Monday, March 31, 2014

Cover Reveal! 'Aqua' by M.A. George

By M.A. George
Genre- YA Paranormal 
Expected Publication Date- April 16th, 2014 

Meet Layla McKelland: 
Novelist (unpublished, but cut her some slack…seventeen is a bit early to despair), 
Slightly neurotic introvert (Alright, let’s be honest…there’s no “slightly” about it), 
International Woman of Mystery, and…
Okay, just scratch the bio.

The only real “mystery” in Layla’s life is why her father has never been on the scene. Or why her mother drags Layla to a new coastal home every year. 

Nothing about the latest hometown seems too newsworthy…until a routine day at the beach leaves Layla questioning whether she’s read one too many paranormal fantasy novels. The plot thickens when a random guy claims to know things about her father—a bizarre claim he backs up with an equally impossible stunt. And Layla soon finds herself on the wrong side of a mysterious attempted drowning…on her own kitchen floor.

When all is done, Layla will attest that fact is far stranger than fiction. And nothing in real life is ever as transparent as it seems…Not even water.

Especially not water.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

'First Impression' by Pauline Creeden FB Event with Release Day Diva 3/31

Chira Kelly thought she didn’t need anyone…until she met Ben.

Because of one ugly rumor, Chira lives as an outcast at her school. Which is fine with her, because she works better alone. Always has, always will. And at least she has her one and only true friend, Tasha. When Tasha insists that they join a group to visit a possibly haunted abandoned old schoolhouse, she's wary, but joins her friend. Because of that decision, their lives are in jeopardy as a malevolent spirit targets the group. Tragedies and accidents pick them off one by one, and Chira finds herself drawn to the one person who can see the truth. But can he protect her?

Join the event!! We will be having some Harry Potter themed fun on Monday from 7-9 EST!!

Author Bio:
In simple language, Pauline Creeden creates worlds that are both familiar and strange, often pulling the veil between dimensions. She becomes the main character in each of her stories, and because she has ADD, she will get bored if she pretends to be one person for too long. Pauline is a horse trainer from Virginia, but writing is her therapy. Her books have hit #1 on the Amazon Bestseller List and Armored Hearts won the 2013 Book Junkie’s Choice Award in Historical Fiction. First Impression: A Shadow Maven Paranormal is her first mystery. It’s a dark urban fantasy and will be released March 24, 2014.

