and shove it in my pocket.


Monica Millard was born and raised in Alaska. She doesn’t own a dog sled team, but has worked in a place where there are buildings with caged exterior doors to keep employees from being eaten by polar bears.

Monica’s favorite quote is, “People do not see the world as it is, they see it as they are.” She is not sure who said it but it is a quote that has always stuck with her. She loves to read because it allows her to see the world through someone else’s perspective and experience something she would otherwise never be able to. Sharing that same experience with others through her own writing is a possibility that makes her excited to get out of bed in the morning.

She lives in Wasilla, Alaska with all her critters, some four legged and others that stand on two. She writes Science fiction, fantasy, and Paranormal for young adults.

Author links:

Friday, November 14, 2014

Mortal Gods Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Mortal Gods       
Forgotten Pantheon
Book 1
Alex Manea

Genre: Urban Fantasy

ISBN: 9781311240422

Number of pages: 183
Word Count: 45,400

Cover Artist: Ovidiu Stanciu

Book Description:

Heather, a young American girl, is visiting her college roommate, who now lives in Rome. While partying in a local nightclub, she's picked up by a man who looks like he was created in the image of a Greek god. Her initial impression is correct.

He’s one of the last surviving members of the Greek pantheon. After hooking up with him, Heather is forced to join the culmination of a two-millennium-long war between that pantheon and a clandestine sect of monks within the Catholic Church, itself led by perhaps the most infamous figure in Christian history.

Heather and Apollo embark on a world-spanning effort to collect what remains of the gods to engage in the final battle with the monks opposing them. But the fate of the battle is changed by the intervention of a mysterious military organization…

Available at  Amazon   BN   Kobo


Immediately after waking up, the body’s first reaction is to open its eyes, but this wasn't the case with Heather, at least not this time. She knew something bad had happened to her and keeping her eyes closed gave her a fake feeling of safety. When she came back to her senses, she didn't know if she had been out for ten minutes or ten hours or even whether she was in the same place. What woke her was a strange voice whispering close to her. Her last memory was of walking with Apollo to his car. Then he started acting really strange and pushed her.
Was this his plan all along? Or did something else happen?
Her dark thoughts were interrupted by the strange voice. Heather perked her ears. It wasn't Apollo, she concluded. She couldn’t understand what the voice was saying but she knew it wasn't English. Her ears finally caught something vaguely familiar.
In nomine Patris et Filli et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.”
Latin. It's a prayer. Someone is saying a prayer. Maybe I'm in a church.
The drop of water that hit her forehead startled her and brought back the memory of Martin, the sexual predator who’d kidnapped her when she was a child. She’d been rescued before he could molest her, but he’d woken her just like this, with drops of water to her forehead. Since then, having water dropped on her forehead was the thing she hated  and feared most in her life. Once she’d fallen asleep outside and a rain drop had fallen on her. Another time, a college friend had done it as a joke. Each time, Heather woke up screaming and crying, with images of Martin flashing through her mind. Heart racing, Heather quickly opened her eyes, only to see Martin standing over her.
No it can’t be him. Martin is dead. He was executed a long time ago.
She blinked and when she opened her eyes the second time, Martin was gone. Instead, a bald man appeared in front of her. He was chanting the same prayer over and over again. His left hand was right above her head, holding a small bottle, which looked just like the ones flight attendants serve. It was tilted slightly and with every “Amen” spoken, the man let a drop of liquid fall on Heather's forehead. As it hit her skin, the liquid mixed with the blood from the cut on her forehead, oozing over her nose and eyes. Heather wanted to move, to get up and run away, but the fear paralyzed her.
The strange man had no reaction when she opened her eyes. He remained still and kept staring right at her, chanting, like he was hypnotized.
In nomine Patris et Filli et Spiritus Sancti, Amen,” he repeated.
But he stopped before dropping the liquid on her forehead with the ‘Amen’.Then, she heard a muffled sound and blood started dripping from the man’s opened mouth right on Heather's face. He collapsed next to Heather, his head hitting the asphalt near her left ear. In the few seconds of perfect silence that followed, she couldn't hear him breathe. He was dead. Heather started screaming. The loud noise filled up the narrow dark alley. Out of the same darkness, a man’s silhouette appeared in front of her. Before she could realize who it was, he had his hand pressed tightly against her mouth.
“Be quiet,” Apollo said as he looked beyond the dumpster like he was searching for something.
A muzzled sound came from her mouth.
“Are you okay?”
Heather shook her head.
“Listen to me very carefully,” he continued while his hand was still pressed against her mouth. “Your life is in danger. If you want to get out of here alive, you have to do what I say, when I say it. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“I'm going to take my hand off your mouth, but you have to stop screaming.”
She nodded again.
Apollo removed his hand. Heather didn't make a sound. She looked left, at the dead man lying next to her. Just as she did, his hand twitched. Heather screamed again. This time, her own hand covered her mouth.
“Here's what I want you to do,” Apollo said, his green eyes glinting in the faint light.“When I say 'now', run to the car, get into the passenger seat and put the key into the ignition. Stay as low as possible. I'll be right behind you.”
“What if you don't make it?”
“If I don't, neither do you,” he replied with a calm voice.
He peeked over the dumpster.
“You ready?”
He handed her the car keychain and she nodded.
Apollo stepped out from behind the dumpster and started shooting in the direction they came from. Heather got up and started running straight to the car. She got in and, as instructed, placed the key into the ignition. She curled up on the seat and waited. The few seconds she waited seemed like minutes. Heather moved her head between the front seats to see what was happening behind her. Apollo was moving slowly toward the car, his back to it, shooting down the alley. When he emptied his clip, he ran and got into the driver’s seat. He reloaded his gun, dropping the empty clip on the floor of the car, and placed it in his lap.
“Who was—?”

