Brain to Books Blog Tour – Linda Rawlins

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During July and August, I will be co-hosting Angela B. Chrysler’s Brain to Books Blog Tour, where I will share information about 60+ authors and their works.


Fast Facts

Author: Linda Rawlins
Genre: Mystery/Suspense/Thriller, Religion/Christian/Catholic fiction
Books: The Bench, Fatal Breach, Sacred Gold from the The Rocky Meadow Mystery Series

Official Site

Bio

Linda RawlinsAuthor of Fatal Breach, The Bench, Sacred Gold

As a child, I loved to read, whenever and whatever I could get my hands on. I started to write my own “Nancy Drew” type mystery in fifth grade. As a student, I studied Biology in Vermont, Sciences and Literature in college and eventually became a physician. I enjoy writing mysteries that contain medical and light spiritual content. Either way, a good murder mystery is always fun.

My first book, The Bench, is set in the fictional town of Rocky Meadow, VT. The Rocky Meadow Mystery series then continues with Fatal Breach and Sacred Gold, although each book can be read as a stand-alone, just like your favorite episodes of a mystery show. Dr. Amy Daniels is a trauma surgeon who moves to Rocky Meadow, VT to escape family tragedy. There she meets, Father Michael Lauretta, the psychologist pastor of St. Francis church and Rocky Meadow Retreat Center. Together, they solve a mystery and search for a killer with the help of Katie, the church cook, Willow, a teenage millionaire, Father Victor, visiting priest from Chicago and Tony Noce, owner of Hasco’s Bar and Grill. In Fatal Breach, the characters become involved with cybercrime and a murder at a local soup kitchen. Sacred Gold is about gold treasure buried in the catacombs of the church. There is murder as well as a race to see who finds it first.

While solving crimes, the main characters deal with life, loss, starting over and developing an appreciation for the friends and loved ones in their lives.

Linda Rawlins lives in New Jersey with her family. When she is not working in medicine, she is writing.

rocky Meadow seriesCome visit at www.lindarawlins.com – sign up for my newsletter.

You can also find me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/lindarawlinsauthor , www.goodreads.com/LindaRawlins , my Amazon author page https://www.amazon.com/author/lindara… and www.Twitter.com/@LRL8
Healthy Blessed Reading!

Author Accomplishments

In my real life, I work as a physician in hospice.

The Bench Blurb

The BenchMedical Murder Mystery – Rocky Meadow, Vermont, seemed to be a quiet little town until people started dying or showing up in the emergency room under mysterious circumstances. Dr. Amy Daniels is a trauma surgeon, who recently moved to Rocky Meadow after a family tragedy. There she meets Father Michael Lauretta, a psychologist priest who counsels troubled clergy and pastor of the famous Rocky Meadow Retreat House. Together, they save lives and souls and try to solve a mystery before they become the next target of a greedy killer. Will they be able to put a stop to this deadly rampage? The unexpected conclusion awaits in The Bench.

Review

A great novel By bookcollecter on June 22, 2014
I loved this book for many reasons. The story was solid, believable, engaging, uncluttered and written with authority. The characters were well developed, from the major characters – doctor and priest, to the supporting cast, such as the young girl, who is left a sizable inheritance and has to deal with a destructive, self-serving father.

I found myself reading this without pause for hours on the day I picked it up. I guess this was because I was immersed in the story. I finished reading it with a lasting impression and for this reason will be buying Ms Rawlins next offering. She is a talented writer who manages to bring plot characters and story to live with ease.

Fatal Breach Blurb

FatalActing medical examiner, Dr. Amy Daniels and Father Michael Lauretta become entangled in murder at the local soup kitchen in

Burlington, Vermont. As their intricate relationship develops, they are drawn into a sinister plot as FBI Special Agent Marcus Cain pursues a deadly internet activist group, known as Shepherd Force. They soon learn, the cybercrime organization will stop at nothing to retrieve an illegal flash drive worth millions of dollars.

Sacred Gold Blurb

Sacred Gold CoverAn old journal, revealing hidden treasure at St. Francis Church, falls into the hands of acting medical examiner, Dr. Amy Daniels, and tests her faith in life, love, and trust. With the help of the church pastor, Father Michael Lauretta, they try to solve the century-old mystery. Before long, the two find themselves in the company of a trained Italian curator, desperate to ward off her greedy, possessive boss, who follows her to Vermont and intends to steal the treasure.
Against the backdrop of snowy Rocky Meadow, Vermont, bustling during the Christmas holidays, the remainder of the St. Francis family try to secure a new soup kitchen, only to find charity cannot escape tragedy. When arson and murder lead to a dark, dangerous chase in the catacombs of the church, they all join together to follow age-old clues and find Sacred Gold, before the treasure and more lives are lost forever.

Connect with Linda

 Website
Facebook
Pinterest
LinkedIn
Amazon Author Page
Goodreads
Twitter 

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – J.S. Burke

brain-to-books-blog-tour

During July and August, I am co-hosting Angela B. Chrysler’s Brain to Books Blog Tour, where I share information about 60+ authors and their works.


Fast Facts

Author: J.S. Burke
Genre: Young Adult Science Fantasy
Book: The Dragon Dreamer of the Dragon Dreamer Series

Official Site

Bio: 

J.S. BurkeI have worked as an artist, chemist, teacher, and as a marine biologist, studying creatures of the dark abyss and ping on coral reefs. I toss lightning with dragons and quest across the sea. I’ve published five marine research papers, two hands-on chemistry books for children, one art/science activity/coloring book, and one science fantasy novel.

I was manager of a marine research program for the Florida Department of Natural Resources. I have degrees in Math, Science, Marine Science, and Education, with certification to teach Math, Science, Middle Grades, and Gifted.

Author Accomplishments: 

I have a free math/science/art lending library for local teachers and homeschoolers with my books and classroom sets of crystals, kaleidoscopes, shark’s tooth, etc. Crystal Geometry has hands-on activities that use the angles of beautiful crystals to explore chemistry and geometry. Crystal Colors has math and science activities with shells, crystals, and a huge fossil shark’s tooth. Other writers shared their craft knowledge with me; I have passed this along with constructive reviews and occasional edits for other authors.

Book Blurb:

The Dragon DreamerTHE DRAGON DREAMER is a young adult science fantasy/adventure with flying dragons and an undersea world, layered for readers age 9 to 99. A secret gift. An unlikely friendship. A dangerous quest.

Arak is a misfit, called “Dreamer” and tormented by other young dragons. Determined to prove himself he leaves on a dangerous quest, is caught in a fierce sea-storm, and crashes on ice. Wounded and alone, he faces death. Then a fearless, undersea shape-shifter named Scree heals him, and an unlikely friendship begins. When an undersea volcano erupts it triggers a towering tsunami and a deadly chain of events. Can Arak use his unique talents to save the dragons?

Book Review by Maranda on Amazon

I really enjoyed this fantasy journey. The plot was good, filled with lots of action and excitement to keep things moving along, but my favorite things about the book were the characters and the author’s gift for detail.

To me, characters are what truly make a book engaging, regardless of the genre, and I immediately found myself invested in Arak and Scree. As the book went on, many other characters appeared but I think Arak and Scree remained my favorites throughout. I have always been fascinated by “healers” so that element about Scree appealed to me greatly. I found it kind of unique to have an octopus as a main character in a fantasy book about dragons, but I felt that it worked well.

As for the detail, I mention that because the author truly has a gift for painting scenes with words. I love books where I can really picture what is going on in my head and for some reason, that definitely worked for me with this book. Even though this book is technically a middle grade fantasy, I think young adult and adult audiences would greatly enjoy the tale as well!

 Excerpt

“Please be careful.” Orm’s arms curled and uncurled with anxiety. “It’s not safe to be alone, away from the pod.”

Scree sighed. It was unnatural to travel alone. Most octopi appreciated the security of a village, with its seafood farms and sturdy dens. Each spring, many thousands of octopus eggs hatched. The tiny hatchlings drifted far from home on sea currents. Few survived. Orm was a young juvenile on the return migration when a shark tore by and killed all of his comrades. Scree still saw the haunting memory in his eyes. He could not believe that anything she found was worth the terrible risk of exploring. She twined two arms affectionately with her mate. “Your research can be done here, but I must leave to gather healing supplies.”

Orm handed her a large pearl. “For luck.”

“A black pearl . . . that’s new. It’s beautiful.” She placed it in her bag and looked into his eyes. “I will be careful.” Scree flowed away into the darkness.

Scree pulsed through the inky dark waters toward the starlit surface, seeking rare items for her healer’s bag. She also sought solitude and the magic of the stars, which shone in their full glory during the new moon. Few octopi ventured so far from home. Fewer still risked the dangers of a journey through open water, with no place to hide.

Scree twirled beneath the starry sky. Then she headed for a small ice floe that she’d found earlier, where a weathered branch protruded.

A golden streak seared the dark sky. A falling star! Her eyes widened as it plunged toward the small ice sheet, growing to the size of a shark. The crash shattered the night, rocking the ice and almost knocking her off her log seat. The star flopped, in a very un-starlike manner.

Scree had never seen anything like it. She instantly camouflaged, changing her color to match the log perfectly. Scree could stretch about two feet across between the tips of her arms. But this frightful, alien creature must be at least eight feet long and it had gleaming sharp claws. She trembled and flowed away, matching the log as she moved, invisible.

Scree glanced back, ready to slip into the sea, hanging by the tip of one arm.

The creature writhed.

Scree stopped. It looked more dangerous than a shark, but it must have been injured in such an incredible fall. She felt the weight of her healer’s bag, and the responsibility. She struggled to look beyond the deadly claws, noticing instead the crimson splashes of blood that stained the snow.

Scree rippled back onto the branch.

Connect with J.S. Burke

Jenny S. Burke
Facebook
Twitter
Google+
https://www.wattpad.com/user/DragonsWriter

Buy The Dragon Dreamer 

Amazon US
Amazon UK
NOOK
ITUNES
KOBO

Giveaway:

“Like” my Facebook author page from your home page (or like three posts on my author page if you’ve previously liked the page) and leave a message here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jenny-S-Burke/721518861218158?ref=aymt_homepage_panel You will be entered into a random drawing for one of THREE free kindle copies of The Dragon Dreamer. Winners will be contacted within three days after the event.

See additional Giveaways for the Brain to Books Summer Blog Tour here at Lu J. Whitley’s site!

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Sylvie Nickels

brain-to-books-blog-tour

During July and August, I will be co-hosting Angela B. Chrysler’s Brain to Books Blog Tour, where I will share information about 60+ authors and their works.


Fast Facts:

Author: Sylvie Nickels
Genre: modern fiction with emphasis on reconciliation, effects of war, positive attitude towards aging
Book: It’ll be Better Tomorrow

Official Site 

Bio

I started writing as a child in World War Two, and have barely stopped since. Much of it has been as a travel writer for major UK newspapers and magazines. More recently I have returned to my first love of writing fiction and have self-published several novels, two anthologies of short stories, and a true adventure (The Big Muddy – a canoe journey down the Mississippi with my late husband).

