Review of Coming Home, a Werewolf Story by Melissa Frost w/a rafflecopter giveaway! @EvernightTeen

Review of Coming Home, a Werewolf Story by Melissa Frost w/a rafflecopter giveaway! @EvernightTeen



 

COMING HOME
Melissa Frost
20K, Evernight Teen Publishing
Paranormal/Shifters/Romance
As a foster care child, Andi never stays long in one place. She doesn’t have a chance to connect with anyone—until sexy, blue-eyed Devon walks into her life.
Devon claims to have known her birth parents. He’s even got a photograph to prove it. He shows up offering her everything she could ever want—a friend, a connection to her family, and answers.
The only problem is Devon’s friendship comes with a few complications attached. There’s the fact that he’s a werewolf, and then there’s the territorial clan out to start a war with Devon’s pack. What started as a simple journey to learn about herself turns into a dangerous road trip that could get her killed.
If she can survive, Andi just might get the answers that have been plaguing her, and she might just fall in love with her new furry pal along the way.
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Buy Links:
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Teen
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Excerpt: 
“I’m still not convinced.” She informed him of this in a tone that stated quite clearly
she thought him to be a liar. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”
At her skepticism, Devon gave a grin that could only be described as devilish. Climbing to his feet, he yanked the zipper down on his coat and shrugged out of it. He tossed the coat into the snow before lifting his shirt over his head. 
As if they had a mind of their own, her eyes drank in the sight of his bare chest. He was amazingly sculpted, his arm muscles bunching with every movement. His abs, which appeared rock solid, mirrored the action. He even had an interesting scar along his left shoulder that only seemed to add to his sex appeal. She cleared her throat uncomfortably, willing her body to settle down. She didn’t usually get so affected by boys.
When his hands went to his belt buckle and began unfastening it, she gave a squeak of objection. “What are you doing? Stop taking your clothes off!”
He grinned over at her. “You wanted to see a werewolf, didn’t you? I’m just obliging.”
 
But … but…”
He stripped out of his jeans with ease. “Werewolves aren’t freaked out by nudity, Andi. If
you remembered even the slightest bit about your history, you would know that.”
As his briefs came down, her eyes lifted hurriedly to the sky. She gazed at the clouds as if they were the most intriguing thing in the entire world. Which was a complete farce. Standing before her was the first naked boy she’d ever been in the presence of. She desperately wanted to sneak a peek, yet she was too freaked out by the idea to even lower her gaze a fraction of an inch.
“Sheesh, you’re such a human,” Devon said in complaint. “You’re such a prude that you’re about to miss all the fun.”
Andi scowled, but her gaze was still lifted skyward so she had no idea if he saw her or not. As she stood awkwardly gazing at the clouds, she realized how absolutely absurd this situation was. She was standing in the entrance to a public park. With a naked boy. In the snow.
“This is so—” Her protests broke off as an odd popping sound filled the air. She couldn’t quite place it, but it felt so familiar. It was a noise she’d heard before, but she couldn’t remember where. Her eyes lowered to Devon’s bare shoulders to find them shifting and cracking. His flesh moved in such an unnatural way, she nearly cried out in alarm. Her own hand pressing to her lips was the only thing that stopped the sound from escaping.
She watched with morbid fascination as Devon’s body repositioned and changed itself into something new. Before her very eyes, his entire being altered, and he transformed into the shape of a wolf. It took no more than a minute or two, but the time seemed to stretch on forever.
She witnessed soft puffs of cream fur appear that seemed to burst right out of his skin. His fingers elongated, the nails growing out into sharp claws. The urge to run lasted a mere second before she was stepping forward in fascination.
Her fingers outstretched toward the furry muzzle that had once been Devon’s nose. She wasn’t frightened by him in the least. How could she be? He was the wolf! The one she’d seen outside the school staring into her classroom window.
She knew instantly he’d been there for her, watching over her as he awaited their reunion. She bet he had seen it playing out quite differently. Closing her eyes, she allowed her fingers to brush over the soft fur between his ears.
The sensation of it shook her to the core. Her body remembered it, recalled it like it was yesterday. Werewolf fur. She wasn’t sure if it was his fur in particular that felt so much like home, or if it was werewolf fur in general. Either way, it startled her just how much she longed to be near him in that moment.
Her eyes snapped open, and she stumbled back, unsteady on her feet. This was far too much to absorb in one afternoon. Her mind was racing, and she didn’t even know where to begin. As a result, she simply plopped down into the snow, stunned.
 bookreview
 Pink here.  I know, I’m reviewing again.  Harlie’s on a break.  She’s tired and working with the kiddies again.  So the reading and reviewing for the next couple of months is my job.  Woo Hoo!  Harlie hasn’t given me a lot to do and I’ve been busy.  But hey she needs help and happy to be here for her.
As you know, Harlie doesn’t “do” shifters stories.  In fact its rare that she even reads PNR but I love it.  Especially YA PNR.  Of course I have to agree with my sister, my vampires don’t sparkle but I do love a good shifter story.  Ms. Foster hits one out of the park for me on this one.  I did, however, have to get over Andi’s sudden “of course I believe you” was a bit of a stretch for me but in the end I could understand it.  She never fit in and after being bounced around, it felt good to finally have some closure when it came to her family.
Devon was a dream for me.  He was patient with Andi in the beginning.  He helped her to understand what truly had happened to her parents and ultimately to her.  In fact, calling her human all the time was funny.  It was kinda like a pet name for her.  In the end though it was up to Andi to fully embrace who she was a child and to what she could become.
I loved this book.  In fact, I might have to bug Ms. Foster to write more about Andi and Devon.  Their story isn’t finished by a long shot.  Just a feeling.  Another reason why I loved this story is that it didn’t over load with all the pack stuff.  You got to know Andi and Devon as characters.  The politics and other stuff can come later.
A tender love story about find your mate and not realizing it.  At least from Andie’s POV.
And Harlie said that I can use them. :)