Before Heather finished her sentence, a bullet came out of the darkness, shattering the rear window. The bullet missed Apollo's head by inches and exited the car through the windshield, cracking it. Heather screamed again, this time without bothering to cover her mouth.

About the Author:

Alex Manea is a Romanian journalist and writer, author of the Urban Fantasy novel Mortal Gods, the first book of the Forgotten Pantheon series. Alex is a big mythology buff, especially Greek, this being the source of inspiration behind the novel. Alex is currently working on the second novel of the series.

Fight For Me Cover Reveal, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Fight For Me 
K.A. Last
(The Tate Chronicles #2)
Publication date: January 17th 2015
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult


“How can I fight for you when I don’t know what I’m fighting for?”

When Grace Tate became one of the fallen to protect a vampire, it got her into more trouble than she’d bargained for. She’s angry at Charlotte for hiding the truth, and with Josh living in the city and Seth missing, life is harder than ever.

It’s about to get a lot harder…

Grace doesn’t want to leave Hopetown Valley, but when Josh ignores her calls she decides to go and search for him. She doesn’t expect to run into Seth as well.

When she reaches the city, Grace learns that Charlotte is the most hunted vampire in Wide Island. The city vamps want her blood, and the angels are after her soul. Grace gets caught in the crossfire of a battle she never wanted, but to win one war, she has to fight another.

Torn between the one she gave up everything for, and the one who sacrificed everything for her, Grace has to face Charlotte, and the past, if she wants to fight for her future. But how can she fight for someone who doesn’t want to fight for her?

Every choice Grace makes becomes a battle, and in every battle someone has to die.



Ryan moved into the bedroom, keeping an eye on all of us. He had a stake ready in his hand.

I raised my eyebrows.

“What?” He shrugged. “Figured I might be able to help.”

The girl vamp turned towards Ryan and licked her lips.

I shook my head. “You’d be dust before you took one step.”

She didn’t listen.

