Showing posts with label Bewitching Book Tours. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bewitching Book Tours. Show all posts

Friday, April 29, 2016

Payable on Death Blog Tour


Payable On Death
The Jax Rhodes Series
Book One
Rachel Rawlings

Print Length: 207 pages

Publication Date: April 5, 2016

ASIN: B01C1U2TZ0

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: R Squared Publishing

Cover Artist: Najla Qamber Designs

Book Description:

A deal with the Devil. Demons haunting your every step. When an Angel offers you the chance to redeem yourself, you take it. Because eternal damnation isn't all it's cracked up to be.

But the Devil always gets his due.

On the streets of Baltimore redemption is..... Payable On Death.


Amazon      BN    Kobo      Itunes

 Welcome to Charm City
Take a tour of Jax’s Baltimore
Baltimore has been in the spotlight in recent years, and not in the way its residents would like. Listed as the nineteenth most dangerous place in the world, the city has certainly seen better but days. But, even amidst the drugs and violence that have over taken certain neighborhoods the people of Baltimore have a deep rooted love for their city. When you wipe away the grit and grime, it’s not hard to see why. From the birthplace of famed baseball player Babe Ruth to the home of beloved author and poet Edgar Allan Poe, Baltimore’s history is as unique and interesting as the people who live there today. With an accent unique to the nine districts that make up the city, Baltimore and its residents still have a lot to offer.
The idea for Payable On Death came to me when I was driving through the city. It seemed only fitting for it to be Jax’s home town. Let’s take a tour of Jax’s favorite places, all of which really do exist in Baltimore and see why despite its darker side Charm City is really a diamond in the rough. A lot like our heroine, Jax Rhoades.
Welcome to Bal’more, Hon.




                     
Early in the book, Jax stops at one of her favorite restaurants, Blue Moon CafĂ©- known for delicious breakfast treats like their cinnamon rolls and Cap’n Crunch French toast, it’s not hard to see why she’d go there for carb laden comfort.



Baltimore Boxing Club, Jax’s refuge from the reality of selling her soul and being followed by demons is as full of prize fighters and trainers in real life as it is in Payable On Death.


With a name like Bad Decisions, was there really anywhere else a girl who sold her soul could work?
   
          
Mount Royal Tavern plays a huge role in our story as a meeting place for Demons and Angels. More than one deal has been struck beneath its Sistine Chapel replica ceiling. I couldn’t think of a better setting!


Thanks for joining me on a tour of Jax’s Baltimore. Known in the late eighties and early nineties as the City That Reads, that moniker still holds today. Baltimore is home to one of the largest free book festivals in the country. Whether you’re in town for Baltimore Book Festival or to see any number of its tourist attractions, why not check out some of these local favorites. They’re well worth the trip!


From left to right authors Ginger Sharp, Rachel Rawlings, Kelly Harmon and Gladys of Nerd Girl at Baltimore Book Festival.

 Review:

From the first page I was hooked. The desciptions of the city, from the crime to the streets and the pain of someone who knows the rough side of family life, this book grabbed me. I wanted to scream with Jacqui when she was faced with the decision to go with the oh so perfect stranger on the chance she could save her mother from the monster who was her husband. Wow.

The cover also struck me, reminding so much of the Diana Rowland zombie books-so of course I was gonna give this one a shot before the first word hit my eyeballs. 

5/5 For sheer awesome. Bring it on...




About the Author:

Rachel Rawlings was born and raised in the Baltimore Metropolitan area. Her family, originally from Rhode Island, spent summers in New England sparking her fascination with Salem, MA. She has been writing fictional stories and poems since middle school, but it wasn't until 2009 that she found the inspiration to create her heroine Maurin Kincaide and complete her first full length novel, The Morrigna.

When she isn't writing, Rachel can often be found with her nose buried in a good book. An avid reader of Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, Horror and Steampunk herself, Rachel founded Hallowread- an interactive convention for both authors and fans of those genres.

More information on Hallowread, its schedule of events and participating authors can be found at www.hallowread.blogspot.com  and www.facebook.com/Hallowread .

She still lives in Maryland with her husband and three children.








Goodreads  Author Page http://goo.gl/FZW0RN

Amazon Author Page http://goo.gl/Q6Ubn1




Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Silk by Pruitt


Silk
L.M. Pruitt

Release Date: April 19, 2016

Book Description:

They called it the murder tree.

In 1995, twenty kids went in to the woods. Only three came back.

There are monsters in the woods.

Twenty years later, what happened is still a mystery.

The monsters are back.

Now, the town of Silk faces its greatest threat in over two hundred years. No one is safe.

Not even the monsters.

Available for Pre-Order at Amazon


Monsters in the Woods

Villains are fascinating. Even when they’re horrible, even when they do horrible things, there’s something about the bad guy that draws us to them. It’s why zombies are so popular, why Darth Vader is a cultural icon, why people are pretty much in love with Loki (although that also might have something to do with the actor). Being bad is cool.
So when I started thinking of the individual behind the very horrible things happening in the town of Silk, I was faced with a dilemma. How do I make this person so, so bad that their actions are unredeemable but not so bad that people will automatically hate them?
In the end, I did three things:
1)       I gave them a traumatic childhood experience
2)       I gave them a stifling, stultifying environment
3)       I gave them someone to love
It’s the last one that I believe really drives home the idea that even horrible people aren’t entirely monsterous. It’s also much more terrifying than if a villain didn’t have a heart. It’s easy to write off the actions of a person when they have no redeeming quality—there’s nothing “normal” people can relate to. But realizing that the person responsible for death and destruction and mayhem loves, hurts, cries… all of a sudden the monster isn’t a monster. All of a sudden, they’re human.
And realizing the monster could have been you?
To me, that’s just about as scary as it gets.