 Goodreads Link: \

Goodreads Book Giveaway

First Impression by Pauline Creeden

First Impression

by Pauline Creeden

Giveaway ends April 30, 2014.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter to win
 She rips my hall pass from her pad and points it toward the young man sitting across from her desk. “Chira Kelley, meet Ben Oscuro. He’s new here and needs someone to show him around. It just so happens he’s also a member of class 18B.”
I finally focus on the boy. He doesn’t look up at me, and his disheveled dark hair is just long enough that it hides his eyes. But he pushes himself up from his chair, and his slim form towers over me. He’s at least six-feet-two and his uniform is almost as crumpled as his hair. He swings his backpack onto a strong, square shoulder and nibbles his full bottom lip. His smooth olive skin and dark hair make him look like a foreign rocker, and there’s something about him that seems vaguely familiar.
“Here’s a copy of his class schedule. When you’re not in the same class, I want you to leave a few minutes early and help him find the next class room. That’s your job for today. Got it?”
I swallow back and resist sniffling again. Taking the hall pass and the copy of the schedule from her, I say, “Um…sure.”
“Excellent. Robin, you’re off the hook.”
The office aide pumps a fist in the air before returning to file more papers in the cabinet. The secretary’s chair squeals a dismissal, and Mrs. Campbell picks up her phone, returning to her duties without another word.
Ben pulls open the office door and stands to the side to allow me to go first. The hallway that was empty only a short while ago is now full of students and their continuous conversations. With a shrug, I eye his class schedule quickly. Except for second and sixth period, we have exactly the same schedule. He’s in all of the advanced classes, too. Only he has gym for second period and Latin for sixth – opposite of my schedule, except I take French.
Piece of cake.
I glance up at him again, and his eyes meet mine. My breath hitches. His intense gaze makes me feel like he’s measuring me. The dark pools of his eyes seem deep and bottomless, but there’s something strange about them. They’re brown, but he has colored contacts. Why would anyone color their eyes brown?
My heart flutters. A sniffle escapes me before I can stop it. Ugh. I clear my throat and start in the direction of first period. “Follow me.”
We elbow our way down the freshman hall toward the second floor, but before we start up I point down the way. “Do you know what your locker number is?”
Ben nods and pushes his backpack on his shoulder farther.
I wait for a second and then smile. “What is it?”
“706.” He has a slight accent, and his voice is deeper than I expect. I suppress a shiver at the jolt the musical timbre of his voice sends through my body. I’m resonating like a tuning fork. I really want him to speak again with every fiber of my being. What’s with me?
“Uh…okay.” I swallow, trying to regain composure. I take him to the general area of the locker. “Here it is.”
He looks at it, nods, and returns his hard gaze to me. Is he always so stiff? Probably just nerves from being new.
“I know you don’t have any books to put in it, but do you want to try out the combination?”
He lifts one shoulder in a shrug and spins the combo quickly through the three numbers. I purposefully avert my eyes so he knows I’m not peeking. He opens the locker wide, nods toward me, and then closes it again.
“Great. We have first period over here.”
“You and I have the same first period?”
My body vibrates again, and I blink hard. So glad my back was to him so he couldn’t see the effect his voice has on me. I swallow and face him. “Actually, yeah. Our schedules are very similar. It’s a smallish school, so there’re only a few tracks that juniors can be on.”
He nods, and his eyes are half lidded as if he’s bored already.
I lead him toward our classroom. “We don’t really have assigned seats, so you can pretty much sit anywhere you want. I’ll show you to the gym at the end of class. I have French next, but it’s not too far from there.” 
I lead him to the front of the class, and my friend Tasha gives me a wan smile and raises her eyebrows, looking back and forth between me and Ben. She mouths, Who’s that?
I roll my eyes and put up one finger toward her to let her know I’ll tell her in a minute. Then I turn to the teacher. I hand him the schedule from the office. “Hi, Mr. Scott, this is Ben Oscuro, a transfer.”
Mr. Scott’s kind blue eyes smile at us both. He sets down the Mountain Dew he was drinking and offers Ben a wide grin. He puts a hand out for him to shake. Ben hesitates but takes the hand in what looks like a firm grip. Mr. Scott shakes his hand afterward. “That’s some grip you’ve got there.” He laughs and leans down to the bottom drawer of his desk and hands Ben a geography text book.
With a nod, I return to Tasha and squeeze into the desk next to hers. I’m at Jackson Hall partially on my father’s insurance money partially on scholarship because my stepdad works at the school. What he does, I don’t know, because I’ve never seen him. Because of all this, I’m somewhat of a social pariah. My only real friend is Tasha Brown, a pariah herself, being one of the few African-American kids in the school. Still she tends to be more popular than me, because at least her family has the money they’ve made in the night club and music business. But then there’s that rumor…
“So who is the new hottie?” Tasha hops up and down in her seat.
I shake my head at her. “You are one big hormone, you know that? Sure, he’s cute, but is there any guy in the room you don’t consider a hottie?”
Tasha scans the room with her hand on her chin and a very serious expression on her face. Her hair is in the typical pigtail braids she usually uses to play up the uniform. She has on no sweater, and her shirt is one size too small, the buttonholes at the front  stretched to expose part of her red bra. Finally she returns her gaze to me. “There’s only one guy in here that doesn’t rank hottie.”
“Really? Who?”
She leans in conspiratorially and whispers, “Mr. Scott.”
I nearly choke on a laugh as I eye the middle-aged, balding teacher at the front of the room. But I have to admit, Jackson Hall is a prep school. And there's no one who can afford to make their children look their best more than the wealthy. I guess if I take my father’s words to heart, it’s better to be the poor kid in the rich kids’ school…than the other way around. Right?
Tasha’s smile returns, and I follow her gaze to figure out why. Ben Oscuro walks down the aisle between us and takes the desk right behind mine. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He smells like pine and mint, and it reminds me of the outdoors. When I open them again, Tasha’s smile has grown impossibly wider. She leans towards me and whispers, “What was that you said about hormones again?”
I shove my elbow toward her, but she dodges me with a giggle.

 Hope to see you all there!!