I misted and landed in front of Ryan, taking a stake from my belt and driving it into the vamp’s chest as she approached. Dust fell to the carpet in a heap.

Ryan looked over my shoulder from behind me. “That won’t be easy to get out.”

“I did warn her.” I sighed.

The guy vamp stuttered and put his hands up, which only made Archer tighten his hold again.

“You want to end up like her?” he asked. The vamp shook his head. “Then talk. Why are you here? And what happened downstairs?”

I went to the window and grasped the curtain. “We can do this the easy way if you like. But I have more fun with the hard way.” I moved the curtains slightly and muted sunlight filtered through the crack in the middle.

“No, please. I’ll tell you,” the vamp said.

Archer pulled him away from the wall and threw him onto the bed. “Talk.”

“We’re just lookouts. Waiting to see if they come back.”

“Who?” I asked, twirling my stake between my fingers.

“You probably don’t know them,” the vamp said.

“You’d be surprised what I know.” I glared at him. “Do I need to convince you some more?” I ran the point of the stake down his cheek.

“Charlotte. Her name is Charlotte. She has another guy with her I’ve never met before.”

“And why are you watching them?” Archer clenched his fists at his sides.

Good work at being intimidating, I teased him.

You’re the one who ran a stake down his face.

“I don’t know about the guy, but Lucas wants Charlotte,” the vamp said. “Something about her blood.”

“Lucas?” Archer glanced at me over his shoulder.

“Charlotte’s creator,” I said.

Charlotte had told me Lucas was her creator, and he’d seduced her before he turned her. It was all lies. She’d asked him to turn her, but I didn’t understand why.

“Great, here we go again.” Ryan ran a hand over his face and sighed.

Charlotte had been an angel, and why she wanted to become a vampire was beyond my comprehension. I understood the fallen and the many reasons why an angel would choose to fall. But to become a monster … I couldn’t trust that what she’d shown me in the clearing after Seth had been taken was the truth. When it came to Charlotte, I had no idea what the truth was, or if her name and the word should be put into a sentence together.

“Didn’t Lucas send that trio of vamps after Charlotte? Wasn’t that why she came to you in the first place?” Ryan asked.

“I don’t know her true intentions,” I said. “There are a lot of things she held back.”

“That’s because you never gave her a chance to explain.”

“Explain what?” Archer asked. “That she’d lied to us? Whose side are you on, Ryan?”

“I’m guessing you want to be on her side,” the vamp said, pointing to me.

“All I’m saying … we need to focus on the real enemy.” Ryan ignored the vamp, frowning. “Yes, you’re both angry at Charlotte. I get it. And I’m angry at Josh, too.” I caught a glimpse of him remembering his time in the forest with Josh. “They’re our friends. We need to set things right. Doing what we do … we could die any moment.”

“Now you know how I feel,” the vamp said.

“Shut up!” Archer and I said at the same time.

“You’re not going to die, Ryan. I won’t let you. And you didn’t have to come,” I said. “I wanted you at home, safe. But you insisted.”

“Someone has to look out for you thrill seekers.” Ryan smiled.

Archer laughed and the sound made me smile as well.

“You’re all crazy,” the vamp said.

Archer rocked back and forth on his feet. “You don’t know the half of it.”


K. A. Last was born in Subiaco, Western Australia, and moved to Sydney with her parents and older brother when she was eight. Artistic and creative by nature, she studied Graphic Design and graduated with an Advanced Diploma. After marrying her high school sweetheart, she concentrated on her career before settling into family life. Blessed with a vivid imagination, she began writing to let off creative steam, and fell in love with it. K. A. Last is currently studying her Bachelor of Arts at Charles Sturt University, with a major in English, and minors in Children’s Literature, Art History, and Visual Culture. She resides in a peaceful, leafy suburb north of Sydney with her husband, their two children, a rabbit named Twitch, and a guinea pig called Squeak.