And Harlie said that I can use them. 🙂

Pink

About the Author:

 

Melissa Frost grew up loving young adult novels and continues to immerse herself in the current authors on the market.
In the fifth grade, she won a writing competition to work with children’s author Colleen O’Shaughnessy Mckenna, and it inspired her to write stories of her own.

She never looked back.
Google:   AuthorMelissaFrost
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Excerpt from Maiden (Tomes of the Authentic Witch #1) & Top Ten list from C.L. Marin w/a GC giveaway!

Excerpt from Maiden (Tomes of the Authentic Witch #1) & Top Ten list from C.L. Marin w/a GC giveaway!


maiden1l

Maiden

C.L. Marin

 

Evernight Teen Publishing

Paranormal/Romance/99k

Released March 6, 2015

 

 

Tomes of the Authentic Witch, 1

 

Tara secretly wished her estranged father would want her around, so when he unexpectedly contacted her, she agreed to get reacquainted. That wish turned into a nightmare. She learned that she is an Authentic Witch—the Maiden of the Moodus Coven—and the key to obliterating the black magic Haddam coven. 

 

Tara’s mother took her into hiding when she was small in order to keep her alive but the Haddam’s found her. Now Tara must trust the help she’s found in her three close friends, one mystifying new love, and a father she barely knows as she fights for the life of her mother using a power she doesn’t yet understand. 

 

And one of those trusts might cost Tara her life.

 

Top ten things you don’t know about me:

1.  Cotton or Silk?   Cotton please.

 

  1. Champagne/beer/wine? Champagne…with O.J….ON A CATAMARAN!

 

  1. Plotter/pantser I’m a total pantser. Even I sometimes don’t know how things are going to turn out until I get to the end of a scene.

 

  1. Describe your workspace. Any corner of my house that isn’t infested by a child or an animal! Seriously, though, I write with a laptop so it might be a coffee shop or it might be at my desk in my bedroom.

 

  1. Sports fan or just tolerate it? Sports fan. Boiler up!!

 

  1. Who is your biggest influence on writing? Stephenia Meyer

 

  1. Favorite food – Breakfast foods. Buffett style, preferably. Biscuits and gravy make everything better. Amen sister!  Gravy makes anything better!
  2. When did you start writing? Four years ago, if you don’t count my diaries.

 

  1. If money were no object, where would you like to live? I’d live in a nice flat in downtown Chicago. Can I cheat and say I’d have a vacation beach home in St. Petersburg, Florida, and a writing getaway cottage on Martha’s Vineyard?

 

  1. What’s next for you? I’m finishing book 2 of the Authentic Witch series while I make mental notes for book 3. I’m also toying with a New Adult novel I’m calling UNAUTHORIZED.

 

 

Buy Links:    Evernight Teen    Amazon

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Excerpt:

We walked up on a small, cinderblock building. There was a plaque on the door facing us with the silhouette of a woman in a dress painted on it. Isaac turned the handle back and forth firmly. It was locked. His teeth bore down and ground together loudly.

“I just can’t catch a break today,” he whispered into the night.

Unexpectedly, and with unrealistic strength, he kicked the door in. Never before had I seen a blow delivered with such force. The hollow metal door fired open like a cannon, striking the wall behind it, discharging a deafening echo through the structure. Isaac held onto me like a treasure while he led me inside. Maybe it was the near-death experience, but I melted into his strong arms like any good damsel-in-distress would.