A recurrent theme has been the effect of war on the children and grandchildren of participants (as in my trilogy ‘Another Kind of Loving’, ‘Beyond the Broken Gate, and ‘Long Shadows; and, more recently, ‘The Other Side of Silence’). Reconciliation is also a recurrent theme as is my belief that it is better to be part of the cure than part of the problem. My first attempt at a YA novel deals with the problem of addiction. ‘It’ll be Better Tomorrow’ is my most recently anthology and puts the matter of aging in a positive light.

I currently have two further projects in my mind. One is yet another anthology, this time venturing into the world of semi-fantasy and parallel universes. The other is concerned with the growing problem of dementia in what is a massively increasing number in our aging population in the UK (and probably the world). Having cared for a husband with mild dementia, with all the humour and frustrations that go with short term memory loss, I am also keenly aware that beneath the illness remains a very worthwhile companion and friend. His long term memory remained phenomenal and has led me to create a new type of hero for my next book: a man with mild dementia who provides the solutions to a mystery involving identity theft.

Author Accomplishments

My late husband (my best mate George died in February 2013) and I travelled widely, walked a great deal and were responsible for creating a marked circular walk in our corner of England (north Oxfordshire).

My Swiss grandfather was a forester and I was responsible for the creation of a wood in the same part of England: very small but it has added a new small green patch to the map of our county. It belongs to a national charity called the Woodland Trust, but we had to raise a lot of money in a hurry to qualify for their planting of the trees – all native trees and now – nearly 20 years later – looking really splendid. It’s a great magnet for walkers and children.

I belong to and am active in U3A (not sure if it exists in the U.S., but it’s an organisation for retired people, organising groups with shared interests such as writing, art history, philosophy). If you don’t have it, I suggest you start it (they will have a website).

At nearly 85, I guess my stamina isn’t quite what it was!

Reviews

Read reviews at The Book Bag
Read reviews at S. Nickle’s Books

Blurb

The older generation don’t always get a good press, but some of them are quite remarkable. For example, teenager Buzz was blown away when he found how his Granny Em had put his lessons on computing to very unusual use (Grannies dot com). Harry Briggs was another one who managed to turn the tables with a little help from his grandson and modern technology (Wake Up Call). In contrast, Elli (The Class of ‘65) and Phillida (The Don’t Care Generation) had both left an impression on the Third World; Alice learned at last to stand up for herself (The Wrong Track), Robert Sinclair kept his exploits to himself (Reluctant Hero), and Astra finally solved the mystery of her father’s World War Two trauma (Just Nineteen Days). But maybe the last word remains with Ben whose mantra provided the title for this book. When pushed about his uncertain future, he unfailingly said “It’ll be Better Tomorrow.” 

These are some of the stories of Manorfields’ residents, their relatives and their carers. There is humour, poignancy, even romance, but above all they demonstrate that life is very often stranger than fiction.

Links

Facebook
Twitter
Amazon Author Page

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Laxmi Harihara

brain-to-books-blog-tour

During July and August, I am co-hosting Angela B. Chrysler’s Brain to Books Blog Tour, where I will share information about 60+ authors and their works.


Fast Facts:

Author: Laxmi Harihara
Genre: YA Action-Thriller
Book: The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer (Ruby Iyer #1)

Official Site

Bio

Laxmi HariharaA near life incident told Laxmi Hariharan to write. She never stopped. Laxmi has been a journalist with The Independent and a global marketer with MTV and NBCUniversal. She is the author of the kindle bestselling, epic fantasy The Destiny of Shaitan (Bombay Chronicles, 1) and blogs for the Huffington Post among others. She has a weakness for skinny tattoed rock stars, electronica & sweetened chai. London is where she creates. Bombay is what fires her imagination.

Author Accomplishments

The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer debuted #1 Hot New Release on Amazon Asian LIt, and placed as a finalist at the National Indie Excellence Awards.

Blurb

The Many Live of RRuby IyerA YA action thriller, with strong dystopian undertones, taking you on a white knuckle ride through a disintegrating Bombay City.

A terrifying encounter propels Ruby Iyer from her everyday commute into a battle for her own survival. Trusting her instincts, she fights for what she believes in and is led on a mysterious path between life and death on the crowded roads of Bombay. When her best friend is kidnapped by the despotic Dr Braganza, she will do anything to rescue him. Anything, including taking the help of the sexy Vikram Roy, a cop-turned-rogue, on a mission to save Bombay. The city needs all the help it can get, and these two are the only thing standing between its total destruction by Dr Braganza’s teen army. As Bombay falls apart, will Ruby be able to save her friend and the city? Will she finally discover her place in a city where she has never managed to fit in? And what about her growing feelings for Vikram?

Review

… a white-knuckle ride through a disintegrating Bombay as a terrifying encounter propels our heroine from her everyday commute into a battle for survival – her own survival and the survival of the city she loves.” – Fran Pickering, Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award winning author.

“Laxmi Hariharan can write! With great detail and high emotions, Ms. Hariharan’s world feels real, depressed and stark.” – Dii, Amazon Top 500 reviewer

“…In the end it’s not only Ruby who has many lives and many possible paths: it’s the reader who follows her journey to self-realization and newfound perspectives. And perhaps this is the greatest strength of all in a dystopian young adult novel that presents so much more than a singular, easy path.” – D. Donovan, eBook Reviewer, MBR (Midwest Book Reviews)

“The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer, intricately weaves high stakes adventure, voracious determination born out of love, and richly detailed prose in one captivating story. In a market flooded with YA thrillers and dystopian fantasies, The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer offers the best features of this subgenre while forging new paths in its setting and context.”  – Charmaine Savage, Reviewer, NetGalley

“The author does an excellent job of portraying the city-as-a-mother, leaving the hero(ine) to grapple with the dilemma of choice.” – Jormund Elver

“Laxmi builds worlds populated with endearingly down to earth bravehearts.” – Inma Martinez, world leading digital media strategist (FORTUNE and TIME)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kvoJEs5b2sg&feature=youtu.be

Excerpt

The Origins of Ruby Iyer

Growing up in Bombay I was weighed down by the expectations of traditional Indian society. Yet, I wanted to be economically independent. So, daily I would leave the relative safety of home, knowing that my commute to work was going to be nightmarish. It’s just how public transport is in this city. When you get on a bus you know that the man standing behind is going to brush against you. When you walk through a crowded local train platform, you accept that you are probably going to be felt up. Every time this happened to me, I would get really angry.

But, I would deal with it and get on, because if I raised my voice or did something about it, the results would not bode well for me. So, when a young photojournalist was raped in the centre of Bombay in broad daylight, I was furious.

It was as if nothing had changed in all the years I had been away.

Then, I had a vision of this young girl who would not back down anymore; who would stand up for herself regardless of the consequences. Who would follow her heart … Thus Ruby Iyer was born.

Make no mistake though Ruby is her own person. She leads and I follow.

1

THE MORNING INVOCATION from the Shiva temple seeps through the holes in the faulty concrete walls of my bedroom. By the time they reach my ears, the Sanskrit chants entwine with the pinging of my iPhone, a multi-layered vibration, which blends with the humming of the air conditioner. The resultant noise is a mix of the spiritual and the electronic, tinged with the salty air from the Arabian Sea. It’s that special Bombay vibe, found only in the former seven islands of Bom Bahia—the Good Bay, as named by its Portuguese founders. Reaching out to shut off the phone, my hand slams into the glass of water next to my bed. It promptly falls over, the crash more effective in cutting through my sleep than the iPhone’s wake-up alarm.

Meanwhile, the air conditioner works overtime, trying to bring down the temperature of the room to less than blistering hot. I stumble out of bed and into the adjoining kitchen to fire up the stove below the saucepan half filled with water.

“Where’s my chai?” Pankaj, my flatmate, props himself against the doorway to his own cubicle-sized room.

“Get it yourself, bitch,” I reply mildly, spooning out tea leaves into a saucepan.

“… Please?” He wheedles, “Pretty please?”

Ha! I’ve trained him well. “But, since you have asked me so politely … I might just make your chai. This time.

“Haven’t I told you to wait till the water boils before adding the tea leaves?” Pankaj protests. I mentally mouth before adding the tea leaves in sync with his voice.

“Okay, Mum,” I mumble, splashing milk into the now boiling liquid and letting the concoction stew for a few seconds before pouring it into the mismatched cups. I add sugar to Panky’s cup, pausing in the act of adding a spoonful to my own.

“Ah! Time for the sugar dance, I see.”

“Umph!” It’s uncomfortable that Panky knows me that well.

“Go on, do it, Ruby. A spoonful more can’t kill you.”

Of course, I agree with him. Not that I would ever admit to it aloud. I dunk in the sugar, stirring it quickly. If I didn’t see it, it didn’t exist, right?

Sliding one of the cups towards him, I gulp down the steaming liquid from the other. The blood vessels along my skin bloom as if dancing to the sudden onslaught of the monsoons.

“Don’t kill all your taste buds in one go, now,” Panky says, grinning.

“I have to drink my chai boiling hot.”

“No kidding!” He teases. “You are the first South Indian I know who prefers tea to coffee.”

“Strange, no?” I perch on the sole remaining barstool at the tiny breakfast nook. “I knew we were going to be friends for life from the moment you called me a South Indian, instead of that hated M word.”

“The M word?” Pankaj sputters. “Whoever says Madrasi anymore? Just because Madras is one of the biggest cities in the south of India, doesn’t mean you just have to label anyone from the region Madrasi.

“I know, right? Once, I had my friend Tania over for lunch. Ma was happy to ignore her till she asked me innocently if I was Madrasi. At which point Ma gave poor Tania an earful and had her run off crying. I don’t know what traumatised me more—having my best friend call me Madrasi or losing a friend, thanks to Ma’s outburst.”

Not that being called Madrasi is derogatory. It had just felt uncool in South Bombay, or SoBo, as those square miles of eye-wateringly expensive real estate are called. I had grown up there surrounded by prime quality human specimens, all tall, and fair, bearing genes of their Aryan forefathers from the north of the country.

Culturally we may well have been from another planet, the smells and sounds of my home were that alien to them.

“Your ma’s quite a character, hanh?”

“Yah!” You have no idea! “You should meet my dad, though.”

Panky opens his mouth as if to ask another question about my family. I am relieved when instead he queries, “Breakfast?”

“Nah … On a diet, remember?”

“No dinner, no breakfast—you are going to fade away,” he chides.

“If only that were true. This,” I pinch the pyjama-clad skin of my thighs, holding it out to the side, “is proof that I have enough fat to survive a few famines.”

“Honestly, lovely,” he grumbles, “you do need energy to survive.”

“I live on vitamin C and fresh air,” I proclaim.

“In this city? Perhaps you should rephrase that to vitamin D and recycled air.”

Panky always has these facts right at his fingertips. Trust me to have the only fashion-conscious, high IQ geek in the world for a best friend.

I pat his cheek. “Stop worrying. I will be just fine.” Tossing back the dregs of my chai, I thump my mug down. “It’s an experiment,” I call out over my shoulder, en route to my room. “I am trying to see how many meals I can skip before I give in to the hunger.”

Panky groans, “Why can’t you place the used mug in the sink? I simply don’t understand, you spoilt children from rich homes …”

It makes me grin with wicked pleasure.