Author Links:
Amazon Author Page:

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Spell of Vanishing Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Spell of Vanishing
Dark Caster Series
Book 3
Anna Abner

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Mild Red Books

Date of Publication:  Nov. 1, 2014

ISBN: 978-0-9914031-3-4

Number of pages: 300

Word Count: 70k

Cover Artist: Jaycee Delorenzo
at Sweet & Spicy Designs

Book Description:

Cole Burkov is a formidable necromancer, but waking from a devastating nightmare spell has left him confused about what’s real and what’s fantasy. Afraid of hurting more of his friends, he casts a vanishing spell on himself, except something goes wrong. He’s not invisible to spirits. He’s invisible to everyone.

Talia Jackson doesn’t want to help Cole cast his vanishing spell. She’s on a mission to collect him for the Dark Caster. But when Cole uses her, against her will, to create the spell she becomes the only human being on earth that can see him.

Together, the unlikely allies will seek out one of the most diabolical casters in the dark cabal—the White Wraith. But when the witch fights back, Cole and Talia discover they may not be strong enough to survive her furious assault.


Chapter One

Rough asphalt dug into Cole Burkov’s knees, but he couldn’t remember why he’d knelt in front of a burned down church in the first place. His memory was in tatters, made up of a pinch of nightmare, a dash of reality, and a whole lot of lost time.
Blood was what brought him back to himself. The old, itchy blood on his hands and the fresh, slimy blood smeared across his left forearm, obscuring the line of scars of varying ages running up his wrist like railroad tracks.
When he cast magic he was always careful to cut shallow slices, but maybe sometime during the night, lost in his muddled memories, he’d cut himself too deep.
He couldn't remember.
Cole sucked in a deep breath, hoping the rush of humid, North Carolina air would stimulate his memory, but it only made him dizzy.
As he gazed up at the charred skeleton of a former religious building, he got the funny feeling he was supposed to be doing something. That he wasn't there on his knees by chance.
A large, ebony crow peered at him from a willow tree at the edge of the parking lot. Crows were bad luck, but one in a churchyard was an omen of death. The bird flapped his wings once and took flight, soaring low over the parking lot before disappearing behind a brick wall.
"Cole!" A familiar ghost appeared in front of him, her face a mask of agony. He had never seen his spirit companion Stephanie so distressed. "I found Dani. She's coming. Can you hear me? She's on her way. Just hang tight and everything will be okay."
Daniela Ferraro. His friend. The witch.
Bits and pieces of the last few days resurfaced. He had strangled Dani in a hospital room and then escaped, hiding out on the streets and in the woods ringing the town. The night before he’d slept sheltered among a copse of pine trees behind Auburn's movie theater. The night before that? Hard to say. He thought the clothes he wore, black scrub bottoms and a yellow smiley face tee, were castoffs from the hospital. Or maybe that was part of the nightmare spell. Maybe he’d never been inside a hospital.
Either way, unable to suffer the guilt a moment longer, he’d come to the Dark Caster's last known gathering place to face him. Or join him. That, too, was vague.
Of course the bastard wasn't there.
But if Dani was on her way it meant one of two things. Either he was still in the nightmare spell and Cole would be forced to kill her again when the evil inside him rose up, or he hadn't killed her and she’d try to stop him from going to war with the Dark Caster.
Neither of those things was going to happen.
“Tell her not to come,” he said. “Tell her not to come anywhere near me.”

About the Author:

Anna Abner has been a writer for nearly her entire life, but some of her day jobs have included teaching, childcare, and real estate. She lives in North Carolina with her family and loves hearing from fans.


The Visitors Blitz

The Visitors 
Katy Newton Naas
Publication date: September 16th 2014
Genres: Romance, Science Fiction, Young Adult


Sometimes soul mates find each other in unlikely places. But is love worth it if it risks your life?

Seventeen-year-old Noah is startled when he awakes one day to find that dangerous, irrational, self-serving, and destructive visitors called “humans” are coming to visit his beautiful, perfect society. All citizens are ordered to have limited contact and share minimal information with these visitors.