 Review:

Wow. If you like a good thriller then this is for you. There are monsters in the woods...and a page turning story to get you reading long past lights out. Interesting characters and a fun plot...I liked it very much! It was so much like one of my horror movies I couldn't put it down.

4/5

 November 1995

They called it the murder tree.
The kids did, anyway. To the adults, those people who no longer believed in ghost stories and things that went bump in the night, it was known as the old Litz tree. The last living monument to the family who founded the town before Georgia was even a state, giving their money and lives in the process.
The adults liked to gloss over that particular part of the story when discussing the history of Mulberry.
The kids preferred to linger on it.
Most of them knew the story of the night the Litz family lost their lives before they were even able to read the decades old textbooks grudgingly provided by the Department of Education. By the time they graduated to junior high, all the kids—the cool ones, at least, the ones you wanted at your party or it wasn’t really a party—had camped out next to the murder tree. More than one high school girl had allowed her boyfriend to “comfort” her in the shadow of the ancient mulberry after listening to the story of the Litz family yet again.
You weren’t a part of Mulberry until you had spent your time at the murder tree.
It was the only reason Elias Crenshaw could think of for why he was freezing his balls off on what was shaping up to be the coldest night of the year.
That and the fact Mandy Jones had promised him she’d be there. The way she’d told him, with just the tiniest smile of her bubblegum pink lips and a flutter of lashes, was enough to keep him warm.
But only for another hour. After that, he was going home. The guys could rag him all they wanted on Monday morning. They’d be the one with bug bites and frozen fingers and all the other stupid things that happened when you spent the night in the frickin’ woods. He’d be warm and rested and all studied up for the big biology exam in sixth period.
Man, if he didn’t get at least a C his parents were going to flip. They’d already been on the fence about letting him camp out the Friday before a test. If he failed, they wouldn’t let him out of the house again until the end of the school year. He’d be the only kid not allowed to go the eighth grade prom.
Mandy Jones would never go out with him if he was the loser kid who didn’t go to the prom.
“Your face is going to freeze like that.”
Elias snorted. “No, it won’t.”
“Yeah, it will.” Shephard Jackson widened her already big brown eyes—bug eyes, Mandy called them—and nodded solemnly. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Probably the wrong thing to say when we’re next to the murder tree.” Elias tilted toward her, leaning in with his whole body before hunching his shoulders and shivering. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t allowed in the woods after dark.”
“I’m not.” She huffed out a breath, the puff of frosty air doing nothing to dislodge the white blonde hair seemingly glued to her forehead. She’d bleached it the week before on a dare, just like she’d pierced her nose last month and broken in to the library the month before that. “But that’s Kelly’s stupid rule. She keeps trying to act like she’s my mom or something.”
“Well, she married your dad.” Elias winced when she reached over and smacked him on the back of his head. “Jesus, Shep.”
“You’re not supposed to take her side. You’re supposed to take mine.” She sniffled and swiped her hand under her nose. “That’s what best friends do.”
“Fine, whatever.” When Shep sighed, Elias rolled his eyes. “It’s a stupid rule and she’s a bitch and she should stop trying to act like she’s your mom.”
“Thank you.” The pseudo sniffling immediately stopped and she leaned in to him, her slight frame weighing next to nothing. After a moment, she said, “What are you doing here?”
“Rite of passage.” He nodded at the small group clustered around the carefully constructed fire. Albert had insisted they follow all the safety rules for lighting a fire in the woods, reminding everyone of Smokey the Bear’s immortal saying. “Supposed to be more people coming. Real party.”
“Oh, please.” She scoffed, the harsh exhalation shaking her entire body. “You’re here because Mandy Jones said she was going to be here. Her and her little group. They’re so… ugh.” She shook her head before turning to scowl at him. “You couldn’t fall in love with some girl who can actually have a conversation for longer than five minutes without mentioning cheerleading or makeup?”
“First, I’m not in love with her.” Elias returned her scowl, narrowing his eyes to slits. “We barely know each other.” Truth, even though he’d spent countless hours imagining what it would be like to kiss her. “Second, just because she’s not fighting the power or whatever you do when you’re not pissing off your stepmom doesn’t make her stupid. She’s really smart.”
“Eli, she said it was ridiculous to have the term ‘african-american’ because if you were born in America you obviously couldn’t be from Africa.”
“Well.” He paused, racking his brain for an explanation even as he winced. “You know, there are a lot of adults who feel the same way. Like we should all just embrace our current culture and let of our heritage.”
“Right.” Shep snorted and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She jerked her chin at the fire. “Let’s go. Story time.”
“Oh, come on.” He groaned, digging in his heels half-heartedly when she tried to drag him toward the group. They both knew it would be impossible for her to move him unless he helped. She was a hundred pounds soaking wet, barely topping five feet while he’d gained twenty pounds since school started. The only reason he wasn’t as fat as a turkey was the corresponding growth spurt, the new six inches putting him dangerously close to six feet. “Not again. We’ve heard this thing a million times.”
“So this will be a million and one. Come on.” She yanked his arm harder, grumbling something under her breath about ogres. “It’s tradition to tell the story at every campout. Besides….” She trailed off, smiling up at him and batting her lashes. “I’m pretty sure Mandy finally arrived.”
“Well, in that case.” He laughed when she gasped, using her moment of feigned shock to scoop her up and toss her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. “You know what’s really great about having you as a best friend? You’re easy to pick up when we’re fighting.”
“You’re such a troglodyte.” Shep pounded on his back with her fists, biting back a scream when he took a step forward. “If anybody sees me, I swear—on my mom’s grave—I will make your life miserable for the rest of the year.”