Passing the sword hanging on the wall of the living room, I pull it down, brandishing it at him in a mock attack. It’s a strange weapon inherited from a past tenant. It’s quite ugly to look at, and rusted from the sea air. Yet it seems to have some kind of antique value; it’s probably the most valuable thing in the run-down living room. It’s definitely the quirkiest item there.

Our landlady, Mrs D’Souza, has furnished the room, combining antique pieces with modern glass and chrome. It’s an unsettling combination, as if I am forever balanced on a portal between the past and the future.

I slip the sword into its sheath and hang it back on the hook. My regular workouts with the weapon have made me feel rather possessive about it. Or perhaps it has claimed me?

Walking past my bedroom into the bathroom, I drop my pyjamas before stepping into the shower.

Despite my earlier dawdling, I am dressed in under ten minutes. I throw on my usual uniform of sneakers and a plaid shirt tucked into the waistband of skinny Diesel jeans, with my satchel-like handbag slung over my shoulder. Oversized Ray-Bans are perched on my nose.

I may have left SoBo, but damned if I was going to give up my designer clothes. Sure I am just an intern, but hey, nothing stops me from being with it, right?

I pause at the doorway to the living room. Panky has draped himself across the settee with the delirious chatter of a hyper-excited news presenter for company. “… Mars, Earth, and the sun all aligned last night, a rare opposition of the planets that only happens once every 778 days. But this event is even more remarkable as it occurred precisely a week before everyone on Earth will see the first of four blood-red moons. An extraordinary event some believe represents the second coming of the saviour …”

“Oh! What trash,” I complain. “It’s worse than reality TV. And why is she always screaming at the top of her voice?”

“It’s breaking news, and she’s excited to break it to us. Isn’t that enough?” Panky asks. “Besides, I am a news junkie.” He turns down the volume and whistles. “Sexy model look today, I see?”

“You think?” I pose, my right hand on my slightly thrust out hip. “Really, Panky? This is hardly sexy.”

“It’s those sunglasses, my dear. V-e- r‑y sexy.”

“And here I was trying to downplay my allure.” I flutter my eyelashes.

“Just the opposite, d-ah-ling!”

“Will it attract too much attention?” I ask, worried. “Should I change, you think?”

There is bound to be at least one smart-ass, wannabe Romeo on the street who is going to whistle while cycling by, or offer rude remarks while I’m walking past.

“Nah!” Pankaj assures me. “You can handle yourself, no? After all, if it wasn’t for you …”

I know he is thinking about how we met. One night, on the way back home, I had stumbled across Panky, surrounded by three other kids. One of them had him by the collar, the other held a knife. They had been trying to rob him of his phone and his wallet. Good thing I had some knowledge of self-defence.

I stayed to help Panky.

And they had come at both of us.

If it had not been for a family passing by who had raised the alarm … I dread to think what would have happened.

Still, one rash act of courage does not mean I am used to unwanted male scrutiny on the streets.

I am better at coming to other people’s aid than my own.

“I am not so sure.” The skin-tight jeans live up to their promise, embracing my curves. I know the trousers will seem provocative.

Glancing down at my iPhone to check the time, I shrug. “Damn, no time to change anyway.” I pull at the shirt till it comes free of the jeans, the material now halfway to my thighs.

“Gotta go, bye, honey!” I blow Pankaj a kiss. It’s a joke between us, this role-playing at matrimony.

“Ciao, darling.” Pankaj grimaces. “We’re never gonna find husbands at this rate.”

I lean over to kiss his smooth cheek. “With friends like you, who needs a man?” I grin.

“I do!” Pankaj’s voice follows me out the door as I run towards the gates of our bungalow in Pali Hill, the most genteel of all the middle-class suburbs of the city.

I pause on the threshold next to a man who is always there, just outside the gates. He is always bent over his notebook: writing.

He has curly hair worn in a halo as if to contain the flow of letters, like Lord Shiva trying to contain the restless holy Ganges river in his matted locks. As always, he is wearing faded jeans, a grey shirt tucked in, and a tie loosely knotted around his neck. His shoes have seen better days. The sign in front of him reads:

The end is near

There’s an upturned hat to receive any donations from passers-by. He never asks for money.

He is a writer.

He is a beggar.

“How many days, then?” I ask as I always do. It’s another running joke in my life, this wisecracking with the gentleman-beggar. He’s never answered me. Till now.

He holds up his fingers: seven of them.

A tremor runs down my back.

“Seven what? Months? Years?” I demand fiercely.

He only smiles, showing a gap between his front teeth. I am looking for reassurances. I get questions in return. I run out of the gates of the bungalow.

***

Having hailed down an auto rickshaw, I stand on the platform of Bandra train station. I have to position myself sideways to fit between the saree-clad aunty on one side, and a girl furiously working the keys of her phone on the other. The fishy smell of sweaty armpits shot through with the sharp notes of red carbolic—Lifebuoy soap—entangle in the hairs of my nostrils.

A ripple runs through the throng in anticipation of the arrival of the train. We are runners at the start of an obstacle race, each of us itching to be the first off the mark.

I brush away a light stroke on my thigh, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, pushing away the large handbag of the woman next to me, which threatens to get in the way, hampering my own jump to the finish line. As the touch persists, I finally look down to see a hand. It brushes my thigh, once, then again. Its fingers walk their way up my leg, disappearing underneath the hem of my shirt. The hand has a life of its own, detached from its owner. It pauses once to gently squeeze the soft bulge of my jeans around the skin of my inner thigh.

I follow the arm, the other way, all the way up to the face of the thin, gangly fellow it belongs to. Where did he come from? And I had thought it was safe to travel in the ladies’ compartment.

He stares straight ahead, a serene look on his features, as if to say, Don’t look at me, I don’t know what my hand is doing, really! It belongs to someone else. 

I open my mouth to protest at the invasion, yet something stops me from saying anything aloud. Should I scream? Shove away that horrible thing even now touching my body?

He smiles. Innocence—it flickers on his face, breaking the trance I have fallen into. My hand jerks up to slap him; once, twice—and then I am falling.

Shoved by the same hand, I am thrust through the birth canal of the crowds. I burst through to the other side, plunging headfirst off the platform. Hitting the edge of the surface, I tumble onto the railway tracks. Pain explodes through my side.

I have always obsessed about the future … is it because I don’t have one?

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Ani H. Manjikian

brain-to-books-blog-tour

During July and August, I will be co-hosting Angela B. Chrysler’s Brain to Books Blog Tour, where I will share information about 60+ authors and their works.


Fast Facts

Author: Ani H. Manjikian
Genre: Contemporary, Sci-Fi Fantasy, Military, Women’s Fiction
Book: Spirit of the Lone Horse

Official Site

Bio

Ani H. ManjikianBorn and raised in Southern California, the diagnosis of hydrocephalus at birth should have killed Ani, or worse, left her blank to the world. Her strength of spirit, parents’ love, and a miracle all combined to overcome that prognosis within nine months. From this almost impossible beginning, she has developed into all-around person with the technical knowledge and analytical mind of a programmer, creative and detailed orientation of a writer/editor, and aesthetic instincts of a designer/photographer.

Ani’s writing career started when a friend in Cyprus made her promise to stop throwing away her writings because she thought they weren’t good enough. After returning to the States, Ani set out to finish a single horse story and tried to get it published. However, the book, like the writer, needed time to mature.

While perfecting her craft, Ani graduated from San Francisco State with a BA in Industrial Arts and worked several jobs from retail sales to human resources project management. Her innate ability to learn new computer programs with minimal instruction combined with her need to be creative led to her current long-term stint as a web designer and developer.

The book, meanwhile, spawned several siblings until there was enough for a series. Not knowing what to call it, Ani turned to another friend who suggested a word play on the books main themes of horses, space, family, and heroes. Spirit of the Lone Horse, the first book in the Stars of Heros series, was published in March 2015 by Unsolicited Press. The second, Do You Believe in Legend?, is currently in development.

Book Blurb for Ani’s next release

Title: Do You Believe in Legend?
Release Date: TBD

DYBIL-WebJeff Mason has always been a part of Jo’s life, offering an encouraging or wise word when she needed it plus many other things she can never completely thank him for. She has no reason to think of him as anything other her cousin. Then she learns that he replaced her real one, who died saving his life. That discovery plus hearing her own voice in a place where she shouldn’t have leaves Jo wondering about her place in time.

When Jeff’s twin brother Randy falls into her lap, both literally and figuratively, Jo hopes he can give her some answers. There is only one slight problem… He doesn’t remember anything about himself or his life and what he does, doesn’t help.

Together, the three of them learn that life isn’t about who or what you know, but who and what you care for.

Interview with Ani H. Manjikian

Tell us a little about yourself. (How did you get started writing? What do you do when you’re not writing?

I started really writing because I didn’t think there was enough horse stories in the world. All I wanted to do was that one horse story and forget about it. My series happened by accident when I realized that I had too many things I wanted to do with my characters to fit in one book.

Before I wrote for a purpose, I dabbled or did school assignments. My dabbles usually ended up in the trashcan. One day, while I was living in Cyprus (the country, not the city), a friend of mine got a hold of my dribble. They took a look at it, said it was decent, and made me promise to not to throw away anything I wrote ever again. I’ve managed to keep that promise.

When I’m not writing, I’m editing other people’s works, talking my dogs for a walk, watching TV, programming, playing computer games, reading . . . Mainly just, being a normal person.

Is this your first book? How many books have you written prior (if any?) List other titles if applicable.

First published, second written. When I began my writing adventure, I “completed” three books. It was more like I was yelling at the world with the first two. The third survived in an endless editing loop. They and me needed time to mature. When they did, I thought the third book was going to be published first since it seemed the most ready. That is, until someone read it and said that with everything that was happening the needed a little more information first. I figured I had that information in Spirit, even though the storytelling was lousy. I threw 90 percent of it out and went from there.

What genre do you enjoy writing the most and what is this book about?

I don’t like to be confined to one genre, that’s why I like contemporary since by its very definition it spans any and all genres. To me putting labels on something (or someone) just puts them in a box and I hate boxes.

Spirit, on the surface, is about a woman overcoming her fear of horses and attempting to make her lifelong dream come true by riding in and winning a prestigious competition. Someone attacks her team in both subtle and direct ways. One incident apparently lives the woman dead and that’s where the twists and turns in the story really begin.

What inspired you to write this book?

Spirit of the Lone HorseGrowing up, I loved and devoured the Black Stallion series, Black Beauty, and other horse stories. I couldn’t get enough of them. I noticed that there weren’t many of them out there, so I decided to write one. I never intend to write a series, but, as I got into the story, I realized that there was too much happening and too many questions to be answered for just one book.

How did you come up with the title of your book or series?

In the Black Stallion movie, there is a seen where the Black is looking out and down from a cliff during sunset. I wrote a poem that described the seven attributes I thought of when that image came to mind. Since I was capturing the essence of the a single horse, I came up with the title Spirit of the Lone Horse. The poem, in a modified form, is actually in the book.

The series one a friend of mine gave me. As the series was developing itself, I was looking for an identity for it. I liked the word Heroes, but didn’t want any comparison to the NBC franchise with the same name. My friend suggested a word play on the books main themes of horses, space, family, and heroes. So we came up with Stars of Heros. The cool thing is that Heros is part of Paleo-Balkan mythology (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paleo-Balkan_mythology).