Brought to you by the Release Day Diva


Saturday, March 29, 2014

Of Inspiration by Louise Caiola, author of 'The Making of Nebraska Brown'

Of Inspiration 

A rolling pink Western sky. A robin at the feeder. The crescendo of waves breaking on the shore. Bet you thought I was going to name these beauties and others as points of writing inspiration. And why wouldn’t they be? Who among us creative-type would not find those scenes particularly motivational? Yet, exploring and exploiting nature are just a fraction of where we can seek out the Muse. As I’ve said before, I am a shower-thinker. Water acts as a conductor of literary energy for me. I have a writer-friend who finds soaking in a tub to be the ticket to inspirational heaven. Ahh, those blessed bubbles.

Sometimes however, our days are thick with the mundane details of life. The trips to the dry cleaners. The fender-benders. The dental exam. No time to de-stress. Barely time to breathe. Where then do we find inspiration during moments like this? Through the years I have learned to find the literal lemonade in the lemons by employing the use of my senses. It’s actually quite easy to do. Look around you. Right now. What do you see? I see my pup lounging on the carpet in fingers of sunshine splayed through the window glass. Listen. What do you hear? I hear the soft steady ticking of the clock in the hallway, reminding me that time is a constant presence. Inhale. What do you smell? I smell the soapy-fresh condensation seeping under the bathroom door after my son has finished washing. Go to your kitchen. Open the fridge. What can you taste, right this second? How about the snap of an apple skin as its sweet juice slides down your chin? And touch. This one is the simplest of all. Lay your hands on that old chenille spread that once belonged to Grandma. Or that soft denim jacket you can’t bear to part with, you know, the one you’ve had since high school.

There are stories in each of those examples. Potential scenes. Possible fabric for that chapter you’re working on that needs a little something more. These aren’t just the trappings of the mundane. They can be the details of inspiration. You only need to adjust your view.

New Adult Mystery
Date Published:

The last thing eighteen-year-old Ann Leigh remembers is running from her boyfriend in a thick Nebraska cornfield. This morning she’s staring down a cool Italian sunrise, an entire continent from the life she once knew. The events of the eighteen months in between have inexplicably gone missing from her memory.

All at once she’s living with Tommy, an attractive, young foreigner asking for her continued love. Though he’s vaguely familiar, she recalls a boy named Shane in America who she reluctantly agreed to marry. Juggling a new world while her old one is still M.I.A is difficult enough without the terrifying movie scenes spinning a dizzy loop in her mind: glimpses of a devastating house fire, a romance gone wrong, an unplanned pregnancy, and a fractured family – each claiming to be part of who she once was – a girl and a past somehow discarded.

Ann Leigh must collect the pieces of herself to become whole again, but she doesn’t know who to trust especially when Tommy’s lies become too obvious to ignore. And above all, her heart aches to discover what became of the child she may or may not have given birth to.

The Making of Nebraska Brown tells the story of one girl’s coming apart from the inside and the great lengths she’ll go to reclaim herself and find her way home.

Read an excerpt:
He was kissing me, and I couldn’t make it stop. His breath smelled like radishes; I wanted to vomit. He kept saying how he was crazy about me. I wanted to will myself deaf. Instead, I picked a fight. Pretended I was angry about him having to work at the restaurant on my birthday. I didn’t care all that much. It was just an excuse to pull away, turn away from him. I imagined soon I would make an escape, leave my whole life behind, go to Hollywood, or Asia or France or New York. 
He took my shoulders and spun me around. Then he reached down into the pocket of his jeans. Said he was planning to do this more creatively. But no matter, he was doing it anyway. Dropped down on one knee in the dry, grimy roadway. He said if I say yes I would make him happier than a pig in a mud puddle. Said he would die trying to make me happier than that for eternity. 
Were pigs happy in mud? Or was that some bullshit myth? How can a person ever know? 
I watched two fat, sloppy tears steamroll down his cheeks. I whispered his name. Shane. 
Mom said it’s a real man, with a real love for a woman, that’ll cry for her. And she’s smart enough for me to believe her. With the palm of his hand, he swiped at his face. The nub shot me a wave. Say it, Ann Leigh. Say you will. He was begging, pleading. Both knees on the ground now. Yes, I’ll marry you, Shane. I will. He rose, pushed his mouth on mine. I tasted radishes. I wanted to puke. This must be what true love feels like.

Buy links

About Louise Caiola

As a young girl who spent her allowance on Nancy Drew mysteries, Louise realized that one day, she might have a story of her own to tell. Maybe even more than one story. After years focused on raising her children she eventually reconnected with her passion for creative writing. She soon began to craft a large collection of short stories which were published in the inspirational online magazine, Shortly thereafter, she authored her first novel, Wishless, a contemporary YA, released in 2011.