He paused, not at the threat, but the oath. After a minute, he dropped her back to her feet, brushing a speck of something off the shoulder of her jacket. They stared at each other, the awkwardness of the silence nearly tangible. Finally, he said, “Sorry, Shep.”
“Whatever.” Spinning on her heels, she stomped toward the far side of the group, the laces of her combat boots slithering over the dead leaves like a snake. She slid between Albert and Jacob, sneering at something one of them said. Elias watched for another minute before shoving his hands in his pockets and trudging over to join the growing group.
“Hey, Elias.” Mandy half walked, half skipped up to him as he neared the fire, linking her arm with his. “I thought you were going to spend all night talking to that weirdo.”
“She’s not a weirdo.” The defense was as automatic as breathing. “Her mom died, remember? Like, right in front of her. She’s just, you know, grieving.”
“Right.” Mandy sighed, the sort of huge, exaggerated sigh Elias knew meant annoyance at his supposed ignorance. His older sister made the same noise every time he asked her a question. “Whatever. I didn’t come out to these stupid woods to talk about her.” She smiled at him, the fire casting shadows over her normally light and bright face. “I came to hang out with you.”
“Dude, we’re waiting.” Isiah Graves, Elias’s second best friend—but number one guy best friend, as Isiah was quick to point out—raised his voice to an almost shout. Since he’d been the one to propose the campout, he’d insisted he get to tell the story of the murder tree. Elias didn’t bother reminding him it was a hollow honor. “Story and then party. Rules are rules, man.”
“Nobody cares except for you.” Jacob Wesson had the honor of being the oldest person in the group by a month and the first to have a voice which didn’t crack at random moments. “Just get this boring ass shit over with before I die of fucking boredom.”
“Okay, okay.” Isiah hunched his shoulders and shuffled his feet, shooting a glare around the group at large before straightening to his full height. “The year was 1748. The town of Mulberry was struggling, just as it had been since the Litz family arrived from Germany with a dream of producing silk and other luxury goods.”
“He sounds like a really dorky version of Mr. Young.” Mandy’s breathy whisper smelled like cinnamon and Elias closed his eyes for a split second, inhaling deeply. When he opened them again, she was watching him with a knowing look.
“Everybody else in the town wanted to use the land for rice, something they could use and sell. But the Litz’s refused to give up their dream.” Isiah paused, drawing out the attempt at suspense. “Finally, the people of Mulberry decided enough was enough.”
Even though everybody knew how the story went, how it ended, every last one of them inched closer. The next part of the tale was always told in a voice barely above a whisper, as if the long dead participants would hear and interrupt to correct the teller on some minute point. Tonight was no exception.
“The entire town, everybody except the children, marched out to the Litz homestead. Josiah Litz tried to talk them down, make them see reason, but he failed.” Isiah stepped back and pointed up at a thick limb jutting out from the trunk in a crooked line. “They strung him up here but the fall didn’t break his neck. So he watched while the town slaughtered his entire family.”
He paused again, the group holding its collective breath. The leaves, long dead but stubbornly clinging to their branches, shivered as a faint wind blew through the forest. Mandy moved closer to Elias and he put his arm around her, ignoring Shep’s eye roll.
Isiah waited a beat longer. “Or rather—almost his entire family.
“They forgot the oldest son was returning from New York. Franz Litz had been gone so long, it was possible the town had forgotten he even existed.” Isiah rapped his knuckles on the tree trunk, nodding solemnly. “But Josiah hadn’t. And while he slowly suffocated to death under the weight of his own body, he swore his family would have their revenge. And they did.
“While the town burned the house and the trees and buried the bodies of the Litz family, Franz, who’d witnessed everything from the safety of the woods, rode in to Mulberry.” Isiah stepped back in to the circle, his low voice forcing everybody to move closer in order to hear. “And hung every last child.”
The wind gusted through the woods again, stronger this time, the trees rattling their limbs in protest. Somewhere in the distance, some animal let out a single short cry, quickly cut off by the crunching of something larger and more dangerous. Elias glanced around the circle, surprised at the number of pale faces and large eyes, even as he reminded himself it was only a story.
“The townspeople caught him right after he hung his last victim, a baby barely a month old. They hauled him, kicking and screaming, back to the murder tree.” As one, they turned to look at the ancient mulberry. “Even as they put the rope around his neck, he fought. His last words before the noose broke his neck were ‘A cursed ground bears only poisonous fruit’.”
“Or so they say.” Jacob snorted and shook his head. “Whatever, dude. Stupid story about a whole bunch of dead people.” He nudged Shep with his shoulder and laughed. “Fuck’em. Let’s party.”
The circle broke up in to smaller groups, twos and threes and fours, each cluster wandering away from the murder tree. Mandy gripped Elias’s arm tighter and shivered. “That was so scary, right?”
“Right.” He wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not and the smell of her floral perfume was too distracting for him to try and figure it out one way or the other. “So, uh, did you want to go for a walk or something?”
“A walk?” She laughed and shook her head. “Uh, no.” Still laughing, she slipped away from him, reaching up and pushing her shiny lemon-yellow hair behind her shoulders. “I actually need to go talk to Shanna about the routine for the game tomorrow.”
“Right.” Elias nodded dumbly. “Uh, right. Good luck with that. I’ll just… go… talk to Isiah.”
Elias hunched his shoulders, stalking over to the base of the murder tree. Isiah studied his face, rocking on his heels before sucking air through his teeth. “Man, that was an epic crash and burn. Epic.”
“Shut up.” Elias punched him, pulling back at the last second. Isiah was nearly as skinny as Shep but more fragile looking, as if a good solid blow would break him in two. “She had to go do cheerleading stuff.”
“Cheerleading stuff.” Isiah snorted. “She’s such a fucking tease.”
“Dude, stop.” Elias looked up as another gust of wind shook the branches, a handful of leaves falling down around them like confetti. “Did you have to pick the coldest night ever to do this thing?”
“Nah, that was just luck.” The other boy grinned and attempted to wiggle his eyebrows. “Pretty spooky, right?”
“Whatever.” Elias nudged him with his elbow. “You bring any good snacks or what?”