Tell us a little bit about your cover art. Who designed it? Why did you go with that particular image/artwork?

I designed it. The full story behind the cover can be found at http://rightthewriter.com/2015/02/22/evolution-of-a-cover/. To sum it up, I had a very strong feeling that the cover needed a horse’s head on it with the horse looking at the reader somehow. Every time I look at the horse on the cover, I think about all the horses I have ever known and how they would give me that all knowing look sometimes. There’s also the added, and unexpected, benefit of the horse’s nose pointing toward the title of the book in the final design. Good layouts are always designed with the idea of directional images leading the reader to important text.

If you could cast your characters in the Hollywood adaptation of your book, who would play your characters?

I’m not sure. I have a few ideas, but I don’t keep up with the latest trends in movies and actors to know who’s hot and who’s not. I could name a few I’d like, but I’m afraid that might be a little too old. Thing is, I wouldn’t want an actor who was just doing the role for the money. I’d want only the ones who had bought into the role they wanted and could identify themselves with the characters and their story. I would want their acting to inspire me when I needed to add more depth to the character. I believe, like with books and their words, if the passion isn’t on the screen, the audience feels and knows it.

Do you have any other talents or hobbies?

Well, to support myself until my writing career takes off, I’m a computer jockey. I develop and code websites based on the designs that I’m given. When I’m not programming, writing, or hanging out on social media, I’m gaming. Not one of those all out let’s win tournament types, but still I enjoy my playtime. I also love to read and listen to music.

Interview Questions

Sorry I couldn’t pick five or seven, but I did limit myself to ten as well as hybrid a few similar ones together.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

I like the Ursual Le Guin quote “But when people say, Did you always want to be a writer? I have to say no! I always was a writer.” While I can’t claim that exactly, it’s close to how I feel. I’ve always enjoyed books and stories. I especially love the ones where I can actually hear and see the characters and experience the world they lived in. I hope through my writings I do the same for my readers.

Defining when I first considered myself a writer is hard. I’ve always felt more comfortable expressing myself through writing than speaking. While I like the spotlight, I tend to get nervous when I’m in it. When I’m writing, I don’t have such a constraint. I still try to be respectful, but I can be a little more expressive and enjoy a conversation with someone without worrying about the mixed messages I’m getting from their tone and body language.

Since I first picked up the pen for something other than school assignments, I’ve always felt like writing and being at a known writer was going to be my destiny. I validated that belief when I published my book. My validation grows stronger with the each review the book gains on Amazon. Having a release party of FB book helps too (https://www.facebook.com/events/862491687133820/).I probably should have done the release party thing sooner . . . :))

What does your writing process look like? Are you a plotter or do you write by the seat of your pants?

I’m a fly by the seat of my pantser with a little plotter mixed in. Because I’m working on a series, I have to have the organization part to keep track of everything. Right now, that organization is an official timeline of major events and the fact that I have the ideas for every book laid out in Scrivener. Some have more ideas than others, including complete chapters.

When I write a book, I like to work on the book ends first and then middle. Chapters organize themselves as I follow plot lines, characters, or situations through the manuscript. I’ve gotten more disciplined about working on only one book at a time, but there are times that I start in one book that triggers an idea, or important piece of information, for another book, so, of course, I have to write it down. Or, if I’m stuck on the book I’m working on, I’ll work on another just to get the creative juices flowing.

Having everything in Scrivener helps. I don’t have to worry about saving things, I can move stuff around, and I can cross-reference characters and situations as needed.

Is there a certain type of scene that’s harder for you to write than others? Love? Action? Racy?

Intimate ones. My style of writing could be classified as Deep Point of View where my goal is submerse my readers into my characters’ lives through experiences that seem, and are real. To me, intimate sex scenes just can’t be researched and described. They have to be experienced than those feelings translated into something meaningful. Problem is I only had an intimate encounter once in my life and it was with a person who I no longer trust or even know.

Is there one subject you would never write about as an author? What is it?

There are actually quite a few subjects I wouldn’t right about and only because I’m not sure I could speak with enough of an authoritative, or genuine, voice on them. Being genuine in my storytelling and characters is important to me. Does that limit my ability to write? Hardly.

Who is your favorite character from your book and why? How about your least favorite character? What makes them less appealing to you?

My favorite character is my main one, Jo Mason. She’s the only character I have to write in 1st person present when she is thinking or speaking. When she isn’t herself or someone else is describing her or an interaction they had with her, then I do 3rd person past. Jo, like her brothers, are reflections of different parts of me. She, especially, because she’s strong-willed, seeks understanding and love, but doesn’t need sex to validate herself, and has a very soft and vulnerable side under her tough, no worries, exterior. She also gets to fly jets, lead people by example, live and work around horses, and other stuff I can imagine doing.

I don’t have a least favorite character. There are ones that are more difficult to write than others because their beliefs and reactions are different than mine. Sill they give me a chance to express myself, so I can really hate them for that.

If you could change one thing about your novel, what would it be?

When I wrote the Spirit, I wanted to silence the Amazon critics who complained about lack of details, shallow characters, and a predictable storyline. While I managed to do that, I think I went a little overboard and made the story a little too complex. Two future books, Hope Amongst Ashes and Whisper in the Wind, will help clear up some of the confusion as they deal with the story behind some of the events mentioned in Spirit. Still, maybe I need to look at each book in the series and evaluate what I’m trying to do with them just to make sure they don’t fall into the “too complex” category as well.

What writing advice do you have for other aspiring authors?

Know yourself and your story before you venture out into the world. You’ll need this inner strength to keep true to your vision even as you are being bombarded on all sides by the naysayers, the helpful, but sometimes contradicting, advice of the experts, and your own heart and mind when things don’t happened as planned. You’ll also need to be flexible enough to learn and grow with each new experience, wise enough to filter through the BS to find the right people and knowledge to help you, and brave enough to continue when you only have yourself to lean on for support. Feeling, touching, smelling, and holding your book in your hand is worth everything you have to go through to create it.

What is your least favorite part of the publishing / writing process?

Editing. I enjoy the challenge of it, but I hate when I’m finished and still find things that I can improve. I’m not talking the story or something to do with the characters, those are usually caught by the time I’m done. No, it’s the pesky words that decide to go AWOL or come out of left field.

What are you working on now?

The second book in the series called Do You Believe In Legend? I’m not actually writing it, but rewriting to meet the standards set by Spirit. In some ways, I’m struggling with the process because Legend was the book that kept me writing for the longest time after a friend’s betrayal. Because of that, I always thought it was going to be the first book published. Then Spirit came along and turned everything on its ear. Now, I’m having to go back and rework pieces that I’ve already worked on a lot.

In Legend, Jo Mason is dealing with the aftermath of the events in Spirit. When a man from the future falls into her lap, both literally and figuratively, Jo hopes he can give her some answers to the questions she has about her life. There is only one slight problem… The trip back scrambled his brain, so he doesn’t remember much and what he does, doesn’t help, because some of the key events haven’t happened yet in his time.

What is the most difficult thing about being an author?

Having to have a job that pays the bills.

Getting personal

Do you have a pet or pets?

Two dogs. One’s a standard Poodle and the other is a Peakapoo (Pekinese Poodle). Definite size and attitude differences between the two. The larger one is a social butterfly who is very sensitive to both humans and other dogs. For a tough as he acts, when confronted, he’s a drama queen. The smaller one is always figuring things out and doesn’t let things faze her. She tends to be a barker though, and that can be hard on the nerves sometimes, especially when I’m trying to concentrate. The bigger one needs her more than she needs him.

What is your biggest fear?

I actually have two. Feeling like I wasted too much time, so my series is either going to go nowhere (meaning I’ll only be writing it for myself) or I’m going to die before I finish the fourteen core books. Then there is what happens after I die. Do I find out that heaven and hell are real? If so, have I had enough faith or done the right things to end up in the good place? If they don’t exist, then what? Do I spend eternity as dust or do I come back as something else?

What do you want your tombstone to say?

Always good-intentioned, execution was sometimes lousy.

What is something you want to accomplish before you die?

Seeing the Earth from space before I die.

If you could have any accents from anywhere in the world, what would you choose?

Scottish or Irish because of my Gaelic heritage and Australian because I just like the sound of it.

Character Interview

Go ahead and introduce yourself. Tell the audience about yourself.

My name is Joanna C. Mason. Most of my friends and family call me Jo. Everyone else calls me Captain or sir, out of respect to my rank and position. Sometimes those I know have to too. It all depends on who we are around and how much formality they expect. Anyway, I’m the Commanding Officer of United States Mounted Band Los Angeles and the Mason Seven Command, Support, Auxiliary (CSA) Team.

I have six brothers, four stepbrothers, a son, and a nephew. I’m the eldest by two minutes. Parents, grandparents, and one uncle are dead. The other uncle lives down in San Diego with his wife Rose. Most of the losses happened during my pre-teen and teen-aged years.

There isn’t that much to tell about me. Part of my career is classified and the rest, well, is just ordinary, if you consider that I’m a woman in a command position. Even though the USMB strives for equality in everything, there is still areas where a person is judged for what they are and not who they are.

Tell us where and when were you born.

I was born in 1971 at the USMBLA hospital. At the time, USMBLA was located in the same spot It had been for 121 years, in the Antelope Valley at the current site of USMB Lancaster, somewhere near Edwards AFB. When I was five, they moved the base to the Los Angeles side of the San Gabriel Mountains.

The base, like the UMSB, has a rich history. In 1850, the government crated the Los Angeles Mounted Scouts, a unit that could act as a buffer between the native and settler population to protect the new state and municipality without causing too much of a fuss. My great-great-grandfather, Lt. Colonel Robert C. Mason, assumed command of the new unit. For eleven years, the LAMS went about its business without much of a footnote in history, though they handled several conflicts.

At the beginning of the Civil War, the unit split into two, the Los Angeles Mounted Rifles and the California Mounted Band. Colonel Mason, a Union officer, transferred his staff and himself to the CMB. The unit spent a majority of the war entertaining civilians and troops, but did see some front line action during the Battle of Picacho Peak in 1862. The LAMR mustered out by the end of 1861.

Toward the end of the war, CMB performances became neutral territory where there was no Union or Confederacy for a few hours. Witnessing the power and hope of these moments, Colonel Mason petitioned his superiors to create more units like the CMB across the country. The request ended up on some secretary’s desk and would have remained there for infinity had he not passed away in July of 1865. His superiors wanted to honor him for his service, so at his funeral they declared the CMB the first unit of the United States Mounted Band and renamed the CMB’s fort USMBLA. Since then, the organization has promoted peace through music around the world.

How would you describe yourself?

A simple, but complicated, person. Simple in the fact that I’m, for the most part, what you see or hear. I seek truth and peace for all and strive to protect those I care for, even if I only know them by their name and not much else. There’s too much hurt and sadness in the world. I know, even with the power I have at my command, I can’t fix it all and that just hits me the wrong way.

I’m complicated because of the shadow I carry in my head. I was trying to help my stepfather expose the wrong doings of a controversial unit with the USMB. Things didn’t go as planned, so I ended up serving as a mindless, emotionless, and soulless operative who thought about death like normal human beings think about breathing. Not very proud of that time in my life and very lucky and grateful that I’m back to being me.