Isaac turned the water on, and it rushed into the basin hard, splashing droplets all over the counter. I stood like a zombie. Isaac hiked my shirtsleeves up to my forearms, trapping my bracelet in the bunched up fabric, but as he fumbled around with the dead weight of my limbs scrubbing at the dried blood stuck to them, the jewelry was knocked loose and fell to my wrist. Isaac went rigid at the sight of it but recovered fast to finish my arms before moving on to my forehead. We said nothing.

Anguish lodged in the wrinkle between his furrowed brows, now only inches from my face. Isaac wet down another wad of paper towel, and as his gentle strokes wiped across my face it brought a little life back to me. Even so, there were no romantic gazes or love-struck smiles being exchanged—only intense analysis from Isaac, and all-consuming fear from me.

 

 

About the Author:CindyMarin3

C.L. Marin was born and raised in Lafayette Indiana. As a high school student she was more interested in her extra curricular activities like marching band, show choir, and being a diver on the swimming and diving team, than homework. In fact, C.L. Marin always said if her English Literature teacher ever found out she wrote a book she might die of a heart attack.

After high school she worked as a travel agent for ten years before going back to college and becoming a dental hygienist. It wasn’t an easy task as a single mom but once C.L. Marin has focused on a goal it isn’t often it goes unattained. Once she settled into her career there was finally time to enjoy some pleasure reading. She was spellbound to a popular young adult series but found herself unable to fill the void of the characters she’d lost after finishing it. Right then C.L. Marin made herself a new goal—write the novel she could not find! She wasn’t expecting it to be as hard to do, nor as rewarding, but it is truly her passion.

C.L. Marin still works full-time as a dental hygienist while she writes in the hours she is not sleeping. She is the mother of three wildly intelligent, and extraordinarily brilliant, children, and the wife of her high school sweetheart. They have an eleven-year-old narcoleptic black lab named Murphy Lee, a seven-year-old massively obese cat named Thai, a four-year-old spastic pit bull named Molly Jean, and a one-year-old cat named Tuttle.

 

twitter @cindy1408

facebook  https://www.facebook.com/authorCLMarin?ref=tn_tnmn

website clmarin.com

 

Giveaway:  $10 Amazon Gift Card

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Guest Post/Book Trailer/Excerpt featuring Dance of the Pink Mist (The Cracked Chronicles #2) by K.D. Van Brunt w/a $50 GC giveaway!

Guest Post/Book Trailer/Excerpt featuring Dance of the Pink Mist (The Cracked Chronicles #2) by K.D. Van Brunt w/a $50 GC giveaway!


dancepinkmist1sDance of the Pink Mist

The Cracked Chronicles, Book 2

K.D. Van Brunt

romance/paranormal/urban fantasy  – 100K

Editor’s Pick

 

In the sequel to Win the Rings, Gray is now a prisoner at Cracked, forced to undergo combat training under the supervision of his nemesis, Jace.  He soon learns first hand why all the other kids at Cracked are scared to death of her, but he also finds a chink in her armor and they both realize they have an eerie connection to one another.

 

Gradually, Gray is drawn into Jace’s dangerous world of Special Ops missions, where death waits like a shadow in every corner.
For Jace, Gray poses a new kind of threat.  Although she’s proficient in all types of combat, Jace’s training hasn’t prepared her for him, and she is forced to confront feelings she has never experienced before.

 

 

Buy Links:     Evernight Teen    Amazon

All Romance eBooks

Excerpt:

I give three raps on Jace’s door, precariously balancing an armload of her clothes in one hand and her newly pressed uniform jacket in the other.  I’ve been Jace’s personal valet and general all-around slave for over six weeks now, bustling from one task to another, while trying not to incur her prickly wrath.  And even though much of what she makes me do is demeaning, curiously I find myself stealing looks at her when she’s not paying attention to me.

“Come in,” Jace says through the closed door.

I try to stick my thumb on the bio-sensor pad next to her door, but the action causes me to lose my balance just enough to send the pile of clothes cascading to the floor.  There are no outside doorknobs here, just these small rectangular pads beside every door, which read your thumbprint and release the lock.

“Shit!” I curse.

I drop to my knees to salvage what I can and refold the rest.  The door opens behind me causing me to flinch.  I look up at Jace wondering if she’s going to give me a swift kick to the ribs for this, but she just stands in the doorway tapping her foot impatiently on the floor.  She has her arms folded across her chest looking peeved, and I see she’s dressed in old sweats and a loose-fitting camo tank top.  She doesn’t have a bra on.  For some reason I blush at this, as if I walked in on her while she was dressing.

“I should make you re-wash all of this, Gray, but I’m feeling generous tonight.”