The crying woke him up.
At first it was just part of the dream. A good dream. A dream where Mandy Jones was dancing with him at prom, telling him how awesome he was and how great he looked and how much she loved him. And then he heard crying but when he looked at Mandy she was still smiling and telling him how she couldn’t wait to kiss him.
“Elias, wake up. Wake up, Elias, wake up.”
“G’way.” He rolled over, smashing his face in the lining of his sleeping bag. “Sleeping.”
Wake up, please, Eli.”
 At the use of his childhood nickname, he rolled back over, opening his eyes until he was able to squint through heavy lids. “Shep?”
“Quiet.” She cupped her hand over his mouth, leaning down and pressing her lips to his ear. When her cheek touched his, he realized the smooth skin was wet. “We have to run before he finds us.”
He tried to speak again, glaring at her in the dark when she dug her nails in to his jaw. After a moment, he realized she was attempting to turn his head. Rather than struggle, he let her, blinking in an effort to get his eyes to adjust to the nearly non-existent light.
At first he thought someone had thrown a sleeping bag over a branch. Stupid kid stuff. But the longer he stared, the less sense that made and the more details he began to see. Like how it—whatever it was—was thinner at the top, like a rope, before becoming pudgy and then narrowing down to a gentle v shape. How it swung back and forth slowly like an overweight pendulum. How it made a wet, gurgling sound which raised the hairs all over his body.
And then the moon broke free of the clouds and Elias realized it wasn’t a sleeping bag. Not even close.
And it wasn’t the only one hanging from the branches of the murder tree.
He started to scramble to his feet—to run or hide or help his friends—only for Shep to yank him back down. Her voice was tight and thin when she said, “They’re dead. They’re all dead. We have to go.”
Nodding dumbly, he let her pull him further away from the tree, deeper in to the woods. She’d begged and pleaded and whined until he’d agreed to sleep next to her, as far away from the fire as possible while still being in the clearing. The tangle of bushes had provided extra coverage against the northern wind, something he’d been thankful for as the fire died down and the cold set in.
“My shoes.” Even though he knew he spoke, he was barely able to hear himself through her hand. “Shep.”
“There’s no time.” As if to prove her point, she stomped her own bare foot on top of his. “Come on.”
In the darkness behind them, someone giggled.
They ran.
Elias glanced over his shoulder, nearly tripping and falling when he saw a fire, this one easily twice as big as the one Albert had so carefully built hours earlier. And standing around it were a half dozen figures, lit by the ghoulish flames.
The faces—long, narrow, big-eyed, slack-jawed, smiling, drooling—were the last things Elias remembered for a very, very long time.




About the Author:
L.M. Pruitt has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. A native of Florida with a love of New Orleans, she has the uncanny ability to find humor in most things and would probably kill a plastic plant. She knows this because she's killed bamboo. Twice.  She is the author of the Winged series, the Plaisir Coupable series, Jude Magdalyn series, the Moon Rising series, and Taken: A Frankie Post Novel.

Pre-order Giveaway
Order the book before April 18 and receive
a free short story and signed bookmark

Please visit http://www.lmpruitt.org/SILK.php  for details

Monday, September 28, 2015

Dark Secrets Virtual Book Tour



Dark Secrets:
A Paranormal Noir Anthology
Rachel Caine, Cynthia Eden,
Megan Hart, Suzanne Johnson, Jeffe Kennedy, Mina Khan

Genre: Paranormal Noir,
Romance, Fantasy, Urban Fantasy

Date of Publication:  September 29, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-942840-05-3
ASIN: B0147D7JTU

Number of pages: Approx. 350
Word Count: Approx. 150,000

Cover Artist: Robin Ludwig Design

Book Description:

Six award-winning authors bring you this spellbinding collection of stories about dark desires, mysterious worlds, and danger that lurks in the shadows of the night. Where nothing is black and white; where things might not be as they seem; where magic and mayhem rule.

MARION, MISSING by Rachel Caine

Valentine is a detective with two major problems: he's been offered a kidnapping case that will probably get him killed, and his partner won't let him turn it down. He owes her that much … since his partner's a ghost, and he's the one who killed her. A dark, haunting noir mystery of love, hate and loss.