Tell us about where you grew up.

Pretty much where I was born, except on a different side of the mountains. I don’t remember much before I was five except for it being hot and uncomfortable sometimes. What I like about USMBLA’s current location is that it still sometimes gets hot, but we have a large forested section of the base where we can cool off, if need be.

USMBLA has always been my home. Sure I’ve gone off and served at other bases, but I always manage to make it back here. Though, there was one point in my life where I didn’t think I was going to, but then I wasn’t myself at the time. Will I spend the rest of my career here? Yeah, most likely. Because of the shadow in my head, I have a cap on my promotions, so I’ll end up retiring as a Captain and the CO of USMBLA when the time comes. At least I was certain that was my fate until last year. Now, I’m not so sure.

Tell everyone what it is you do when you’re not on the base?

Hmmm, well there is no real distinction between when I’m on and off duty because I’m always surrounded by friends and family. Yes, I know that unusual for a military organization, but, despite the military hardware it has, the USMB doesn’t get involved in world conflicts unless it’s asked and even then, they only do to try and bring about a resolution with the least amount of bloodshed.

Anyway, getting back to me, the only way I know which side of the blurry line I’m on is how many people my choices will affect. If it’s only one or a few, then I know I’m off-duty. So that’s why I’m always careful with what I decide.

Are you seeing anyone? 

Ha. I tried. Believe me I tried, but things with the opposite sex never work out. I have friends who are guys and I love my brothers, but the whole boyfriend / girlfriend thing has taken a backseat to my career.   I’ve met and dated half a dozen guys, but it’s usually a one night stand.

There was Patch, though. Jo’s face softens as her lips take a subtle downward turn. He personified the Southern California surfer dude stereotype. Tall, suntanned to perfection with a sculpted body, shoulder-length blonde hair, and sparkling green-blue eyes, his passion for life was as intense as the way he lived it. Does that mean I fell for him the instant I saw him? Hell, no. In fact, I thought he was an arrogant jerk who couldn’t see two feet past his nose. When I told him that, he flashed a warm smile and said I’d get used to him.

The road of getting used to Patch was a long, uneven one. Sure, his charming good looks and warm smile made liking him easy. The way he anticipated me and completed my sentences reminded me of my twin, Jim. In fact, Patch almost reached the point where he could mirror and counterbalance me as much as Jim did. He had a wild and dark side that rubbed me the wrong way, though. Unexplainable fits of rage over the stupidest things transformed him into a nasty son of a bitch without warning. We had many arguments where our intense personality fed off with each other. Since I pretty much remained the rational one, I tried to control how far our explosions went. I even left him a couple times after the more serious ones, but love blinded me when his sweet side showed up, so I always ended up going back.

It was one of those fits that killed him. I don’t remember what started it, but it was the first time he took a swing at me. Instead of defending myself like my training suggested, I ducked and he punched a hole in a nearby wall. After he withdrew his bloodied fist, he glared at me and stormed out of the room. I followed him, trying to talk sense into him, but he didn’t hear anything, except his own demons. He drove away, and two hours later, I heard about a rollover accident on I-5. When I saw pictures of the car, I recognized it almost immediately.

At least his spirit lives on in his son RJ. Jo sighs, but that’s a story for another time.

Tell us about your greatest fear.

Other than horses or losing control to my shadow? It’s not doing enough to make sure the human race survives all the crazy stupidity of the times we live in. I wish people would just realize that despite our differences in beliefs and the color of skin, we all bleed red. We also need to take better care of ourselves and the planet we live on. Not sure what’s it’s going to take to get those messages through to people’s thick skulls before it’s too late.

The phone attached to Jo’s hip buzzes. She palms it, looks its face, and then looks up.

Some Admiral’s at the gate looking to earn a few brownie points by doing a surprise inspection of my base. Bureaucrats . . . I wonder what the world would be like without them. Anyway, before I go, my friend who wrote our story asked me to give a plug for the book. It’s called Spirit of the Lone Horse and while there are horses in it, there’s a lot more going on, trust me. It’s a pretty interesting read. To me, it’s a little too detailed in some parts, but I think that’s because John, my brother who is a walking encyclopedia, got his hands on the final copy before it went to print. He’s a stickler for details and making sure that things are said just right. Me, not so much. Thanks for taking the time to listen to my ramblings. I’ll catch you later.

Contact Ani

Blog

rightthewriter.com

Facebook

Facebook.com/starsofheros

Twitter

@lonehorseend

Additional Social Media Links

Additional Links

Publisher’s Website

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Goodreads

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Elle Klass

brain-to-books-blog-tour

During July and August, I will be co-hosting Angela B. Chrysler’s Brain to Books Blog Tour, where I will share information about 60+ authors and their works.


Fast Facts:

Author: Elle Klass
Genre: Paranormal suspense
Book: Eye of the Storm Eilida’s Tragedy Volume 1 Ruthless Storm Trilogy

Official Website

Bio

Elle KlasElle was born in world in Redwood City, California and spent her childhood growing up in the fabulous San Francisco Bay Area. She is an avid San Francisco Forty Niners fan. She has raised two beautiful daughters, and currently resides in Florida. For fun she reads, spends time at the beach, travels, and enjoys time with her favorite friends, and family. She is a night-owl and spends the time writing.

Accomplishments: I spend time helping other authors using my blog http://thetroubledoyster.blogsot.com. Anything from interviews, blog tours, and book reviews.

Blurb

ETS LatestA disturbance at her neighbor’s house piques Eilida’s curiosity. What she discovers is so shocking it sends her running through the mountainous woods during a thunderstorm. She slips on the wet ground, plummets down Mount Wilde, and slams into a large boulder beside River Freedom. Eilida is transported to Lyden, where Sunshine, a receptionist at the local paper becomes engrossed in her story. The further Sunshine delves into Eilida’s life the more entangled their lives become. Paranormal events, frightening dreams, and terror filled memories draw the women together into an unthinkable web of horror.

Review

Eilida suffers from amnesia, the result of a head injury when she frantically runs away from a horrific murder scene. While Eilida recuperates in the hospital, Sunshine, a local newspaper receptionist, not only begins to have strange dreams and paranormal occurrences connected to Eilida’s past, but also takes on Eilida’s character at times. After further investigation including sneaking into Eilida’s hospital room, Sunshine concludes that she must be Eilida’s twin. Yet to confirm her theory, Sunshine has to retrace Eilida’s steps, beginning with the murder investigation. As the puzzle pieces come together slowly, the truth unfolds. But it is more surreal than one can only imagine.

Rising author Elle Klass takes the paranormal to a different level in her latest novel. While there are scenes reminiscent of the movie The Sixth Sense, Klass draws readers into the dark and disturbing world of two young women. Eilida is desperately trying to recall her memory. Concurrently, Sunshine, who appears to be quite a levelheaded gal on the cusp of marriage, begins seeing people that no one else sees—not to mention that the weather suddenly turns stormy with her apparitions. But before a scrolling marquee of “I see dead people” runs across reader’s thoughts, Klass’s plot splits into different directions—between Sunshine’s seemingly split personality and her relationship with one guy (Jay) while she prepares to marry another (Jerry), her involvement in the murder investigation, and her delving into parapsychology and hypnosis in the hope of getting answers to her personal connection with Eilida.

In the first book in The Ruthless Storm Trilogy, Klass’s sinister tale is replete with a small but well-developed cast, many of whom function as foils to enhance the principal characters, Eilida and Sunshine. Of course, included in the mix are a tight handful of antagonists who throw all sorts of twists and turns into the plot. Speaking of twists and turns, Klass’s narrative includes a unique point-of-view design. Alternating between the first-person viewpoints of Eilida and Sunshine, and a third-person unnamed narrator, Klass cuts down the confusion between the various voices and adds nuance in the process to those title changes by replacing each woman’s name with symbols: Eilida (◊◊◊◊◊) and Sunshine (☼☼☼☼☼). While all of these elements keep the plot flowing, Klass also throws in a few hot and steamy romance scenes, as well as quirky but eye-catching word plays, such as Dr. Jekal, Eilida’s chemistry professor, and Dr. Weered, Sunshine’s hypnotist.

An absolute thriller from beginning to end, Eye of the Storm: Eilida’s Tragedy closes with a cliffhanger that will keep readers anxiously waiting for its upcoming sequel, Calm Before The Storm: Evan’s Sins.

Anita Lock San Francisco Book Review

Excerpt

I pulled out a pair of store bought cutoffs with premade bleach stains and a purple tank with a built in bra out of my suitcase. The tank squeezed my boobs together and allowed a nice cleavage view. In front of the bathroom mirror I took off my makeup and pulled the pin holding up my hair. As it fell to my shoulders, it grew dark and I was no longer looking at me but Eilida. My heart moved into my throat and I staggered backwards and whispered, “Are you my ghost?”

Guardedly, I stepped back to the mirror and ran my finger across its surface. The mirror was solid and the reflection now my own. Shaking off the freakiness, I finished brushing my hair and gathered it into a high pony tail without the use of the mirror then slipped on my new flip flops. I felt comfortable and thought I looked great. I rubbed lip gloss across my lips and puckered. Not yet ready to look in the mirror again for fear of seeing the ghost, I hoped the gloss covered my lips. A sudden wetness crept between my legs as my mind lingered on Jay.

The sun was beginning its downward journey to the horizon. Trails of colors filled the sky giving me an unforgettable drive to Jay’s. He lived on the second floor of a very ordinary looking building. It was brick like most other buildings in Chesterville and a staircase supporting a shaky wrought iron hand rail brought me to his door.

There were no potted plants or chairs outside, nothing that said I love my abode, but definitely said I’m a college science nerd. I knocked and when the door was opened a young man, not Jay, greeted me.

“What’s up, E?” He put his hand in the air which I instinctively knew to high five.

I’m not sure if it would register as the oddest part of the day, since today had been riddled with peculiarity, but I knew his name and responded without thought. It was like my actions were being controlled by a hidden remote.

High fiving, I responded, “Ely,” I drug the y sound out, “Ready to get my studying on.”

Another young man picked me up from behind and twirled me through the air before setting me down in front of him. “Let me look at that hair.”

He moved his head side to side and placed his hand in front of his mouth and then back to his side and responded, “It’s not really you. It hides that inner gloom you wear so well.”

Inner gloom, that’s what would best describe what I was quickly finding out about Eilida. “Evie, Evie, Evie can’t a girl try something new?” I asked. Knowing his name came as no surprise either.

Jay stepped into the room wearing nothing but a towel that hung below his waist and threatened to fall off baring the beauty underneath. His abs were chiseled which I hadn’t noticed the other night. I bounded towards him and jumped, curling my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. Still the towel lingered. He returned my affection with a kiss and put me down grabbing my arm as he pulled me towards the bedroom. Unable to control myself I pulled the towel off and it dropped to the floor.

With a beguiling look of surprise, he hoisted me over his shoulder like a gunny sack and said, “That’s it! Look what you’ve done,” and closed the door behind us. Plopping me onto the bed he drove himself into me hard and passionately.

We studied most of the night away and took a short break long enough to go to Taco Express for quesadillas and ultimate tacos loaded with cheese, peppers, beef, onions, sour cream and possibly a few other ingredients.