“Excuse me.  Did you say Gray, sir?”  This would be the first time she’s used my first name since I got here.  Until now it’s been rookie, rook, newbie, new meat—among others terms of endearment.

She shrugs.  “I suppose you’ve earned the right to be called by your first name.  Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever,” she says with a sigh.  “Now listen up.  My bathroom needs cleaning.  So get this mess picked up and get to work on it.”

Five minutes later, I’m standing in front of her dresser putting away her newly refolded clothes.  I’ve memorized by now the layout of her drawers—underwear and socks in the top drawer, shirts and pajamas in the second, pants, etc., in the third.  There’s a fourth and fifth drawer, but I’m not supposed to open those, so I don’t know what she’s hiding in there.  Finishing, I glance over at Jace, who’s sitting cross-legged on her bed flipping through a magazine—Jane’s Intelligence Review.  Gee, that looks like a fun read.   Her blonde hair is so fine and soft I feel this irrational urge to run my hands through it, even though she’d probably kick me in the groin if I tried.  She’s leaning forward to study the magazine and my eyes lock onto her tank top, which is gapping enough to almost flash her entire, braless chest at me.   I gawk for a moment, but then feeling like a perv, I advert my gaze.

“Don’t stare at me, Gray.  Get to work.  The cleaning supplies are under the sink.”

I nod, but I think I detect a subtle, knowing smirk on her face.

Every room in the dorm is laid out the same—a main living area and a small bathroom off one end of the room.  The best that can be said about the bathrooms here is they’re functional: toilet, sink and commode, and a shower.  No bathtubs.   Sighing, I pull out a bristle brush and get to work on the stainless steel toilet bowl.

“You ever been to Alaska, Gray?” Jace asks after a few minutes, when I’ve moved on to scrub the shower stall.

I hesitate, puzzled by the question.  “Once.  Anchorage, sir.”

I hear her sigh loudly.  “You can call me Jace from now on.  What was it like?”

I hesitate, briefly surprised by the realization I don’t have to call her ‘sir’ anymore, but at this point it’s been so deeply drilled into me I’m not sure I’m capable of calling her anything else.

 

Book Trailerhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vthvY3hdzwI

 guestpost

The Road to Being Published

 

The first and toughest hurdle for an aspiring writer is to write the story.  The next hurdle is getting the story “published.”  This second hurdle can be huge or not so huge.  That’s because of the range of options available to writers today.   The bottom line is, if you can write the story, you can get it published—that’s not to say it’s easy, just that it’s attainable.   Which publication option is best?  The answer is going to vary for each person.

 

Most writers want to at least try the traditional publishing route—get an agent and sell their manuscript to one of the big name publishers.   For most of us, this is difficult.  The hard reality is that very few manuscripts make it.  But, if you’re dedicated to your craft, able to handle rejection, and willing to be persistent, you can definitely improve the odds, maybe even turn them in your favor.   In most cases, though, this is going to take some time.

 

What if the agent route isn’t working or just isn’t what you want?  You can submit your story directly to publishers that accept unagented submissions.  There are a many of them out there.  Most, but not all, are of modest size and independent.  If you do your research and carefully compile your list of possible publishers, this can be a great option for a writer.   Still,  it’s no shoe in.  If a publisher doesn’t like your story and doesn’t think he can sell it, you’re probably going to be rejected.  Having said that, though, these publishers are much more willing to look at stories aimed at niche markets or that are outside the current market trends in fiction.

 

Of course, like everything in life, not everyone has a wonderful experience.   You can find a lot of feedback online about small/indie publishing.  Study it.  See if, on balance, this is something that might work for you.  One thing for sure is you’re going to have to put in a lot of time and work marketing your book.  You should be doing this any way, no matter what publishing option you pursue, but it’s critical for the smaller publishers.

 

Then, of course, there’s the self-publishing option (although an interesting alternative to self-publishing to think about is Amazon’s new Kindle Scout program).

The benefits of self-publishing include the fact that you have full control over your story and no one is going to reject you.  This can be good or bad.  You’re going to have to do all the work (or pay someone to do it for you), but if you have the skills or you hire someone good, you can turn out a very professional looking book.  One potential problem with self-publishing is that without a “gatekeeper” handing out rejections, and thereby forcing people to improve their writing in order to make the cut, the quality of self-published stories is spotty to say the least.  And readers know this.  So, you have to work especially hard to market your book, but if you have a good, well-written story and you’re willing to roll up your marketing sleeves, your self-published story can really flourish.  There are certainly some amazing success stories out there to emulate.