Louise devotes a portion of each day to honing her skills. She has several other novels currently in various stages of development. A confirmed bibliophile, Louise enjoys reading outdoors on a warm spring day and watching her pup chase leaves on a breeze. She looks forward to meeting others who share her love of the written word and invites you to visit her blog, her website and follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

Twitter: &

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

'Twelve Steps' by Veronica Bartles Release Day Blitz!

Twelve Steps
by Veronica Bartles
Release Date: 03/25/14

Book Summary:

Sixteen-year-old Andi is tired of being a second-class sibling to perfect sister Laina. There in Laina's shadow, Andi's only noticeable feature is her pretty awesome hair. And even that is eclipsed by Laina's perfect everything else.

When Andi’s crush asks her to fix him up with Laina, Andi decides enough is enough and devises a twelve-step program to wrangle the spotlight away from Laina. After all, great hair must count for something.

Step 1: Admit she’s powerless to change her perfect sister, and accept that her life really, really sucks. OK, maybe that's two steps in one.

Step 4: Make a list of her good qualities besides great hair. There have got to be at least three good qualities, right?

Step 7: Demand attention for more than just her shortcomings, and break out of her shell. Easier said that done, but worth the effort in the long-run. 

When a stolen kiss from her crush ends in disaster, Andi finds that her prince isn’t as charming as she'd hoped, and realizes she may need a new program--perhaps with less steps!

As cracks in Laina’s flawless façade begin to show, the sisters work together to find a spotlight big enough for both to shine.

Read an excerpt:
“I really am sorry you’re so upset. You can yell at me, if it helps,” Laina says.

Of course I’m not going to yell at her. But obviously, I can’t tell her about Jarod’s visit this afternoon either. If she ever stopped being so clueless and realized he’s in love with her, I’d lose any hope of a chance with him.

I swallow hard and sit up, crossing my legs and leaning against the headboard. “You should be sorry. You’d think a straight-A student like you would be smart enough to realize that Oreos cannot be properly devoured without the requisite glass of milk.” I frown and stare at my empty hands, as if waiting for milk to magically appear.

“Oops!” Laina jumps up, giggling, and races out of the room.

I feel the slightest twinge of guilt over manipulating her compulsive need to please people, but sometimes Laina’s neuroses totally come in handy. And right now, I really need a few minutes to plan my next move. Thomas Jefferson’s advice about being cool and unruffled is perfect in almost every situation, but sometimes life requires a little bit of carefully-constructed drama. And if I’m going to get ungrounded in time to show Jarod he’s going after the wrong sister, this is definitely one of those times.

Laina returns a few minutes later and hands me a tall glass of cold milk. I carefully twist open an Oreo and lick out the crème filling before dunking the cookie part into my milk.

“Okay, now will you tell me what’s bothering you?” Laina asks.

I blink back a few well-timed tears. “Nothing. I’m fine. Really.” I dissect another cookie.

“Come on. You can tell me.”

I take a deep, shaky breath and set the cup and the decimated cookie on my nightstand. Then, I shrug and pick at imaginary balls of lint on my quilt.

Laina wraps an arm around me and pulls me in for a protective, big-sister hug. “Talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

I shake my head and pull away. “I’m just so tired of being grounded. You’d think they could overlook one silly, little D. I still have a B average, and who cares about biology anyway?” I frown and look up at her through droopy eyelashes. “What’s it like, being the favorite child?”

About the Author

As the second of eight children and the mother of four, Veronica Bartles is no stranger to the ups and downs of sibling relationships. (She was sandwiched between the gorgeous-and-insanely-popular older sister and the too-adorable-for-words younger sister.) She uses this insight to write stories about siblings who mostly love each other, even while they’re driving one another crazy.   When she isn’t writing or getting lost in the pages of her newest favorite book, Veronica enjoys knitting fabulous bags and jewelry out of recycled plastic bags and old VHS tapes, sky diving (though she hasn’t actually tried that yet), and inventing the world’s most delectable cookie recipes.  TWELVE STEPS is Veronica Bartles's first novel.