Sixteen-year-old Jady is thrilled to accompany her father and his crew on a trip to a recently-discovered planet, Verdant. The United States’ crew is hopeful that they can learn from this ad-vanced yet similar species.

Despite their greatest efforts to fight it, it doesn’t take long for Jady and Noah to fall in love and begin a secret affair. But when their relationship is revealed, danger is created for everyone in-volved…




Katy Newton Naas wears many hats: wife; mother to her young son, Aven, and her four-legged sons, Shakespeare and Poe; teacher of middle school reading and high school English; children’s church teacher; and now – her lifelong dream realized – author. Her debut novel, THE VISITORS, was released September 16, 2014. She graduated from Southern Illinois University-Carbondale with a bachelor’s degree in English Education and a master’s degree in Reading and Language Studies. She resides and teaches in a small town in southern Illinois.

From a young age, Katy was always an avid reader and writer with a big imagination. She spent much of her childhood searching for ghosts and UFOs to no avail – but she hasn’t given up her hunt just yet. Though she continues to grow older, her true literature love is and has always been young adult fiction. She loves creating both futuristic and realistic stories about teenagers, and feels so fortunate to get to work with them every day as a teacher.

Author links:

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Dorianna Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Catherine Stine

Genre: YA paranormal/horror

Publisher: Evernight Teen

Date of Publication: October 24, 2014

Word Count: 91K

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Book Description:

Internet followers, beauty, power. It all sounded good.

Until it transformed into a terrifying reality Dorianna couldn’t stop

Dorianna is a dark twist for the Internet generation on A Picture of Dorian Gray.

When her father is jailed, her mother ships lonely, plain Dorianna to her aunt’s. There, Dorianna yearns to build a new identity, but the popular Lacey bullies her—mostly for getting attention from her ex, Ander.

Ander takes Dorianna to Coney Island where Wilson, a videographer, creates a stunning compilation of her. She dreams of being an online sensation, as she’s never even had a birthday party, and vows she’d give anything to go viral. Wilson claims he’s the Prince of Darkness and warns her the pledge has downsides.

Dorianna thinks he’s joking. She has no idea of how dire the consequences might be.


After mere minutes, Wilson turns to me. His eyes burn with a manic intensity. “Ready for your debut, Dorianna?”

Are you kidding? I’ve only been waiting for it my whole life.

His finger, with its dash of black polish, presses play.

Onscreen, my video likeness emerges with outstretched arms through a glory of sun. I’m me but not me. I’m brighter, bigger, glowing. As I shimmy, the sun settles itself into my palms. And then, in a beach-goddess bestowal of gifts, from my open palms I release a psychedelic explosion of plastic daisies, clouds, sand pails, and seagulls. They float out and up, and morph into arching sunrays. The sunrays dance around my cascading hair, and kiss my sickly white cheeks into candy-cane pink.

“I, I can’t believe this!” I rasp.

“You’re like an Indian deity,” Ander exclaims. “You know, the ones with a zillion hands, offering up the entire earth.”

“You’re the Coney Island Queen,” Wilson says. “Presiding proudly over toxic starfish, mermaids with piercings, and sideshow freaks.”

Ander and I exchange looks of shocked pleasure. No wonder Ander’s friends with this guy. He’s a conjuring genius. I swing back to Wilson’s screen, where his impish conjuring is still unfolding.

This time, I’m framed by playful waves and children’s grinning faces, and then by sandcastles and undulating fish in jewel tones. I’m dancing my heart out to the sound of a spacey lyre. Inside, I’m leaping and dancing, too. “How’d you do it?” I gasp.

“Software called Final Cut Pro . . . plus enchantment. What else do you expect from an agent of the devil?”

“Lay off, Warren. You’ll scare the girl. Really, though, it’s incredible.”