 

What’s my publishing story?   I wrote the three books of the Cracked Chronicles (yes, book three is done) with initially little more than vague thoughts about how I would get the series published.   When I finished and turned to publishing options, I discovered that the market for young adult urban fantasy was a bit saturated—at least from the standpoint of the big publishers.  Translation: it was going to be a difficult sell getting an agent/traditional publisher to buy into it.   So, rather than waste six to nine months in a likely unsuccessful endeavor, I decided to skip the agent route for these books and go directly to small/independent publishers who were publishing books like mine.   This was the right choice for me.  I’ve had a wonderful experience with Evernight Teen—they work hard with their authors to make their books the best they can be and position them so they can succeed in the marketplace.

 

Whatever publishing route writers choose to follow, the key is persistence.  If you don’t give up, your story will get published.

 

 

K.D. Van Brunt

During the eight hours of the day when I’m not writing, reading or sleeping, I’m a lawyer in Washington, DC.  I grew up in Southern California, moved to Seattle before coming east to Boston to go to school.  Now, I live in the great state of Maryland with my wife, my dog—a standard poodle named Buffy (and who do you think named her?), and my hot Camaro.  One of the few things I like better than pizza is driving fast.  So, if you happen be in the DC area and a black Camaro with a red stripe and a rear spoiler roars by and blows your doors off…thaaat could be me. 

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Excerpt featuring Drew’s POV from The Seventh by debut author S.D. Wasley w/a $10 GC rafflecopter giveaway!

Excerpt featuring Drew’s POV from The Seventh by debut author S.D. Wasley w/a $10 GC rafflecopter giveaway!


theseventh cover

THE SEVENTH

S.D. Wasley

 

YA Paranormal Romance. Suspense

Released Jan. 23rd / Evernight Teen / 69.5k

 

~Editor’s Pick~

Blurb:

Sixteen year old Mimi Alston has company. No less than three ghosts follow her around, and only she can see them. At her last school, she was known as the girl with imaginary friends. Now Mimi’s starting fresh in a new town, where she’s determined to make some real friends and fit in for once. She’s ready for a normal life…except Mimi never counted on her fascination with troubled goth-boy, Drew.

 

When she’s invited to join the elite Gifted Program, Mimi discovers she’s not the only one at the school with an unusual talent. Maybe being normal isn’t even an option anymore.

 

 

 

Buy Links:   Evernight Teen     Amazon     Smashwords     ARe

Excerpt:

“Mimi, would you mind telling us about yourself now?”

I swallowed again. How did she expect me to make a coherent sentence after what I’d just heard? If there was another Mimi, a logical one that could step outside of my own body and look at the situation objectively, she would say: Get a grip, Miette. This is bullshit. These people are either lunatics … or they are playing the cruellest prank in history. But the problem was, logical Mimi had gone AWOL. I believed these kids. Deep in my heart, I knew without a shadow of a doubt they were telling the truth and––whether what they were describing was real or not––they believed in their gifts as fact. Doctor Mayer would have a field day with them.

I heard myself launch into speech and marvelled at how unlike myself I sounded. I heard a Mimi I hadn’t heard in years: excited, happy and relieved. “I’m Mimi Alston. I come from Perry Ridge. I have one brother, who’s much older. He lives in Canada with his wife. I love drawing, especially portraits. I had a nickname at my old school. Mimi-and-her-imaginary-friends.” I couldn’t believe I was telling them this secret … a secret I had been so determined to keep that I’d actually been prepared to fake my whole personality, day in and day out, at this new school.

“It’s because I have company with me, pretty much all the time. Meet my ghosts, Hannah, Albert and Marvin.” I pointed at the chairs beside me and the other kids stared. Even Drew raised his head to look at me in amazement. “Hannah joined me when I was thirteen. She was a kitchen maid. She was nineteen, and she was pregnant with her boss’s child. She died having the baby. Albert joined me when I was fourteen. He was a soldier in World War II. He died on the stretcher after getting a serious shrapnel injury. And Marvin only joined me earlier this year. He was homeless after losing his house because of his gambling debts. He died of hypothermia during a cold snap.”

Patience’s eyes looked like horrified saucers as she stared at the empty chairs beside me. After a moment, Mona let out a shuddering breath and even contemptuous Cassie looked impressed. Gabe sat watching me curiously, as if he didn’t expect quite what he was seeing or hearing.

“You’re a Necromancer,” nodded Ms Deering.

Necro … doesn’t that mean dead?” asked Mona.

“And mancy is magic, or conjuring,” affirmed Ms Deering. “Mimi calls the dead.”

“I call them?” I couldn’t help exclaiming. “I never called them! I don’t want them around!”

Ms Deering just smiled ruefully. “I don’t think you can help it. I didn’t mean you actively call them––I meant you bring them … attract them. You invite their spirits to make contact.”