Author Links:
 photo iconwebsite-32x32_zps1f477f69.png   photo iconfacebook-32x32_zps64a79d4a.png

1 ebook of Twelve Steps & $10 Amazon gift card (INT)
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Book Blitz Organized by:

'Awaken (Daughters of the Sea #2)' by Kristen Day

Daughters of the Sea Book #2
By Kristen Day

The sacrifices we make have the power to shift the very fabric of who we are, and ultimately who we are meant to be…

After learning of her true destiny as the intended Leader of the Tydes, Anastasia Whitman must now embark on a perilous quest to the Underworld before the age of eighteen in order to plant the seed of immortality and complete her essence to become a true Sea Goddess. But before she can make her legendary journey, an unexpected new student transfers to Lorelei; initiating a sequence of events that will unravel Stasia’s new life, and test the boundaries of her relationship with the mysterious, dark, and sexy Finn Morrison. The line between the Underworld and the Living begins to blur as gruesome ghosts, morbid reveries, and pure evil haunt her waking hours as well as her sanity. Once the details of Finn’s own startling destiny are revealed, the dangerous secrets he’s been hiding will threaten the very love Stasia believed to be indestructible. As time begins to run out, she will be forced to choose between the one she loves and the destiny she cannot escape.


Monday, March 24, 2014

'The Eight Walls of Rogar (The Lost Kingdom of Laotswend Trilogy #1)' by William Woodward


The Eight Walls of Rogar is the first book in The Lost Kingdoms of Laotswend trilogy, its pages chronicling the adventures and coming-of-age of a rather bookish young man named Andaris Rocaren. The story unfolds in the weeks following Andaris’ seventeenth name day: Desperate to escape a life of meaningless drudgery behind the plow, he leaves the safety of his secluded valley town and ventures alone into the uncharted depths of an ancient forest, the heart of which is said to be twisted and black. Choosing to ignore the counsel of his more sensible nature, he is drawn ever onward, lured by the tantalizing splendor of distant mountains, the sheer peaks of which purportedly stand sentinel over a land long steeped in mystery.

What ensues is more remarkable than anything even he could have envisioned. Andaris goes looking for adventure.... What he finds is a world in the midst of tidal change, an extraordinary place where he encounters all manner of extraordinary things—vast landscapes teeming with flora and fauna capable of firing the most malnourished of imaginations. To be sure, danger lurks around every bend, a heady amalgam of sword and sorcery which threatens to bring his young life to an abrupt end. Indeed, if not for a very fortuitous encounter, namely the crossing of paths with a band of travelers who turn out to be much more than meets the eye, it surely would have. Gaven, Ashel, and Trilla seem fated to become fast friends, the sort of companions he’d always wanted, but never thought he’d have.

The Lost One and his army of shapelings are preparing to march against Rogar’s western border—the only thing standing between them and the green, fertile lands to the East. The balance of power is shifting. Despite the debt of blood owed them by their Sokerran neighbors, the Alderi Shune fear they will be made to stand alone. No one speaks of defeat, but it is on the tip of every tongue. For the first time since they were erected, more than a thousand years ago, the impossible is about to happen: The Eight Walls of Rogar are about to fall. The scales could tip in either direction, depending, oddly enough, on the choices of a rather bookish young man named Andaris Rocaren.

You will forgive me, intrepid reader, if I now take the opportunity to formally invite you to join in the fun, to accompany young Andaris and his fellows into and out of the kingdoms of Nelvin, Mindere, Sokerra, and Rogar. Over hill, dell, and stream you shall go, hiking through rugged mountain ranges heavy with snow, into subterranean catacombs whose unplumbed fathoms are illumined by naught but the guttering flames of your makeshift torch, until you reach, at long last, and in just the nick of time, the battered gates of a once great civilization on the brink of war.

Light and shadow become one,
Mingling close beneath blood-red sun,
Clockwork toys begin to play,
A forgotten march from another day,

Towers stand on border sand,
Watchful eyes on troubled land,
Swords are drawn against the night,
Man and beast join the fight,

A stranger walks the chosen path,
Through dreaded storm and Lost One’s wrath,
The faithful heed the ancient call,
Stone and earth break and fall,

Bones will crack and spears will splinter,
As the world is cast into eternal winter,
Tears will fill a roiling sea,
Until the stranger comes and sets us free.

2:16 from the book of prophecy

Read an excerpt:
“He moves like a serpent!” Gaven huffed, drawing first their attention then their concern.

Trilla’s mouth pinched shut with worry for him. The other man was both cunning and agile, and Gaven was obviously tiring. Sweat poured from his brow, and he was sucking wind like a leaky bellows. If Gaven could just hit him it would all be over, but each time he came close the man sidestepped, rust-colored braid flying through the air, confident sneer never faltering.