Now the cups of lemonade are soaring around. My onscreen image catches one and offers it to the viewer. As I do, the cup distorts to huge, juicy proportions.

“You like?” Wilson presses pause.

“Wait! Don’t stop!” I cry. My cheeks are on fire. My chest is heaving. I want to suck in more and more. “Oh, my god,” I say breathlessly, and then shiver, remembering the harsh reality. “But . . . it’s not exactly me.”

“It’s a new and improved you,” Ander says reasonably.

Wilson touches my arm again. This time it’s not slithery. It startles me into something deep, unidentifiable. It’s as if he wants me to confess something, but I don’t know what. I gaze at him behind a sudden prick of tears. “If I could look like that, I’d. . .”

Abruptly, horrid memories rush in: the old nicknames, the beady, nauseating stares. When I was fourteen a friend of Len’s said I was too buck-toothed to get a boyfriend, and that if I ever wanted one, I better get braces fast because my wonky front teeth cut a red line into my bottom lip.

And that final humiliation. When my dad was on trial, my classmates didn’t even bother to blurt out nicknames. Instead, they passed me unblinking, the same way Lacey and her gang have done every morning and will continue to do, day after depressing day.

Nothing will be different here. Nothing can.

Through my haze of pain, Ander’s saying, “Strange! You don’t even look like the same girl. If Wilson puts this on YouTube, you could be the next big thing.” Ander’s voice has intense heat for the first time today. “People would follow your every move.”

“They used to call them ‘It Girls’,” Wilson informs us.

It Girl, and not simply It? “Oh, my God. I’d give—” Ander’s hungry stare at the beach rushes into my memory. If I was that beautiful all of the time, he’d gaze at me like that every day . . . be drawn to me.

“Give what?” Wilson’s stare is a wrestler’s grip, tightening around my chest.

“I told you, lay off,” Ander snaps.

“Sure, sure,” Wilson drones, and then, “I have some brownies in the kitchen. They’d go well with the lemonade. Might sweeten your mood. They’re on the counter.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” Ander grouses, but ducks out anyway.

Wilson turns back to me with a charismatic grin. “So, what were you saying?”

I just met this guy. I shouldn’t blurt out personal stuff. He’s scaring me, but I want acceptance so, so badly. It’s so much easier to admit that without Ander in the room. Wilson must sense this. “If I could be really popular,” I start, “I’d give my next six months of checks from my mom to charity.”

“You’d what?” Wilson hisses. “Never mind. I thought you cared.”

I gasp for air. This feels like some creep-show pledge. But I don’t believe in Hell, or the devil, or any superstitious junk. I don’t know what I believe, except that I’m cynical about religion, after that mess with my father’s church, and finding his list. So, it doesn’t matter what I say to Wilson. It’s only a torrent of words. How much sway do words have in the real world, anyway?

Wilson taps impatiently on the keypad. “You want beauty and youth forever? I can give you that. Power over those mean girls, Ava and Lacey. Power over a lot of people. It’s yours for a price. Just say it.”

“How do you know about them? I, I never told you.” Wilson doesn’t answer, just keeps on grinning. His eyes are golden and black and red all at once. Like unearthly spears, piercing me. I’m dizzy. I need fresh air, now. But I want this promise more than anything. Ever. “What’s the price?” I rasp.

Wilson’s stare burns into me. “Can’t say, exactly.” He takes a long breath. “But there always is.”

About the Author:

Catherine Stine’s novels span the range from science fiction to paranormal to contemporary. Her futuristic thriller, Fireseed One won finalist spots in YA and Sci-Fi in the 2013 USA News International Book Awards and an Indie Reader Approved notable seal. Its companion novel, Ruby’s Fire was a finalist in the 2014 Next Generation Indie Awards. Her paranormal YA, Dorianna launches with Evernight Teen in October. She also writes new adult fiction as Kitsy Clare. Her new adult Art of Love series includes Model Position and Private Internship. She loves all things spooky, exotic and edgy, including travel to unusual locations. She also loves hearing from readers.