I felt a type of kinship towards Ely and Evie which put me in a quandary and I asked myself, does Eilida have brothers or close cousins here? I didn’t think so, as they made no mention of any family that may link us, but it is a small town.

A bright light lurked behind the curtains and I pulled a pillow over my head realizing then that I was burrowed into the crook of Jay’s arm. Instead of gathering my clothes and leaving, I dragged the covers over my head and went back to sleep.

Sometime later the smell of coffee aroused my olfactory sensors. The scent brought back memories and I envisioned a young raven haired woman holding a small baby in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. Softly she placed the coffee onto a table while holding the baby up to the window. They were looking outside watching two young boys and a man. The man had no shirt on and his skin was a deep shade of brown. His torso bearing carved muscles. Beyond them was a vast ocean. Slowly the figures faded and I knew I had remembered something important. A past that grappled with my present and for that short time I was Eilida.

I turned to find Jay missing. I jolted out of his bed with the sudden revelation and feeling of crushing loneliness and wandered to the living room where I found Jay and Evie talking. Scents of pancakes, eggs and bacon wafted through the air, teasing my taste buds. I knew without a doubt, that Ely was cooking breakfast.

“You’re still here?” questioned Evie in a mocking tone. It had been the first time ever that I spent the night in bed with Jay. Eilida’s first time… A curious instinct that I knew that tidbit of information.

“Yes, I am. Is that so strange to you?” I asked.

He laughed and looked at Jay, “I think she’s got a thing for you.”

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Fran Clark

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During July and August, I will be co-hosting Angela B. Chrysler’s Brain to Books Blog Tour, where I will share information about 60+ authors and their works.


Fast Facts:

Author: Frank Clark
Genre: Women’s/General Fiction
Book: Holding Paradise

Official Site

Bio

Fran ClarkFran Clark is a professional singer-songwriter and vocal coach from West London. In April 2014 her first novel, Holding Paradise, was published by Indigo Dreams Publishing. In 2014, Fran also passed a full time Creative Writing MA with Distinction at Brunel University while completing her second novel, When Skies Are Grey.

Currently she is a ghost writer of steamy romance novellas and continues to hone her writing skills as a member of a writer’s critique group. Fran is usually found developing story ideas for prose and songs when not staring out of her window and imagining her life as a musical.

Many of her thoughts and scribblings can be found here: Writing Women’s Fiction

Blurb

Holding ParadiseOn a grey and miserable morning in 2008 London businesswoman, Angelica Ford, boards a plane and flies off to the blues and greens of her mother’s island in the Caribbean. Angelica is desperate. She is looking for a way to save her marriage and win back her daughter. A web of lies has torn a hole into her seemingly perfect world and she is convinced that only her mother, Josephine Dennis, can help her turn her life around.

Josephine Dennis arrived in England by ship on a cold winter’s morning as a young mother joining her husband. She weathers a lifetime of secrets and betrayal as she raises her family in 1960s London. A matriarch with strong family values, she told her children colourful stories to guide them through life. It is the wisdom of one of these stories that Angelica seeks. Josephine has one last story to tell – the story that could change both of their lives.

 

Review

Holding Paradise is one of the most powerful and heartwrenching novels I’ve read lately. It covers various generations of women originally from the Caribbean who immigrate to London in the 1950s. ‘My mother’s story has taught me how strong women can be’. You must read this novel to meet Josephine, born on a sunny island, displaced to a rainy metropolis, who struggles bravely to make a living and keep her family together through thick and thin. The events portrayed are sad, moving, and infuriating, as deplorable secrets are gradually unveiled. It’s a well-deserved tribute to past generations, which also holds the promise of ‘paradise’ for the future if we are able to learn from our own and others’ mistakes, forgive, and understand. This is not a quick, easy read, nevertheless its pages will lead you on a satisfying and well written voyage, well worth taking. – Review written by Luccia Gray on Amazon

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zMgXbD51wQk

Excerpt

I walked into her room and saw, as usual, piles of clothes on the floor but resisted the urge to pick them up. Instead I dumped her clean clothes on the bed. Just as I did so, I heard her mobile go off. It made me jump. I was used to the ring tone but didn’t expect to hear it. It was impulse that made me grab it and press the little green telephone symbol. Before I could say ‘hello Eva’s phone’ I heard Saffron’s voice.

‘Bitch, what do mean you’ve been having sex with someone in your family? You can’t send me emails like that and not expect me to call you right away. Who is it?’ I pressed the red telephone symbol straight away and threw Eva’s phone on the bed. I stood there staring at it. A few seconds later it rang again. I picked it up but this time I was ready. I saw the ‘Saffron calling’ sign as I gathered my thoughts.

‘Hello,’ I said.

‘Who’s that?’ Saffron sounded worried.

‘Oh Saffron. Did you just call? I picked up Eva’s phone but I couldn’t hear anyone so I hung up.’

‘Mrs Ford. You’ve got Eva’s phone?’

‘Yes, she must have forgotten it when she went off to Surrey with Luke. Shall I tell her you called?’

‘Er, yes please. So you didn’t hear me talking when you picked up?’

‘No. I don’t know what happened there. That’s technology for you.’ I laughed. A fake laugh. I hoped Saffron wouldn’t see through it. ‘Any message?’

‘Oh no, that’s okay Mrs Ford. I’ll just try her again this evening. Will she be back then?’

‘Yes, she should be. Bye then Saffron.’

‘Bye.’

I sat heavily on the bed. The pile of clothes I’d just put there slipped garment by garment onto the floor in slow motion until the last few t-shirts flopped quietly onto the jeans in real time. I got up quickly. I still had Eva’s phone in my hand. Why did I answer that call? No. I had to answer that call. The biggest secret that Eva could ever have kept from me, I had discovered by answering that call. But was Saffron serious? Why would she say it if it wasn’t true? My head was spinning. If it were true then who the hell could this family member be?

 Connect with Fran

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Linda Dobinson

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During July and August, I will be co-hosting Angela B. Chrysler’s Brain to Books Blog Tour, where I will share information about 60+ authors and their works.


Fast Facts

Author: Linda Dobinson
Genre: Poetry
Book: Encounter

Official Site

Bio

Linda DobinsonI was born in Croydon, England but grew up in Barbados. Endless sunshine and never far from the beach – I was spoilt. As an only child I quickly learned to use my imagination to amuse myself.When I was seventeen we returned to England. The fast pace of London life was exciting, the shops were fantastic, the cold – not so good. Although I did not like the cold and never will I loved the changing seasons. In summer I love the long evenings but equally in winter I love the long nights. Spring means ‘goodbye cold’ while the glorious colours of autumn are inspiring.

I love reading, writing poetry, chocolate, cats, shopping, F1, and watching way too much TV – not necessarily in that order. I am teetotal and a non-smoker, does that make me two shades of boring?

As a reader I am a big fan of classics and my top three are ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen, ‘Queen Lucia’ by E.F. Benson, and ‘Jane Eyre’ by Charlotte Bronte. As for poetry, my favourite poems are ‘The Lady of Shallott’ by Tennyson and ‘Kubla Khan’ by Coleridge.

I have been married and divorced twice so as the song says – ‘I have looked at love from both sides now’. Good or bad our experiences make us who we are.

I started writing poetry when I was studying for a BA degree with The Open University. I joined The Open University Poetry Society and it was the many positive comments from fellow members that encouraged me to submit work to poetry publications. I have had poems appear in ‘Decanto’, ‘Time Haiku’, ‘Poetic Licence’, ‘Candelabrum’, ‘Krax’ and ‘Poetry Now’ to name a few. As a writer I draw on my experience but my main inspiration is nature. Having said that anything can grab my imagination, for example, a moment between two characters in my favourite TV show ‘The 100’ sparked a poem.

I am currently working on my third book.

Author Accomplishments

I have had poems appear in the following poetry magazines – Decanto, Time Haiku, Poetic Licence, Candelabrum, Krax, and Poetry Now. I have been included in many anthologies including – Southern England 2008 and South & South West England 2009.

Book Blurb for Encounter

 ‘‘Insightful’’, ‘‘beautiful’’ and ‘‘wonderful’’ have been used to describe Encounter on Goodreads.com and Amazon.co.uk.

EncounterEncounter is a collection of poems written mostly in free verse but with some traditional poetic forms included. The poems are divided into three themes – love, nature and life, but of course, themes overlap.

Linda has experienced all sides of love – the joy it brings, the pain when it goes wrong, unrequited and learning to move on. Her aim is to show that it really is possible to overcome heartbreak and start again with hope and confidence. She is constantly inspired by nature and she invites you to share with her the thrill of a new spring, mercurial summer, the glorious colours of autumn and the frozen wonders of winter.

Excerpt

Journeys On The 7.20

If I were the sun

and you were the moon

I would shine my light

on your sweet face

and you would feel my warmth.

 

If I were the sun

and you were the moon

no longer would I stand still

your love would make me spin.

 

If I were the sun

and you were the moon

no rain would ever fall on us

the way it does on little Earth.

 

If I were the sun

and you were the moon

nothing on Earth could keep us apart,

not even the Earth itself.

 

If I were the sun

and you were the moon

we could roam the universe

and the un-crossed stars

would light up our path.

 

If I were the sun and you were the moon.

 

But I am not the sun

and you are not the moon.

We are just two people

in separate orbits.

Our worlds touch daily but softly,

so softly that you do not feel it.

 

I am not the sun

and you are not the moon.

So I will have to dream

starry dreams of our journey

through the universe

and all the things

we would see and feel

if I were the sun

and you were the moon.

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Christina McMullen

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During July and August, I will be co-hosting Angela B. Chrysler’s Brain to Books Blog Tour, where I will share information about 60+ authors and their works.


Fast Facts:

Author: Christina McMullen
Genre: Sci-fi, Urban Fantasy, Humor, Young Adult
Book: Past Life Strife from Rise of the Discordant series

Official Site

Bio:

Christina McMullenChristina McMullen is a science fiction and fantasy author who fuels her imagination with coffee and the occasional cupcake. She currently resides in Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband and three dogs. When she isn’t writing, Christina enjoys travel, vegan cooking, modern and classical art, and of course, reading.

Blurb:

Past Life StrifeBlackbird may seem like any other small Midwestern town, but the bland and unremarkable façade hides a dark and deadly secret. The Discordant, creatures from the realm of Chaos, lurk in the shadows, preying upon the souls of Blackbird’s unsuspecting residents.

As an Observer, Seth is tasked with identifying the lost before they fall victim to the Discordant. An unenviable job under normal circumstances, but the situation takes a turn for the worse when Blackbird’s Guardian calls it quits and no new Guardian is available to take her place. Instead, Seth now finds himself partnered with Desmond, a powerful and intimidating Warrior, who worries that Seth will give in to the lure of Chaos. Desmond’s fears are all but validated when a magical disturbance draws even more Discordant to the area. Among them is Amara, a dangerous and nearly invincible femme fatale from Seth’s past.

To stop her, Seth must sacrifice his own soul or put all of his faith in a psychic’s vague prediction. But without a Guardian, both the Observer and Warrior are at a disadvantage and time is running out.