Gaven cried out as the curving steel bit into his shoulder, as it sliced through his leather armor into the corded muscle beneath. With his face contorting in fear and rage, he rammed into the man and bulled him over, knocking the scimitar free. Counting on his opponent’s split-second reflexes, Gaven stabbed to the left as the man began to roll, planting his blade like a tree of metal through the center of his chest into the ground. The man lay there with astonishment in his eyes, spitting blood and grasping at the sides of Gaven’s sword. He struggled to speak, convulsed, and with a sickening gurgle, died.

About the author:

Consider yourself officially warned, intrepid reader, for what follows is a most unconventional biography, otherwise known as Abstract observations on the Enigmatic Process of Storytelling. The more conventional bit is contained within the following eleven sentences: Mr. Woodward is forty-two years old. He lives in a little town called Blank Texas with his wife, son, three cats, three dogs, and six chickens. He lived in Dallas Texas for the first thirty-six years of his life, but had always yearned for the peace and quiet of the country, both of which, between the cats, dogs, and chickens, eludes him to this day.

Mr. Woodward is currently working on a fantasy/adventure trilogy called "The Lost Kingdoms of Laotswend." He has finished the first two books, and will begin the third when he feels he is unable to do otherwise. The first book is called, "The Eight Walls of Rogar." The second is called, "The Stair of Time." They are available for physical sale through Authorhouse, Barnes and Noble, and no doubt other, less established sources. They are also available for electronic download via Kindle Direct Publishing. And that's about it. As Mr. Woodward likely finds the details of his life even less interesting than you do, this concludes the conventional portion of the biography. All strictly sane people are more than welcome to stop reading here.

As for the rest of us: much to the aforementioned author's unending consternation, he is one of those people who writes because he is compelled to do so, regardless of monetary compensation or societal validation. During the initial creation process, he has the distinct impression that his flagging mind serves as little more than a conduit for the transference of information, the source of which hails from strange and distant shores, demanding his attention. If you should read one of his books, you can be certain of one thing above all else: he has poured the entirety of himself into each and every page, spending countless hours to make the story as good as his will and mental wherewithal are able--which is to say, not nearly as good as he'd like.

To him, the cadence and rhythm of the words are almost as important as the tale itself, each sentence possessing the "potential" to ascend to a higher literary plane, to, in essence, become more than the sum of its parts. What is writing, after all? We all know that, among many, many other things, it is symbols on a page which represent sounds. Fewer of us have thought of, or will agree with, this: when fortuitously penned, these symbols have the capacity to ring in the mind like music. On those rare occasions when everything comes together just right (often by chance), when the timing, volume, and pitch of the words swell into a kind of orchestral splendor, the text is given the power to stir the soul, making it possible for a sort of magic to ensue--the golden ratio of writing, if you will. In this way, a page of lyrical text literally becomes not just music to the ears, but also to the mind.

Now, before you go, Mr. Woodward would like to leave you with a parting thought: should you do him the great honor of cracking open one of his novels, the entirety of which was written in the dim and dusty confines of a cozy little study, try to do so with a glad heart, surrendering fully to that childlike wonder most of us once knew so well. For whether it's climbing to the top of forested mountains, or exploring the depths of subterranean ruins, Mr. Woodward firmly believes that this can transform the experience of "curling up with a good book" from merely entertaining, to sublime.

'Glory Days' by Patrick Szabo

Glory Days - PROMO Blitz
By Patrick Szabo
Young Adult / Coming of Age
Date Published: March 3, 2014

Matt is heading into his senior year of high school and has the world at his feet.

School comes easy for him. He’s the lead guitar player in a hard rock band, about to embark on their first gig. He has a job he likes, a car he doesn’t, a best friend he hopes to be friendlier with, and a pretty good set of parents. He has it all.

Until he doesn’t.

His dad suddenly begins acting strange and keeping odd hours. Matt has his own life to live, though, and doesn’t pay it much attention. Until he wakes up one morning to find his dad gone, leaving behind only a short note to his mother, setting into motion a chain of events that sends Matt down a dangerous path that could jeopardize his present as well as his future. Forced to quit a job he likes, he must take on a new job to help his mother out financially, but one that also eats into his ever important social life as well as school. Adding to his troubles, his best friend, Dawn, has a new boyfriend.

Matt can’t wait to become a member of the Class of 1989, but first he must get out of 1988 alive.