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The 13th Descent Blitz & Excerpt!

The 13th Descent 
Ky Lehman
(Rosefire Trilogy #1)
Publication date: August 30th 2014
Genres: Paranormal Romance, Young Adult



The revolutionary year following Serenay “Ren” Avalon’s eighteenth birthday could rival Clark Kent’s entire adolescence. After her mother and her grandmother were killed in a car bomb explosion at the heart of their sleepy hillside town where nothing extraordinary usually happens, she discovers that her mother is actually alive and in hiding, her long lost father is a Father, and her best friend, who turns out was once an Archangel, has taken a gargantuan step back in his evolution to live on Earth with her for the past thirteen lifetimes. And besides being the only one in her immediate circle with a serious case of past life dementia, she learns that during her first lifetime, she was married to one of the greatest teachers history has ever known who is now the gorgeous lead singer of a hot new rock band taking the world by storm, and who is keen to meet up with her again in the twenty first century.

As Ren realizes that the powerful family name she bears also brings with it the promise of an unnatural death, she is reminded that it has always brought hope to people on both sides of the veil, human and Tor. As the world draws closer to being completely shrouded by the dark cloaks of her age-old enemies, the Bloodstones, she now, more than ever before, has to draw strength from her origins to protect her family and their ancient truth from this global force responsible for torturing and killing centuries of her ancestors. As she struggles to unearth who she was, who she is, and who she chooses to be, as well as the expectations of her first mortal love and the heavenly love she has always guiltily denied, she has until midnight on the Solstice find a way to bring light to a compromised heart and to a world on the brink of perpetual darkness.

This first book in The Rosefire Trilogy is a reminder of how the choices we make in the throes of love, loss, hope, and adversity are what makes the divine human, and the human divine.




As Mike and I quietly sit on the couch nursing our hot beverages, I decide, for both our sakes, to try and find a restful place somewhere between the peace I know and this peace with no name, at least for a quiet cuppa’s worth.

I’m trying. I really am. But it seems that no matter if I’m sitting, resting, or running around like a headless chook, there will be no respite until I ask the one seemingly small, possibly huge, question that continues to taunt me. I gulp down the rest of my still too hot chocolate, losing the deal I made with myself in record time with a scolded tongue as punishment. “Which lifetime has been your favourite?” I blurt out.

Mike baulks, coughs, and nearly spits his coffee all over me. I pat him on the back, but he gestures for me to stop. When his coughing fit finally stops, he peeks over at me, grins shyly and shakes his head. “Give it a rest, Ren.”

Screw. That.

I pipe up. “You said that if I have any questions-”

“OK! OK! Keep your crown on!” he says with his hands raised like I’ve got a gun pointed at him. “It was during the nineteenth century. You were a nurse and I was a soldier,” he says, looking everywhere but at me. “You lived to be an old woman and I lived to be an old man. We got a lot done in that lifetime. People still call you the Lady with the Lamp.” He quickly jumps to a stand and turns to leave the room.

“Where are you going off to in such a hurry?”

“To the bathroom, if that’s OK with you, your Highness,” he answers over his shoulder.

As I watch him walk away, I think of me living as an old woman and it hits me. I was once a nurse and a very dedicated one. I remember my privileged upbringing. My parents’ expectations. My expectations. What the poor souls around me were reduced to. Our enemies, foreign and domestic. The constant battles. The wars. The suffering. The pain of life. The peace of death. My distrust of men, bar one. Finding solace amongst amber shards floating in rich brown pools. For a time, he was alone with those eyes wide open in a world that refused to see. His love. Our ongoing affair. Volatile and primal, but good. My body responds in agreement. Apparently, very good. Oh, God...

Thankfully, he takes his time coming back, but when he does, he is holding Georgie Pa’s box still wrapped up in paper.