“Why?” I asked.

“The million-dollar question,” Mona laughed shortly, dragging her eyes off the empty chairs beside me. “Why do any of us have these gifts?”

“Can you hear them?” Patience asked me, her face still terrified. Great. She was freaked out. Oh, well … at least she didn’t think I was crazy.

“Yes,” I said. “That’s how I know what happened to them.” My mind drifted towards some of the other things they’d said to me and I hastily changed my train of thought. “They used to talk more, but I started trying to ignore them so they stopped being so … chatty.”

Mona cackled at that. I decided I wouldn’t mention the medication I had been taking to help me “ignore” my ghosts. I could feel Drew still watching me, so I looked back at him. I badly wanted to ask him why he looked so stunned. I also wanted to ask him what his gift was. But I couldn’t form a sentence because his face was so painfully beautiful in that moment that I forgot to breathe and just stared.

“Drew,” Ms Deering said in a firm tone. “Please tell us about you.”

Drew snapped out of our little two-way staring contest and cast an angry look at Ms Deering before getting up and shouldering his satchel.

 

When Drew first meets Mimi (Drew’s Point of View)

 

Homeroom. Nine a.m.

It had been a bad weekend. I didn’t want to think about it. I buried my face in a book; the Thomas Hardy I’d picked up at the Granary Market book exchange. I was trying to get into that zone where nothing could distract me, but the other kids in Homeroom were being particularly noisy.

No one was talking to me; I’d been liberal with the black and white warpaint that morning, plus I’d put on an extra spiky collar and had even considered some satanic chains; except that Patience always freaked when I wore those. I thought I might get some facial piercings. Most people wouldn’t even look at your face for any length of time if you had piercings there. That could be useful.

There was a new kid in class. I didn’t look at her but I knew it was a girl and figured she must be pretty because Gabe was using his manly, friendly, I’ll show you the ropes voice, and Cassie was being a bitch. Despite my best efforts to shut them out, I could hear them talking about their gifts – covertly, of course, but the four of us in the room who were in on the gifted thing knew what it was about. Gabe joked with Cassie to “call off the dogs,” and then Ms Deering and Gabe had some oh-so-witty repartee about how talent is often accompanied by ego.

I couldn’t deny that. Gabe was evidence of it. But I was pissed off at how blasé Ms Deering was being about it all … as usual. She never tried to check him, or any of the others, when they experimented with their gifts. After what I’d seen on the weekend, I knew with more certainty than ever that these gifts were not to be played with. In fact, I didn’t even think they were gifts anymore. I had started to think of them as curses. I hated that Ms Deering was always encouraging them – us – to use them.

Normally I stayed quiet when they made sneaky comments about their gifts in front of the other kids at school. I tried to take the high road. But because of my weekend, I was feeling raw. I couldn’t resist throwing a spanner into their self-satisfied little chat. Without consciously deciding to do it, and without even lifting my head, I suggested Gabe and Ms Deering should consider that sometimes there was ego even when there was no talent. I didn’t seem to get a rise out of either of them, but Cassie bit, asking me what the hell I meant in that shrieky voice she reserves for me. I pride myself on being able to push Cassie’s buttons – mind you, just about anyone can push Cassie’s buttons.

“Maybe there are some people at Etherall Valley that think they have talent but are actually just royally lame or garden-variety screwed up?” I said. God, that was satisfying.

I hoped Ms Deering was listening. She didn’t like it. She made one of her typical positive values remarks that meant nothing and inevitably got ignored. She didn’t understand that teenagers don’t give a shit about being reminded to use “respectful” language or “show accountability.”

Gabe was quiet. I wanted to catch a look at his face to see if I’d got at him, but when I looked up my eyes didn’t make it past the new girl.

Oh, my god. It’s her.

There she was; the girl whose face had haunted me since I saw it a year or so ago. The perfect fair skin; the dark, almost black hair spilling over her shoulders; and the serious mouth – a mouth that shouldn’t be serious. A mouth so red and soft I’d been fantasising about kissing it and making it smile since I first saw it. Her grey eyes regarded me solemnly as I fought my reaction; tried to hide it. I had to pretend I was neutral – pretend I wasn’t interested in her – and not let her become in the least interested in me. I had to be nothing to her. The battle inside me was physically painful. All I wanted to do was take a long drink at the sight of this living, breathing girl looking back into my eyes across the ordinary classroom desks; and what I knew I had to do was not look, not betray what I was thinking and feeling; not connect.

I dragged my eyes off her and stared down at my book, the words swimming on the page. Meanwhile her heavenly face seared itself across my heart like a branding iron on a bullock’s tender hide.

 

Author Bio:

 

S.D. Wasley was born and raised in Perth, Western Australia.