* NOTE *Contains adult language


Chapter 1

I was seventeen years old when I played my first gig.

Thinking back, it really wasn’t that big a deal in the grand, macro scheme of things. It didn’t change my life nor did it lead to a record deal, followed quickly by fortune and glory. Women didn’t throw themselves at me or scream and cry when they saw me, like the girls in the old footage of The Beatles early shows. I played lead guitar in an 80’s hard rock band. We did get a fairly decent sized following around Columbia, SC, but a few years into our music career the bottom fell out of that type of music. Thanks in equal parts to fluffy ‘metal’ bands all over the airwaves and a few groups from Seattle that took the nation by storm. So, yeah, that first gig wasn’t that big a deal.

But at the time? It was the greatest moment of my young life.

The night before the show I didn’t sleep that well. I was way too excited to be bothered by any of those little slices of death, to paraphrase Poe. Don’t get me wrong, I tried to sleep, I really did. But each time sleep started to overtake me, my overactive mind kicked slumber to the curb and whirled with a thousand possibilities, all of them bad.

I only had one guitar, so what if I broke a string during a song? What if my voice went out? What if I forgot how to play the songs or messed up during the guitar solos? What if my dream girl didn’t show up? What if, what if, what if?

Then I would nod off for a few minutes and then wake up again and the cycle would continue.

Frustrated, I kicked the covers off and slipped out of bed. I thought about going for a swim—nothing quite like a middle of the night dip in the pool—and then decided against it. There would be dead bugs in the pool, possibly big ass palmetto bugs (my current Biggest Fear for some reason), and we didn’t have enough light in the backyard to properly scoop out all the detritus. So that was out. I decided to get a pop out of the refrigerator and think about my predicament.

I stepped quietly out of my room into the darkened hallway and tripped over my dog, who was asleep on his side outside my parents’s bedroom door. The big dog yelped and tried to jump up as I stumbled across his previously prone form. I cussed, regained my balance, and then he got his legs tangled in mine, and we both went down with a crash, a jumble of arms and legs and fur.

“Son of a bitch,” I said.

“Bo, shut up,” Dad’s groggy voice bellowed from behind the door.

I started to push myself up but Bo threw himself on top of me and shoved me back to the floor. He licked me.

“Get off me, you big moose,” I said and pushed his head away. He lurched forward and got in one more slobbery dog kiss—his impeccabley aimed tongue lapping my mouth—and then he was gone. I wiped his slobber from my face and swiped my hand on the carpet. “Gross, dog.”

He chuffed at me and then lay back down in front of Mom and Dad’s closed door. I shook my head, got up, and went to the kitchen. I squinted my eyes against the glare of the refrigerator light, grabbed a can of pop, and plopped down at the kitchen table. I popped the top as quietly as I could and took a big gulp. Then another. And one more for good measure.

I sat in the dark and drank and did my best to quiet my mind.

It didn’t really work all that well. I was nervous as hell, but at the same time I was as excited as a kid on Christmas Eve. I finished my drink, got up, and tossed the can in the trash. I thought about that swim again and immediately put it out of my mind. The last thing in the world I needed was a dead palmetto bug bumping up against me in the water. I shivered in disgust at the thought.

I went back to my room and, after closing the door behind me, flipped the light on. I took my guitar off its stand and sat down on my bed. If I couldn’t sleep, I might as well get a little extra practice in. Just a quick run through of the songs we would be playing the next night. I took a deep breath, played a few scales to limber up my fingers, and stopped. I couldn’t remember how to play the song we’d be opening with. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the name.

“Shit,” I muttered. I sat there with my guitar resting across one leg and stared at my closet door, but the set list didn’t magically appear on the wood in blazing letters from the heavens.

“Come on, dumb ass,” I said. I thought about calling the singer but I didn’t think his parents would appreciate a phone call at three in the morning from some dipshit kid panicking over a song title. Why didn’t I write the damned songs down and toss the paper in my guitar case? Why was I such an idiot?

And then it came to me.

“Stagefright,” I said and felt relief flood through me. I shook my head and noticed for the first time that I was sweating. I chuckled. “Flop sweat.”

I did a speed run through the first few songs of the set and figured that was enough. If I didn’t get some sleep I would be pretty useless the next night. I put my guitar away and stretched out on my back and stared at the ceiling.

I ran the set list over and over again in my head and finally fell asleep.