FEMME FATALE by Cynthia Eden

PI Mick Swayne has seen it all—his clients have included liars, thieves, and even killers. He thinks he can handle anything and anyone. Then she walks into his office. Savannah Moreau is beautiful, seductive, and…a vampire? The gorgeous vamp hires Mick to help her track down a killer who is hunting in Chicago, but as Mick slips deeper into Savannah’s paranormal world, he wonders if he can really trust his new client…

DANCE WITH THE DEVIL by Megan Hart

When the devil starts the music, you'd better get ready to dance.

Kathleen Murphy has sold her soul to the devil. Fame, fortune, success...everything she's ever dreamed of is hers, and all she has to do is the devil's bidding. When love comes knocking, the last thing in the world she wants to do is involve Jake in her twisted world, but the devil's started up the jukebox and Kathleen has no choice but to learn the steps.

THE CONSORT by Suzanne Johnson

Faulkner Hearne, the captain of the ruthless Fae Hunters, finds his duty at odds with his heart when he’s ordered to capture the consort of Faerie’s cruel Prince of Summer when she flees across the veil into modern New Orleans. Can Faulk turn Liandra over to a certain death at the hands of the prince, or will he risk a war with Faerie in order to save her? An all-new novella set in the Sentinels of New Orleans multiverse.

HEART’S BLOOD by Jeffe Kennedy, a Twelve Kingdoms novella

A dark fairytale retelling of a princess robbed of rank, husband and even her name.
Nix is nothing. The Princess Natilde—her former waiting woman—attacked her on the journey to wed Prince Cavan, stripping her of everything and taking her place. With no serving skills, Nix becomes a goose girl. Perhaps if Nix keeps her promise never to reveal who she really is, Natilde won’t carry out her vile threats. Prince Cavan entered his arranged marriage determined to have a congenial, if not loving relationship with his future queen—for the sake of both their kingdoms. But, his wife repels him more each day and he finds himself absurdly drawn to the lovely Nix....With broken vows, anguish and dark secrets between them, Cavan and Nix struggle to find the magic to restore what’s gone terribly wrong... if it ever can be.

THE DJINN IN THE MIRROR by Mina Khan, a Djinn World novella

A paranormal Cinderella story with a young witch as the heroine and a wicked, sexy djinn instead of a fairy godmother....Dahlia, the step-daughter of a power hungry wizard, promises to free a djinn trapped in a mirror if he rescues her from impending death. But Ashmael the djinn has his own agenda: to trick & seduce his way to freedom. The only problem is he ends up falling for Dahlia. Can he win his freedom and save the girl?




About the Authors:

Rachel Caine is the New York Times, USA Today, and #1 internationally bestselling author of more than 45 novels that span the categories of horror, suspense, urban fantasy, science fiction, media tie-in, historical, and young adult. She’s also the author of more than 100 short stories.


Twitter: @rachelcaine



Award-winning author Cynthia Eden writes dark tales of paranormal romance and romantic suspense. She is a New York Times, USA Today, Digital Book World, and IndieReader best-seller. Cynthia is also a three-time finalist for the prestigious RITA® award. Since she began writing full-time in 2005, Cynthia has written over fifty novels and novellas.


Twitter: @cynthiaeden



Megan Hart is a USA Today, Publisher’s Weekly and New York Times bestselling author who writes in many genres including mainstream fiction, erotic fiction, science fiction, romance, fantasy and horror.


Twitter: @megan_hart



Suzanne Johnson is the author of the award-winning Sentinels of New Orleans urban fantasy series. Writing as Susannah Sandlin, she is author of the award-winning Penton Legacy paranormal romance series as well as The Collectors romantic suspense series, including Lovely, Dark, and Deep, winner of the 2015 Holt Medallion and the 2015 Booksellers Best Award winner for romantic suspense. Her new Wildlife Wardens romantic suspense series begins in 2016 with Wild Man’s Bluff.


Twitter: @suzanne_johnson



Jeffe Kennedy is an award-winning author whose works include non-fiction, poetry, short fiction, and novels. Her most recent works include a number of fiction series: the fantasy romance novels of A Covenant of Thorns; the contemporary BDSM novellas of the Facets of Passion, an erotic  contemporary serial novel, Master of the Opera, the fantasy series The Twelve Kingdoms, and the erotic romance trilogy, Falling Under. The first of the Twelve Kingdoms books, The Mark of the Tala, has been nominated for the RT Book of the Year while the sequel, The Tears of the Rose, has been nominated for best fantasy romance of the year. Jeffe lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with two Maine coon cats, plentiful free-range lizards and a very handsome Doctor of Oriental Medicine.


Twitter: @jeffekennedy



Award-winning author Mina Khan grew up in Bangladesh on stories of djinns, ghosts and monsters. These childhood fancies now color her fiction. She daydreams of hunky paranormal heroes, magic, mayhem and mischief and writes them down as stories. She is the author of the Djinn World Chronicles, including The Djinn’s Dilemma and A Tale of Two Djinns, as well as Wildfire, a paranormal mystery with cowboys and dragons.