She has been composing literary works since before she could write – at five years of age she announced her first poem in the kitchen, improv-style. Today, she lives in the Swan Valley wine region with her two daughters, surrounded by dogs, cats and chickens.

 

The Seventh is S.D. Wasley’s debut novel.
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Review and Giveaway of Stolen Time by Angela Rae Harris

Review and Giveaway of Stolen Time by Angela Rae Harris


Stolen Time Banner

Genre: New Adult Paranormal

Publisher: Tri Destiny Publishing

Blurb:

Tragedy has made Keaira wise beyond her twenty years. Forced to work for the General, a commanding man who blackmailed his way into her life, she was ordered to study self-defense and master knife throwing. In the hidden community of Shifters, falcons are considered weak, a fact which may ultimately save her life. To escape his cruelty, she will need to call upon her quick-witted falcon side, but the General has other plans – ones which involve his only son, Carson.

When unexpected feelings form between Keaira and Carson, the General quickly moves his pieces into place, launching his quest to take over the world. If she wants to survive, Keaira must stay one step ahead in the General’s deadly game and discover his weaknesses. Even if it means risking her life and the lives of those she cares about most.

With war on the horizon, sides are being drawn.  Deadly secrets must be exposed. Time is running out for Keaira and all of mankind.

Excerpt:

Keaira jumped when her desk phone rang. Cursing, she picked up the phone.

“Mr. Scott’s office.”

“Hey, it’s Carson.”

Keaira felt her face light up.

“Oh. Hi. How did you get my work number?” Keaira shook her head at her own stupid question. “Ugh, I think I already knew the answer to that.”

“Sorry. I talked to my dad this morning. Just thought I’d warn you that he was asking questions about us.” He sounded a little unsure of himself.

“It’s not a big deal. So, what’s up?”

Keaira twirled her chair around to stare at the boring white wall behind her.

“I was just going to tell you I’d really like to see you again. How does tomorrow night sound?”

Keaira pushed her foot lightly against the floor to turn the chair the way around and rested her elbows on her desk. The deep sound of his voice made her feel a little light headed.

“I’m free.” Keaira caught herself before she giggled. I will not act like a giddy little school-girl over a guy, even Carson.

“Dinner and bowling with my friends all right with you?” He sounded nervous, not at all like the confident, easy-going Carson of the night before.

“Sounds like fun.”

“Last time you shot down my idea, so I just wanted to make sure. I’ll pick you up after work.” Now he was back to the cocky Carson she had been with last night.

“See ya then. Bye.”

Keaira turned back around to hang up, but the cord wouldn’t reach the cradle. She untangled it from around the chair and freed the finger that was all wrapped up in the cord from twisting it while she was talking to Carson. Gah, I am acting like a school-girl. Who doesn’t use cordless phones these days anyways.

Keaira was so distracted she didn’t see Mr. Scott come into her office. She nearly fell out of her chair when she looked up. She could understand not hearing or seeing him enter, but surely she should have smelled his cologne when he came into the room. I hate that cologne.

He tried to smile. To Keaira it just looked like a sneer. She’d love to be the one who wiped it from his face one day.

He said, “Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. He knew damn well she had just been on the phone with Carson.

“Not interrupting, no.”

He set a handful of papers on her desk. “New membership information.”

Keaira took the papers and started looking through them. Despite her obvious attempt to ignore him, the General didn’t leave. She avoided his gaze as she started transferring bank accounts and phone numbers to the computer. He pulled up a chair to the front of the desk.

“So how are things going with Carson?”

He unbuttoned his navy-blue suit jacket as he sat down, exposing the crisp white dress shirt underneath.

Keaira didn’t look at him.

“Considering you are my boss and he is your son, there are two strikes against you. I guess the fact that you hold my life in your hands is the third reason why I will not talk to you about anything having to do with me and Carson.”

The General chuckled. “I knew I could trust you to keep secrets.”

Keaira tried not to let him affect her, but the tremor, which ran up her spine, couldn’t be stopped. Her fingers clenched into fists, and she figured that while he was in a good mood she would broach the subject that had been nagging at her all day.

“Speaking of secrets, why are you keeping your, um, plans from your family?”

She held her breath, hoping she would not regret acting on her curiosity. She peered at him out of the corner of her eye.

The General sighed and looked at her oddly. Funny, he thinks he can trust me. Keaira inwardly laughed. She met his brown eyes as he stared at her. A minute passed with neither of them moving. He finally leaned back in his chair and closed the door. Keaira relaxed a bit, allowing herself to breathe.

“I don’t want to put them in harm’s way any more than I already have. Those who deny the rise of the higher class may try to get information out of them.”