Excerpt from Past Life Strife

Chapter 4

Demons, Drinks, & Dames

Okay, I gotta admit, but don’t you dare tell nobody, bartending ain’t half bad. I kinda got a kick outta being the guy with the magic happy juice. All that melancholy and woe is me stuff that knocked me over when I first showed up was beginning to fade. In its place? Temporary happiness, liquid courage, and the promise of all kinds of bad decisions and poor judgment calls in the makin’. I could seriously get down with this. Chaos is chaos and I ain’t picky.

Quote 1Of course, there was all this cleanin’ and crap that I wasn’t too fond of. Again, I cursed Desmond for binding me. Well, I verbally cursed him, seein’ as he left me just enough bippity to keep the humans from knowin’ my true form, but no boppity boo for anythin’ else. With my magic, I wouldn’t’ve had to worry about the mundane stuff like washin’ glasses, or running outta bottles, or changing out kegs. But since I didn’t have it, I had to run my butt off and keep the place from fallin’ into chaos. Oh, the irony!

All this work weren’t leavin’ me with a lot of time to chat up the ladies neither. I mean, come on, that’s the number one perk of this crummy job, ain’t it? Even when I wasn’t runnin’ my tookus off and tryin’ to keep up with the amount of cheap domestic these cretins guzzled, it was slim pickins for a man of my refined tastes. Seemed to me like this town’s primary export was sausage, if ya get my meaning. But just when I started given up all hopes of seein’ some dames, I started believin’ in miracles ‘cuz these three smokin’ babes walked in. Now, I ain’t gonna lie, I’ve seen some hotties in my day. I mean, come on, I been working Hollywood since the invention of the talkie. But these three… Wowzers! All soft curves, long legs, and wavy hair, decked out in these gauzy little dresses that showed way too much sk-

Aw crap.

Just as I started to smooth down my shirt and ratchet my charm up to eleven, the ugly truth hit me. Three women (note: that’s a magical number), hotter than any I seen in a good long time, walk into a place like this and no one bats an eye? No one? I took an experimental sniff, hopin’ I was wrong, and nearly gagged. Earth magic. The scent of moss, herbs, dirt, and all that other hocus pocus-y crap invaded my nostrils. These weren’t no ladies. These broads was witches, and they was headed right for me.

Quote 2“Good evening, ladies,” I said, puffin’ out my chest and plasterin’ a big ol’ grin on my mug. Don’t ever let it be said that I don’t have grace under pressure, ‘cuz I’m the king of playin’ it cool. “What can I get started for yous dolls?”

“You’re not fooling anyone with that pathetic glamour, demon,” said the blonde one. She was definitely the leader. I could tell this because of the way the other two hung back, glarin’ at me like a couple of guard dogs waitin’ for the order to sic ’em. “Where’s Seth?” she asked, pointin’ a finger at me like she was gonna blast me with a bolt of lightning. I wasn’t worried though. Earth witches can’t do that. Least, I don’t think they can.

“Who’s Seth?”

“Don’t play games with us,” she warned, letting the stink of her magic increase until I had to step back. “You know what we are and you know what we will do if you try anything stupid.”

“Jeez Louise! Back off already!” I managed to choke as I took in another toxic mouthful of sage and lavender. Though I don’t know if that was the magic or her poor choice of perfume. “Yeah, I know what yous are. Ain’t no need for the whole death by aromatherapy thing ya got goin’, okay?”

Alright, dumb move, I admit it. Instead of backing off, she let loose with another round of choke the demon. I swear, if I never smell patchouli again in my life, it’ll be too soon.

“That was just a warning,” she hissed.

“Oh for the love of cheap tricks and cheaper booze, calm down, lady! If you can lay off your own ego for a moment, you’ll notice that I ain’t even tryin’ to attack you. Even if I wanted to, I can’t do jack squat.”

Quote 3“He’s right, Louise,” said the one on the left, a tiny little brunette with these ginormous ta-tas that she musta put some kind of a spell on, ‘cuz I couldn’t take my eyes off ‘em. “His magic has been bound.”

“Uh huh. Desmond bound me before he took off after the vamp. Wait a second.” I tore my eyes from the scenery and turned back to blondie. “Is your name really Louise?” That was actually kinda funny.

“Shut up!” maybe Louise snapped, tilting her head to the side, which made her look a lot like a dog who just heard his favorite squeaky toy. “Something isn’t right here.”

Yeah, no joke, blondie. Sheesh. I could’ve told you that without usin’ a drop of magic. She turned to the other two.

“What is that? What do you feel?”

“Something… we’re supposed to forget,” the redheaded one said, screwing up her face in concentration. “Very powerful magic.”

Order magic,” the brunette whispered.

Uh oh. See, here’s the thing about witches. All mystics, really. They can see things that most folks can’t. Like how these three knew I was a demon. Now, with some of ‘em, this works in our favor. It’s easier to get a lost soul to come on over to our side if they already know there’s more to life than meets the eye. But with these three, though, I had a bad feeling they was a little too cozy with the local Order and I didn’t wanna be no part of that.

Connect with Christina

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On August 23rd, Past Life Strife (eBook) will be free. The following titles in the series, Splitsville and You Wish, will be on sale for just $0.99 for the entire following week. For more details, bookmark the page www.freebookblast.com

Learn more about Christina

Tell us a little about yourself.

What can I say about me? I’m a terribly boring individual. No really. I am the quintessential author hermit. I don’t own a television and were it not for the internet, I’d live in a cultural vacuum. I’ve always written, but you know, all authors say that, don’t they? There’s a reason for that. It’s because it’s true. Even as a wee child with a still developing imagination, I enjoyed creating my own fantasy worlds. What do I do when I’m not writing? Reading, mostly, but every so often, I come out of my crabby author shell and venture out into the real world. Out there, I tend to enjoy visiting art museums and finding new and interesting places to explore with my husband.

 Is this your first book?

No, Past Life Strife is the seventh book I’ve written and the first book in my second set of series books. All total, I have nine books available with the tenth coming out hopefully around Halloween.

What genre is it and what is it about?

The series, Rise of the Discordant, is urban fantasy, but there is an element of humor throughout.

What inspired you to write this book?

I’ve always wanted to write something in the same vein as Robert Asprin’s satirical ‘Myth’ series, but rather than take potshots at sword and sorcery, I felt it would be more fun to weave the humor into a genre that I love. I do acknowledge and even poke fun at some of the more popular urban fantasy tropes, but I’ve attempted to stay away from the low hanging fruit by keeping the story from turning into a paranormal romance. The series is actually made up of bits and pieces of other short stories that I’ve written, dating back to as early as 1998.

 How did you come up with the title of your book or series?

I wanted all of the book titles in this series to be somewhat whimsical and quirky as a way to convey the humor aspect. As for the series name, Rise of the Discordant, well, that’s pretty much what the series is about. The Discordant are creatures of Chaos who are coming to our world in droves, looking to upset the balance of Order and takeover. This series revolves around the small Midwestern town that has become the unfortunate epicenter of this war.

Tell us a little bit about your cover art. Who designed it? Why did you go with that particular image/artwork?

I am my own cover artist. The painting on the cover was originally something I knocked out on a scrap of cardstock after taking a casual painting class with my husband for our anniversary. With a little bit of computer doctoring, I had something I liked. I’ve tried to continue with the same theme for the rest of the series, keeping the color and simple artistic elements the same.

If you could cast your characters in the Hollywood adaptation of your book, who would play your characters?

Oh dear! For this book, that’s a toughie. I was asked to do this on another and the problem I have is that I live under a rock. Bogie at least is easy because while I was giving form to the character, I happened to be driving one day and saw a billboard advertising Howie Mandel’s standup performance at a nearby venue. From that day forward, Bogie was Howie Mandel. I even named his great uncle Howie in his honor. Now for the rest of the crew:

Seth-who’s that blonde guy everyone thinks is so pretty? (*does a quick Google search*) Ah, yes! Ryan Gosling. He’ll be my overworked and overstressed Observer.

Desmond- Given that Desmond is a Warrior and supposed to be huge, the easy answer would be Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson, however, I think he’s kind of overused for the tough guy. Instead, I’m going with Don Cheadle because I think he can pull off the straight man routine while also giving depth to some of the rare serious moments that do indeed get pretty serious.

The witches- This is also tough because I don’t know enough about young actors, but for Donna, I am going to take what might be a very unpopular stance and go with Lindsay Lohan. I don’t much pay attention to tabloids, but I need a redhead who can pull off both ‘sexy-witch’ and ‘super scary-tomboy.’ Louise might have to be a slightly older power player. I’m thinking Reese Witherspoon. She can pull off bossy like a… well, like a boss. And this just leaves Betty. You know there aren’t many brunette actresses out there. I’m giving this role to Kristen Stewart. She’ll be happy to know there is no lip biting required.

The Angel is simple: Tilda Swinton, nothing more really needs to be said on that subject.

And finally for my succubus baddie, Amara, I’m going with a Gothed out Mila Kunis because, really, who else is there?

Do you plot out your story lines or do you write on the seat of your pants? 

A little of both. I’ll write an outline, but that’s mostly to get the idea out of my head and onto paper before I forget it. By the time I finish my first draft, I’ve usually written something so completely different that the outline can be saved for another day.

Is there a certain type of scene that’s harder for you to write than others? 

Love scenes. Definitely. I don’t do graphic and if I include sex at all, it’s mostly implied. Even romantic scenes involving kissing are difficult. There’s only so many ways one’s heart can flutter or have their legs turn to jelly.

Who is your favorite character from your book and why? How about your least favorite character? What makes them less appealing to you?

Bogie is by far my favorite character in this series. What’s not to love about a wisecracking lesser Demon with a heart of gold and atrocious grammar? I don’t actually have a least favorite in this series. So far, *knock on wood*, no one has given me fits.

What book do you wish you could have written?

My own first series, The Eyes of The Sun, but a couple of years earlier, while vampires were still the rage and the ebook market was brand new.

Do you read your reviews?  

Read? Yes, absolutely. Reviews can offer a lot of critical feedback on what we’re doing right as well as wrong. Respond? Absolutely not. Even though I just said authors can learn from reviews, ultimately, they are a way for readers to tell other readers what they liked and disliked. I offer my email address at the back of every book. If someone wants to talk to me directly about what they did or didn’t like, they have an open avenue. As for how to deal with bad reviews, that’s simple. Everyone gets bad reviews. Even the top dogs who are making millions of dollars can’t please everyone. You can’t please everyone either. Sure, it may feel like a gut punch when you see a low rating or hurtful words about your life’s work, but trust me, that feeling is temporary. You’ll get over it before you even get your next glowing review.

And now…for the fun of it…

Do you have a pet or pets?

I have three delightful mutts who keep me safe from such daily dangers as the mailman, squirrels, and the neighborhood cats.

If you were a super hero, what would your name be? What costume would you wear?

I would be Future Girl. My costume would be a retro silver space suit complete with white go-go boots and a flared miniskirt. I’d wear my hair in a very futuristic modified beehive/flip and layer on the blue eyeshadow and white eyeliner. I’d carry a shiny silver ray gun and my sidekick would be a ten foot tall robot named Scoot who shoots lasers from his eyes. We would fly around during battles with our personal jetpacks, but for every day transport, we’d use our flying sedan.