Twitter: @SpiceBites







Friday, January 9, 2015

The Confessions of Sylva Slasher


Confessions of Sylva Slasher
A Zombie Novel
Ace Antonio Hall

Publisher:  Montag Press, April 2013
Genre: YA Horror


December 12 Guest blog
Penny Writes

December 15 review
With Her Nose Stuck In A book

December 16 Interview
Roxanne’s Realm

December 17 Interview
The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom

December 18 review
Mythical Books

December 19 review
fuonlyknew

December 22 Guest blog
Fang-tastic Books

December 23 Mini Interview
Para Your Normal

December 26 Spotlight
Lisa’s World of Books

December 29 Spotlight
Deb Sanders

December 30 Spotlight and review
Once Upon a YA Book

December 31 Interview
Deal Sharing Aunt

January 1 Interview
Mom With A Kindle

January 2 Review
Natural Bri - Pursuits of Life

January 5 Spotlight
Counter Culture Critic

January 6 Spotlight
Share My Destiny

January 8 Spotlight
CBY Book Club

January 9 Guest Blog and Review
Zombie Girl Shambling

January 9 Spotlight
Geeks In High School


Book Description:

THE LOVE OF HER LIFE BECOMES THE DEATH OF THEIR LOVE

Sylva Fleischer is a teenager who works as a necromancer for a living. Wanting to get away from raising the dead for police investigations and demanding grieving families for a while, she goes on a cruise for spring break. Her vacation from the dead is short-lived when passengers on the ship turn into flesh-eating zombies. These are not the same simple-minded harmless zombies she raises and can control, so Sylva and her friends are trapped on the Pacific Ocean. Their only escape comes from a guy Sylva thought was dead: Brandon. It just so happens to also be the anniversary of his death, and she's still hurting from his loss!

Why didn't he call to say he's alive? All those tears … for nothing.


Sylva doesn't normally hold grudges, but when someone plays with her heart they have to pay. However, with the fate of the human race on the line, Brandon convinces Sylva to join him in a secret mission, yet she can't shake the feeling that he's hiding something.

It didn't take long for her suspicions to hold true when it's revealed that Brandon has been romantically involved with the very enemy he now wants her to destroy. To top that brutal betrayal, the villainous female would rather kill Brandon than let Sylva have a chance to patch things up between them. Sylva is not the kind of girl to walk away from love without a fight, but with a strange virus threatening extinction of human life, she shoves her own feelings in her back pocket to face her greatest nightmare, and that nightmare starts with something that is eerily growing right inside of her own mind and body.

When The Heart Bleeds, Sometimes Your Friends Are All You've Got

Available at Amazon

Praise for Ace Antonio Hall and Confessions of Sylva Slasher

“A treat for Buffy fans—but 100% Ace Antonio Hall's own twisted vision. Breathes new life into the living dead; run, don't shamble to get a copy.”
—Robert J. Sawyer, Hugo and Nebula Award-winning author of the WWW trilogy

“In a vast sea of zombie tales, Hall's tale is more than a cut above. He brings the entire genre to heel and treats us to one Hell of a ride.”
—Art Holcomb, writer of Professor Xavier & the X-Men vs. The Avengers, Marvel Comics


Excerpt Chapters 1 & 2

PART ONE SILVER KISSES

For since death came through a man,
the resurrection of the dead
comes also through a man.— I Corinthians 15:21

Chapter 1

YEAH, THE WHOLE STINKING PLANET WANTED ME DEAD, and they got their wish. I tried to move but couldn’t. Not with a broken back. Breathing slow, uneven, I stared into the undead woman’s eyes that dripped an ominous glare down onto my helpless body.

Maybe if I hadn’t gotten dreamy eyes for this really cute guy (I mean jerk), the weight of the human race wouldn’t be sitting on my shoulders. I would’ve easily given my life so my best friend, Emily, wouldn’t die. Too late.


The full moon draped around the undead woman’s shadow that climbed up my broken body like ghosts of death. The island soil, thirsty for moisture, welcomed my blood. Terror wrestled me into a stone cold chokehold—I forgot how to scream. The scent of rotten corpses gripped my nostrils. A horde of the walking dead moaned and hovered over me like starved coyotes as the undead woman crept forward on all fours to kill me, again.


Chapter 2

Several hours prior:

I HATED THAT I COULDN’T TELL REALITY FROM MY NIGHTMARES. Maybe, just maybe I spent one too many nights raising the dead. My parents named me Sylva Fleischer, but most people knew me as Sylva Slasher (I’ll get to why later). I made a pretty cool living as a necromancer for The Silver Kisses Aerial Ash Scattering Company. We raised zombies for mourners to say their last goodbyes. A lot of times we did it for police investigations, occasionally for corporate disputes, and then we cremated the deadheads and scattered the remains over Hawaii’s beautiful waters. As a matter-of-fact, some guy from the military base in Honolulu kept leaving messages on my cell phone that he wanted me to raise some dead soldier for a case they were investigating. But I had other plans. Look, I just turned eighteen, so if I wanted to ditch some lame colonel for something way more hella-fun, I would. What? Can’t a girl have priorities?

Twilight peeked over my shoulders as I looked for my friends while aboard the Sea Queen a.k.a. The Ship of a Thousand Corpses—the best freaking zombie-themed cruise in America. Imagine being in one of those magnificent hotels in Las Vegas during spring break; the golden elevators, escalators, walkover bridges, restaurants, and stores, filled with tons of thrill-seeking college kids and adults. You could call the Sea Queen one of the world’s best luxury hotels but on water.


A woman hired me to do a raising on the ship. Emily, and her boyfriend, Beckham, or Flip as he liked to be called (Hawaiian-born and Japanese-descended like Em), were going to help me. After I finally got dressed, I saw Emily’s wacky picture that she posted on Facebook and her bitchy complaint that she and Flip were waiting on me (I’m always fashionably late) in the bar on the Nightwalker Deck. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clue where to go. The captain was escorting me up, but some kind of urgent call came in and he dashed out of the elevator speaking radio codes into his walkie-talkie.