He spoke quickly. Keaira had the feeling he wasn’t telling her the whole reason.

Not being the best at holding her tongue, Keaira whispered, “You don’t want them to try to stop you.”

The General suddenly stood and then returned the chair to its place in the corner. He turned back toward Keaira, and she slumped into her chair as his brown eyes bore into hers.

“I love my family. I will not let anything hurt them.” He gave her one last hard glance as he opened the office door and left.

Keaira sat there, mouth wide open and watched him leave.

She believed the General loved his family but on selfish terms. This man was insane, and he held her life and the lives of many others in his hands. If it were not for the collateral the General had over Keaira, she would want nothing to do with his scheme to rule over the humans. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she reminded herself he had the ability to take any life he wanted. She wasn’t the only one in danger. Right now she was just thankful her big mouth didn’t get her into even bigger trouble.

authorinterview

Top ten things you don’t know about me:

1. Cotton or Silk?

Silk sheets, cotton clothes.

2.  Champagne/beer/wine?

I’m not a drinker but I do love my Coca Cola.

3.  Plotter/pantser

I don’t like to call myself a plotter even though I write an outline for each of my books. I still let the characters talk to me and if something changes I don’t hesitate to listen to what they have to say.

4.  Describe your workspace

Most days it is sitting on the couch in the living room with my five-year-old running around and my three-year-old seeing the laptop as competition as he tries to climb on my lap. One day I might have an office but for right now I’ll take what I can get. J

5.  Sports fan or just tolerate it?

I grew up watching football and basketball with my dad all weekend every weekend. In high school I had to explain to the boys what was happening on the field. I’m a Colts fan but I love Manning so I root for the Broncos too.

6.  Who is your biggest influence on writing?

I would have to say J.K. Rowling because Harry Potter gave me the reading bug and I wouldn’t be writing today if I hadn’t discovered J.K. Rowling’s wizarding world.

7.  Favorite food –

Ice Cream – Any kind of ice cream. J
8.  When did you start writing?

About two years ago. I started reading more and my imagination began to create its own stories. I started writing them down when these stories started interrupting my sleep schedule.

9.  If money were no object, where would you like to live?

New Zealand. They have two of my favorite things in one place: the ocean and the mountains.
10.  What’s next for you?

I’m working on the next book in The Time Series getting it ready for a spring release.

Thank you for having me! I hope your readers enjoy Stolen Time.

bookreview

Pink here…I loved this book and hated it at the same time.  What I loved about it was that even though it was New Adult, it didn’t have the angst that I’m beginning to hate in all New Adult books.  I mean really…no one and I mean NO ONE is that broken, emotional crippled, etc. that they can’t find their way out without the help of a girlfriend/boyfriend.  Ugh.  No thanks.  What’s the difference in Stolen Time?  The characters and they way that Ms. Harris wrote them.  Yes, Keiara had problems.  Losing her boyfriend in a horrific car wreck when everything was going so well.  But she pulled up her boot straps and got on with living.

Okay, so the life wasn’t all that great but she wasn’t dependent on another man to bring her happiness in and out of her bed.  In fact, that is another great thing about the book.  There is no sex at all.  A little kissing and maybe some petting (as Harlie says) but nothing that your grandmother can’t read.  The crux of the story is how Keiara came under the somewhat misguidance of the General and how that all played out.

What I didn’t like was this…ITS A PREQUEL and now I have to wait for the next book.  Grrr….  The ending was surprising and left me on pins and needles.  I don’t have a clue when the next book will be out but trust me, I will be buying it and reading it.  I loved Keiara, the General’s son Carson and what’s with the family that can’t leave?  Too many unanswered questions but at the same time, questions were answered.

Again, Grrrr but AWESOMESAUCE, too.  I’m picky about my PNR but I will definitely be looking for the next book from Ms. Harris.

Totally stole...again!  Harlie's NOT happy!

Totally stole…again! Harlie’s NOT happy!

5harlies

About the author:Angela Rae Harris Author Picutre

Angela Rae Harris:  Stories of Hope ~ Creating Dreams

Angela is an author, a wife, mother of two, and a part-time assistant office manager. She loves nights when her husband cooks. Her two kids keep her hopping and help her tap into her well of creativity and imagination.

At thirteen, Angela read Harry Potter and was reacquainted with books. She reads everything from Steven King to Will Hobbs. She started writing after her youngest was born. The characters started to visit and wouldn’t let her sleep until she wrote down their stories.

She’d love for people to get lost in her books.

Website/Blog / Facebook Fan Page / Twitter / Goodreads

Book Links:

Amazon / Amazon U.K. / Barnes & Noble / Smashwords / Goodreads

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Ebooks of Stolen Time
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