Where is one place you want to visit that you haven’t been before?

Just one? That’s very tough. I’ve been lucky enough to have traveled to many wonderful places that I would not mind going again, but as for some place I’ve not yet been, I think I’d like to see Tokyo. It’s very hard for me to wrap my head around a city that is actually larger and denser than New York.

Do you recall your dreams? Do you have any recurring dreams/nightmares?

I don’t really have any reoccurring dreams, but I still today, many decades later, remember a traumatizing dream I had in kindergarten. It involved having to go back to school after dark while everyone was gone because I had left some important papers there. The cast of Sesame Street, not just the Muppets, but the humans as well, were fading in and out from the walls to give me lessons in my ABCs and numbers.

Is there one person past or present you would meet and why?

I would love to be able to go back just a few years ago and tell Octavia Butler how much of an inspiration she is to me for pushing the boundaries of quality sci-fi with a conscience and thank her for her role in breaking down both gender and racial barriers that still want to persist in the genre today.

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Ariel Marie

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During July and August, I will be co-hosting Angela B. Chrysler’s Brain to Books Blog Tour, where I will share information about 60+ authors and their works.


Fast Facts:

Author: Ariel Marie
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Book: Power of the Fae from The Mirrored Prophecy

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Bio

Ariel MarieAriel Marie has always loved reading romance novels in her free time. She loves getting lost in a good book. She reads all genres but paranormal romance is her favorite. She loves everything about the Fae, Shifters, and Witches! And every other supernatural too! One day leaving the hospital after a busy shift she was hit with an idea for a story. The story stayed in her mind for a couple of weeks. She wondered if she could write it. Not too long after that, she read a quote online that said, “write the book you would want to read” and the Mirrored Prophecy series was born!

She married her high school sweetheart. Together, they are raising three beautiful children. When she’s not writing or reading, she loves spending time with her husband and three munchkins.  She loves cooking and baking! She’s always trying new recipes! If you have a good recipe, send it to her! She just might try it!

Author Accomplishments

Outside of writing, Ariel is a registered nurse specializing in kidney/pancreas transplant. She walked for the National Kidney Foundation to raise awareness for kidney disease.

Blurb

Power of the FaeThe Ancients spoke of a Mirrored Prophecy that would determine the future. One version of the prophecy spoke of a small female of mixed heritage giving birth to a child that will save mankind. The other side of the prophecy spoke of the female’s child being the demise of the world.

The Princess of the Light Fae, Arlina Waldmar, may be small but she is deadly. She is a member of the elite Guardians of the Fae. She has been given the assignment of going to the human realm to investigate the vanishing supernaturals.

Colin MacKenzie, Alpha wolf, has determined that finding a mate is not in his future. His people are vanishing. He will need to lead his Legion, defenders of werewolves to find them. His wolf has recognized a certain dark haired Faery Princess to be his mate, but he refuses to claim her.

There is an evil set on destroying the Human and Faery realms. Colin and Arlina must work together to defeat this evil. His thoughts are constantly on Arlina. Arlina knows there is no fighting the attraction between them. Can she convince him to give them a chance before it’s too late?

Review

Check out the book review here!

*I was given a copy of this book by Stephanie’s Book Reports in exchange for an honest review.

5 stars for Power of the Fae by Ariel Marie!! This is the first book in The Mirrored Prophecy series, and it is a great read!!

Arlina Waldmar is part Fae and part human. She is the Princess of the Light Fae and a deadly member of the Guardians of the Fae. When many different types of supernatural beings go missing, she is sent to the human realm to investigate all of the mysterious disappearances. She soon learns of a prophecy that the ancient supernaturals spoke of called The Mirrored Prophecy. The prophecy had two different versions. One spoke of a small, dark haired female of mixed heritage who would give birth to a child who would save mankind. The other version spoke of this same child bringing the demise of the world. To say that she is shocked to learn that she is the female spoken about in the prophecy would be a huge understatement.

Colin Mackenzie is the alpha wolf of the Diamond pack. He has come to the conclusion that finding a mate is just not in his future. He is too busy leading and protecting his pack to even think about having a relationship. Imagine his surprise when he meets the Princess of the Light Fae, and his wolf recognizes her as his mate. Although is wolf continues to recognize her as his mate, Colin refuses to claim her. Arlina can’t stop thinking about Colin, so she decides to do everything within her power to convince him to give her a chance.

As Colin and Arlina work together to solve the mysterious disappearances that are taking place, they grow closer and closer. When they discover that an evil force is set on destroying both the human and faery realms, they must work together to save everyone and everything that they know and love.

This story is packed full of suspense and danger. Even though it ends in a cliff hanger, it is so worth reading. If you are looking for a story to lose yourself in, this is the book for you! One click it now!!

Excerpt

Prologue

10 Years ago…

Snuggling down further in my bed, I turn over trying to get more comfortable. I
punch my pillow until it’s just right. Suddenly a loud rumble could be heard followed by
the palace alarms screaming, alerting everyone of an emergency! My eyes pop open.
What the heck is that?

I jump from my bed tossing my shoes on. Grabbing my new katana that was just
given to me on my fifteenth birthday last week, I strap it to my back and head out into the
hallway. There are a few maids and a guard running down the hallway. I look around
and spot my personal maid Tillie running towards me.

“Tillie!” I run over to meet her. “What is going on?”

“What are you doing out of your room? The palace is under attack! Let’s get the
hell out of here!” Tillie shouts while trying to drag me down the hallway with her. I pull
back in the opposite direction trying to go down the front hallway stairs.

“No! I must find my parents and brother!” I run down the stairs to the main hallway
with Tillie on my heels.

“Are you crazy?” she yells. I ignore her and keep going. Palace guards are running
towards the front door while a few are directing people to the back of the building. The
alarm is still blaring, signifying that the palace is under attack. This doesn’t seem like the
drills they make us practice. I follow behind the guards sensing that they are heading in
the direction of my father.

“Arlina, no! You cannot go that way! You know we are supposed to take you to the
escape tunnel if we are under attack! That’s a standing order from your father!” Tillie
yells over all of the noise as she follows me. “He’ll kill me if he sees you out here! Your
father would not want you in the middle of this!”

“I don’t care! I’m not leaving without my family! I can help! I’ve been training.”
The thought that my family could be in danger drives me to hunt them down. I am a
Waldmar, dammit! We don’t run from a fight! The last guard makes a sharp right at the
end of the hallway and I follow.

As I round the corner, I see my father and brother speaking with a few
Guardians and The Royal Guard of the palace. My father Vamir Waldmar, Prince of the
Light Fae, stands tall with his long blond hair in one single braid running down his back.
My brother Keegan stands next to my father. He is the spitting image of my father. My
mother always jokes around that she wasn’t sure who carried my brother, her or my
father. My brother’s hair is the same. He stands about two inches taller than my father at
six foot four inches. Both of them are decked out in the normal Guardian tactical gear.
My father is barking orders to the Royal Guards and the Guardians that are surrounding
him. I yell my brother’s name as I run towards them.

“Keegan!” His eyes narrow as they lock on me. His eyes are cold as he stares into
mine. I just ignore his infamous death stare. “Where’s mom?”

“Lina, what the hell are you doing here?” He ignores my question. “You
know what you are supposed to do if we are under attack! This is not a drill, this is for
real!” He turns to Tillie. “Tillie, you know the protocol when the alarm sounds! Get her
out of here now!”

“No, I’ve been training! I can help! I don’t want to leave you!” I stress to him.

We don’t leave family behind, ever! I’m not leaving without them. I’m determined to try
to help my family defend our home. I have been enduring self-defense, combat and
weapons training for a year now. It is required that all members of the royal family be
able to defend themselves and become proficient with a weapon. All of my trainers have
said that I have excelled at physical combat and the use of a sword, hence, my father
buying me a katana for my birthday. My dream is to one day become a member of the
elite Guardians with my brother.

“Lina, you’re fifteen, you are not fighting now! This is real, not one of those
simulations!” he shouts at me. My dad looks over at me, his face clouded with anger.
There’s no point in arguing, even if Keegan lets me stay, my father will not. My father’s
rage when released is unmatched by anyone. Keegan flags down a Royal Guard.
“Go to the rendezvous point. Wait for us there, we’ll get mom and meet you!”

He turns to the guard. “You are to take the Princess and her maid Tillie to the evacuation
tunnels. I don’t care if you have to put her over your shoulder! You are to take Princess
Arlina to the evacuation point at the South Hills marina! She better be there when I get
there!” he barks to the guard, his cold eyes drilling holes through the guard. The guard,
visibly shaken, salutes my brother with a “Yes sir!”.

“Kee, where is mom? Don’t make me leave you! I want to stay!” I try
fighting the guard who is dragging me away. The guard shifts me around in front of him,
pushing me down another hallway away from my brother and father.

“We’re going to get her. She’s in her tower, now go!” The east tower is a tall,
glass encased tower that my father added to the palace for my mother after they were
married. In the tower is her spell room where she is able to practice her witchcraft. My
father leads the Guardians and the Royal Guard out the front door with their weapons
drawn. There is another rumble then a loud explosion that shatters the glass of all the
windows and rattles the whole palace. We’re all thrown to the floor. I break away from
the guard and Tillie, running down the hallway towards the front door.

“No!” I scream as I look to the east and see the glass tower encased in flames.

The smoke pours out of the hole in the roof into the night sky. The smoke resembles
white clouds against the dark midnight sky. My legs give out causing me to fall to my
knees as I scream for my mother. If she was in her beloved tower, there is no way that
she could have survived that massive explosion.

Everywhere I look, Guardians and the Royal Guards have engaged in
fighting. Several other parts of the palace are on fire releasing more thick smoke making
it even more difficult to see. Everything is moving in slow motion. Looking around, I see
bodies lying around on the ground. The smoke is becoming a thick fog. I can’t tell who
is attacking us through all the smoke and the cover of the night.

Through the foggy haze I can see dark creatures with large wingspans flying
through the sky. All around me, I hear screams and the sound of swords clashing in the
air. To my left, I see Viktor, a seasoned Guardian, in the midst of battle with a grotesque
creature. He swiftly swings his sword and I watch the head of the enemy fall to the
ground and roll away. The body stands stunned before collapsing to the ground. It is a
dark muscular body with wings. Never before have I laid eyes on such a creature. The
body begins to disintegrate slowly right before my eyes. I blink my eyes a few times,
praying that my eyes are playing tricks on me.

My father and brother along with the Guardians and Royal Guards have
engaged in fighting these creatures that are invading our land and attacking our home.
These creatures are not of the Fae. The creatures skin ranges from brown to midnight
black, some are winged and some are not. They have large claws and blood tinged eyes
with large horns coming out of their heads. Faery is home to plenty of different types of
creatures but none that look like these invaders. Even the Dark Fae doesn’t have any
beings that resemble these.

What is going on? A part of the decimated building begins to fall to the ground.

Tears roll down my face, making it harder to see with all the smoke surrounding me. I’m
grabbed from behind by the palace guard and dragged away, screaming, crying and
twisting my body trying to get free. As I watch, my brother and father run into the
thickest part of the dark fog, there is another explosion behind us and everything goes
black.

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