One of my all-time fave videos, Sweet Dreams, played on the inside of the elevator doors via a hi-tech projector system. I loved it that I could watch a music video (albeit, one I’ve seen a kazillion times) inside of the elevator. A volume control knob sat beneath the red emergency button. Marilyn Manson crawled out of the rundown fireplace wearing black boots, a dirty tutu, and a torn bodice that showed off his skeletal bare chest. Alright, that’s enough. I turned the sound down so I could briefly gather my thoughts for the raising.


The elevator doors eased open. I stepped out, immediately folding my arms and shivering. I wore a black mid-riff tee shirt, tight leather pants, and some five-and-a-half inch knee-high Gothic boots. I sighed, berating myself for not wearing a warmer top. The ship’s fake fog blanketed the air so I could barely see anything. Already late, I didn’t want to waste any more time so I stopped to ask a person dressed like a zombie nun for directions. She sat on the bench in front of the ship’s THEATRE UNDER THE STARS, rocking back and forth. A broken dog leash dangled in her hand. The closer I got, the more I realized her hunched feeble posture.

“Lady, are you okay?” I asked.

She didn’t answer but kept rocking. Her abrupt movements made her wimple flap around her neck and chin. I glanced up at the speaker mounted on the wall above us, creeped out by the spooky organ music streaming out into the foggy air.

The lady made a gurgling sound.

“Miss, hey? Are you okay?”

Her head lifted slowly. The yellow rays from the moon crept into the shadows under her headdress. I stepped forward slowly, swallowing unease.

A name spilled out of my mouth, slow, whispered. “Malena?”

I remembered admiring the blind woman’s seeing eye dog when we embarked the ship. I couldn’t resist petting her wolfdog. Emily and Flip were so occupied looking for their tickets that they didn’t even see Malena and her dog.

She made another gurgling sound. I took a step back, peering into her cloudy-white eyes.

“Um, okay, I get it,” I said. “You were hired by the ship to scare people. Right?”

I swayed a little to the left as the ship went over choppy waters. The blind woman stared past me with a vacant stare, and then her head rolled over to her right shoulder.

“Hey—hey—hey. You’re not okay,” I said, extending my arm, ready to catch her if she fell off of the bench.

Was she having a seizure?

Malena muttered something. Saliva ran down her mouth and dripped down her chalky white face.

“Are you having a allergic reaction?” I glanced to my right, then left. “Maybe I should get the ship’s doctor.”

Her body started to convulse and she dropped the dog’s leash on the deck’s floor. She moaned, curling up into a ball on the bench.

“Okay—okay—okay, I’m going to get help,” I said, taking a quick step toward the stairs. “But, uh, shoot, I don’t want to leave you alone.”

A sign directly above her read nightwalker deck maze; another, near the elevator lifts, pointed to the bathrooms. Someone had to be coming by, any second. Another gurgling noise came from the blind woman. She coughed and blood spurted out of her mouth. I shielded my eyes with the back of my hand and something wet splattered on my forearm.

“Oh, my God, Malena! You’re, you’re hemorrhaging.”

I wiped her blood off my arms, onto the side of my top and pulled out my iPhone to call 911. No reception.

“Somebody, help. Call 911!”

I heard someone giggling and saw shadows approaching me through the fog. Two Asian girls, maybe in their late teens, dressed in shredded jeans and pink tee shirts passed behind me.

I gestured to them. “Can I use either one of your phones to call 911? This lady is totally sick!”

“Nice try,” one of them said, revealing the braces on her teeth. “But you only try to scare us.”

“No, please, really. Are you getting reception out here? I’m not getting reception.”

They laughed and pointed at the bench. “Maybe she pull your leg,” the same girl said.

I turned around and glared at an empty bench.

Where did she go?

The girls giggled and walked toward the bathroom, shaking their heads.

“What a moron,” the other one said.


“Miss? Miss, where are you?” I called out, a little irritated by those stupid girls who didn’t believe me. I looked toward the bridge then back at the girls. “Where did she go?” They ignored me and went into the bathroom. Seriously?

“Maybe I am a moron,” I said, under my breath. There were a few droplets of blood on the bench, but I couldn’t find a trail showing me which way she went. She could’ve only gone but so many places—the elevator lift, the stairs, across the bridge (which she didn’t because I would have seen her), overboard, or into the Nightwalker Deck Maze.

If that old, blind lady thought I was going to play her game and follow her into the maze, she had another thing coming. Whatever. Time to do this raising and then try to have some fun for a change.

I took one step and the thought of Malena sent a chill creeping down the nape of my neck. Where did she go? Aw, Who cares? I shook it off, folded my arms, again, and walked toward a bridge that led to the highest deck on the ship.


Someone screamed. I turned quickly, and blew out a long breath as a wolf man in tattered clothes chased a screaming girl across the bridge and through a door. Music blared from out of the place and I knew that Emily and Flip would be in there. That must be the bar, Lipstick Zombies.

I walked over the bridge, glancing back every few seconds for Malena. The instant I crossed halfway over, I heard the music thumping behind the bar’s door. When I saw the neon sign, I got a little excited. Maybe with a little partying, I thought, I’d feel better and forget about everything that sucked in my life—for a while.