Feeling his eyes on me, I look up at him standing before me, and the vision of us half naked, frantically kissing and rolling across the floor flashes before my eyes and also in other places. “Oh, God,” I gasp and wince. “Um...I mean, I completely forgot about that,” I mumble, propelling myself upright to snatch Georgie Pa’s box from him.

“So, you do remember,” he says, smirking.


KY LEHMAN is a novelist, a children's author, a teacher of swimming and water safety, wife to her high school sweetheart and the proud mother of their three very tall sons. She lives in the Yarra Ranges, Victoria, Australia with her husband and their children where she is currently writing the second book in The Rosefire Trilogy, The 13th Rising.

Author links:

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

At Death's Door Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

At Death's Door
Book One
Astrid V. Tallaksen     

Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Date of Publication: 8/1/2014

ISBN: 1500486922

Number of pages: 232
Word Count: 79,003  

Cover Artist: Indie-Spired Designs

Book Description:

The world is a pretty straightforward place. Even for medium Sara Stone things seem pretty simple, aside from the whole talking to spirits bit. But when the spirits get too hard to handle and Sara ends up admitted to a mental hospital, the world starts to seem a lot less straightforward. First her family disappears, including her four year old son. Then she gets the sneaking suspicion that not only are the staff at the mental hospital somehow connected, but they also have no intention of ever letting her leave the hospital.

Everything changes when Sara has her first visitor in three months. Daniel is handsome, friendly, and a complete stranger. When he promises to spring her from the hospital and swears that everything she's experienced is completely real, Sara has no choice but to believe him. But once she reaches a run-down Victorian house in the tiny Alabama town her rescuer calls home, the last thing she expects to discover is that every memory she has is a lie.

Daniel reveals a world filled with angels, demons, and an impending war humans know nothing about. Sara wants to ignore her role in the whole mess – all that matters is solving the mystery of where her son has gone. But the forces of Heaven, Hell, and the Heart have other plans for her. Can she find her child before the world comes crashing down?


He lay, on his back, spread eagle upon the steps of the altar. His eyes were closed and I couldn't tell if his chest was rising and falling. The aisle to where he lay was far too long, and I ran, falling down at his side and laying my head on his chest to see if he breathed. What had he said about angels and how they could die? He wasn't breathing and he didn't have a pulse and I didn't have a clue what to do or what had happened. Did CPR make a difference? Was it too late for me to do anything?

“Daniel!” Breathlessly, I called his name and shook him. “Daniel you have to wake up. Please!” I looked around for some sign that someone had come into the chapel and hurt him. It couldn't be an angel but how else would someone come in here without breaking a window or smashing through a door? I realized they could have hurt him elsewhere and just brought him here for me to find. How long had he been here, not breathing or moving? The spirits were absent and offered no answers. I brushed his cheek with a gentle kiss, like I did when Danny had a fever, to see how warm he was. Daniel didn't have the chill of death, but his skin didn't hold the warmth I was so used to. Feeling helpless to do anything, I gathered him into my arms so that I could pull him the rest of the way onto the altar and try my hardest to resuscitate him. I'd just pulled him into my lap, my tears falling unbidden and landing on his face, when he gasped, his back arching then relaxing again as his breathing returned to normal.

About the Author:

Debut author Astrid V. Tallaksen grew up in North Alabama. She was fortunate to be raised with a heart for stories of creatures and places outside of this world. Her love of reading quickly became a love of writing.

She spent several years creating content and helping writers to improve their craft on the online world of Althanas, a creative writing workshop in the guise of a roleplaying forum.

A self-avowed nerd, Astrid loves science fiction, comic books, and eighties fantasy movies in the vein of The Princess Bride and Labyrinth.

Her geekiness extends to annual volunteer work at the massive sci-fi convention known as Dragon*con every year in Atlanta, Georgia.

In the odd times that she's not immersed in geekdom or writing, Astrid loves to sing karaoke, crochet, and spend time with her family and pets.

Twitter: @astrid_writes