CAN'T WAIT FOR THE SEQUEL? HERE'S A PREVIEW TO
SKATEBOARD XOMBIES, SEARCH FOR THE CRYSTAL COFFIN:

On a normal school day in Lunyon Canyon, California, teenage necromancer, Sylva Fleischer, bickers with her teacher in class over an unfairly graded paper. But when the principal announces that all teachers should lock their door and not let any students leave class, the entire school is trapped in a world of terrifying zombies that not only bite with their teeth, they bite with their minds.


Since all life on Earth faces extinction at the hands of the perilous undead, a guardian of a secret society of vampire monks saves Sylva, her friend, Half-Pipe and her family, and lead them to an alternate world. And that's when the real terror begins ... on a planet full of every imaginable type of undead creature that ever lived ... Including those telekinetic zombies!

What Zombie Writers Should Have In THE FIRST TEN PAGES
by Ace Antonio Hall

  1. State the name of the protagonist.

    Many have said otherwise, stating that it is boring and not creative, however, I have found that if you're trying to get past the slush pile, there is nothing more irritating to the agent or publisher reading your manuscript as to not knowing who the protagonist is, and much worse, not knowing if it is a male or female.

    2) Introduce all the main characters (or make a reference to them) by pages 6-10.

    3) State the age of the protagonist. (Especially, if you are writing YA. Publishers and Agents want to know right away the age group of the target audience. For YA, it is 12-18)

    4) Reveal the ghosts of protagonist. What pains the character? This information is not only good to allow the reader to empathize with the character but also allows the reader to relate to the character's pains. Needless to say, the pain must be an emotional one that most people in your target audience can relate to. Remember: The thought process that many publishers and entertainment producers have is, "Show me something I've seen before, but differently." Also, you must insert, masterfully (or as best as you can), the internal/external conflict of the character, thus showing the beginnings of the arc, which sets up the arc's path and destination.

    Before page ten, we should know some of the demons that plague the protagonist, and show things that makes the character likable. Unless you want your protagonist to be an unlikable character, which is probably not the best idea (unless she is an anti-hero, even then, be cautious). Also, writing an action(s) which make the reader, in this case, the Publisher or Agent, like the character is also key. For example, when the hero helps his neighbor get a cat out of a tree even after telling the neighbor about his allergies to cat fur. The reader can't help but like your hero. See how powerful that tool is?

    Note how long this point is—that's because I feel it is Very Important!

    5) Setting. The setting is more than the place, it is the environment, the weather, time of day, and date. You can barely get through the first paragraph of any good novel and not know if it is hot or cloudy, cold, or windy.

    The weather, as well as your descriptive word choices, will help set the tone whether you want the mood to be dark, or sarcastic, colorful, humorous, or Gothic.

    The time of day is simply letting the reader know if it is day, or night, morning, or midnight. The date can be literal:
    On October 29th, 2008, I helped my mother kill her abuser; dad.
    Or it can be more ambiguous:
    Long, long ago, in a world where zombies were as common as the cold, I'd finally learned how to throw a curve ball.

    6) Inciting incident/Call to Action. Sometimes, these are two different occurrences, many times, they are the same. In either case, this is where your plot truly begins, letting the Agent or Publisher know what your story is about. Wait until after page ten to do this, and it is highly plausible that your story will not catch their attention.

    Also, within the first ten pages:

    Use the 5 senses, thematic elements (many first time authors simply have the character state the theme), mold the tone, and have the opening images set up the mirror images of what the character will have to walk into upon his/her adventure--the normal world before they enter the STRANGE NEW WORLD.

    If it's a Science Fiction story, technology must be introduced immediately. If the character is a bad-ass, show the reader why within the first six pages, but also remember that it is so important to integrate the ghosts, and characteristics that the reader can relate to, as well, or you chance making the reader not care about your numero uno character. Not good.

    Lastly, if the character is employed, either use an immediate reference to what their job is, or allow the reader, in this case, the Agent or the Publisher, see the protagonist in their workplace immediately. For example, a witch bewitching, a vampire feeding, a teacher instructing a class, an agent on a mission, an athlete in a competition, etc. 
Review:

This book was a fun and action packed read perfect for readers of manga or anime especially. The author gets right to the point and takes you through the story quickly, providing imagery to get the reader into the scenes and good character references so you can identify with Sylva and enjoy the book. 

3/5

About the Author:

Ace Antonio Hall is an actor, former music producer, and ‘retired’ educator with accolades as a Director of Education for the Sylvan Learning Center and nearly fifteen years experience as an award-winning NYC English teacher. He has a BFA degree with a concentration in screenwriting and has published poetry, short stories and fiction in magazines, anthologies, newspapers and novels.

Inspired by his father, Chris Acemandese Hall, who penned the lyrics to the Miles Davis jazz classic, “So What”, sung by Eddie Jefferson, and his sister, Carol Lynn Brown, who guest starred in the 1970’s film, “Velvet Smooth”, Ace spawned his creativity into developing the beloved but flawed teen character, Sylva Slasher.
Ace was the Vice President of the Greater Los Angeles Writers Society (2009-2011), and continues to head the Science Fiction, Fantasy & Horror (ScHoFan) Critique Group as Co-Director of critique groups within the society. He is also a member of LASFS and the International Thriller Writers.

On April 14, 2013, Montag Press published his YA zombie novel Confessions of Sylva Slasher. His next release, Skateboard Xombies, is coming out later this year, and he has already begun working on Skateboard Xamurai for the third installment in his Sylva Slasher series.


Looking for some zombie gear? Check out Ace’s Zombie Pop Shop!









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