I dreamed of a swimming pool full of palmetto bugs and not being able to scoop them all out. Weird and disgusting.

I woke the next morning just before noon and had some leftover pizza for breakfast. I went outside into the bright heat of the day and glanced at the pool. Nope. Not full of those damnable little insects. Not even one.

I kicked around the house the rest of the day, not really paying any attention to what I was doing. It just wasn’t that important. Finally it was time to get ready for the gig, so I showered, blew dry my hair, and got dressed.

I grabbed my guitar case, told my parents goodbye, and went out to my car. I put the case in the back seat, climbed behind the steering wheel, and prayed it would start. I turned the key and prayed again. It would be just my luck that on the most important day of my life the piece of- - -

It started on the first try. Hallelujah.

I checked my hair in the rearview mirror—I wore it more Iron Maiden, than Poison—and, satisfied, backed out of the driveway.

I popped a tape into the tape deck and drove to the gig, a big dopey grin plastered to my face.

Author Links

Buy Links


Glory Days eBook

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 photo readingaddictionbutton_zps58fd99d6.png

Friday, March 21, 2014

'The Monsterjunkies: An American Family Odyssey' by Erik Daniel Shein and Theresa A. Gates


Tucked away in a remote cul-de-sac on the Maine coast is a place where the strange is normal, and the bizarre, is everyday. This is a place, where, if you do not have an open mind, you will loose your mind in its reality and truths. This is the home of The Monsterjunkies, An American Family Odyssey. Residing at this place, Cromwell aka/ Crow and his sister, Indigo, along with their friends go down a reality curve to arrive at the harsh truth of the indelible hurt bullying, emotional abuse and prejudice can foster. The family faces ignorance combined with aggression at every step as they try to build a life for themselves in the home of their ancestors. We are all MonsterJunkies and wear masks during our daily lives, in school, during work, hanging out with friends, imitating, being people who we look up to and admire, or those we want to be. It is those people who take off their masks and show the real person inside.


2013 Benjamin Franklin Awards™ - 12 - Teen: Fiction (13-18 Great Debut Real Fantasy Novel For Erik Shein
Pretty "current" feel for cover design - Twilight readers would pick this book up and readthe summary. Relatable to this age group. easy to read Great presentation!

This is unique enough to be attractive to the intended age group. Dysfunctional families are everywhere. It's a good novel on peer pressure, adolescent decision-making, and working through tough times. It's a well-written story of pain, joy and growth - well done!

“ Brilliantly descriptive, the authors paint their strange world in vivid colours making their tale believable and engaging. ” ~ Conrad Jones|

“ The book is not that big, just only 148 pages, the plot is fine and it has enough twists and turns to keep a continuous and interesting read. ” ~David Earner

“ The language seems in places quite necessary for the telling of the story. ” ~dramateacher|

Author bio

Erik, Daniel Shein
Visionary Entrepreneur, and Animal Welfare Advocate

Erik Daniel Shein was born Erik Daniel Stoops, November 18th 1966 He is an American writer, and Visionary, film producer, screenwriter, voice actor, animator, entrepreneur, entertainer, and philanthropist, Pet enthusiast and animal health advocate . He is the author and co authored of over 30 nonfiction and fiction books whose writings include six scientific articles in the field of herpetology. His children’s book, “The Forgotten Ornament” is a Christmas classic, and was endorsed by Hollywood legends Mickey and Jan Rooney.

Mr. Shein has consulted over the years with such organizations as the Arizona Fish and Game Department and USFWS in assisting them to protect endangered wildlife. He has lectured in over 400 elementary schools, on many conservation and animal-related topics.

Mr. Shein’s media, ecological and educational goals are to protect and preserve the world’s flora and fauna. One of his dreams is to find a host city and create the Earth Genomic Institute and wildlife sanctuary. He currently resides in Arizona.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Cover Reveal! 'Search (The Empire Chronicles #2)' by Alyssa Rose Ivy

We are so excited to share the cover for Alyssa Rose Ivy's SEARCH!! SEARCH is a New Adult Paranormal Romance and the second novel in her The Empire Chronicles Series. You'll definitely want to add SEARCH to your TBR pile!! Don't forget to enter below to win a print copy of SOAR, the first book in this amazing series!!


Search (The Empire Chronicles, Book 2)

*New Adult Paranormal Romance*

Casey isn't human. The revelation should terrify her, but it doesn't. Instead it excites her. Too bad not everyone is as excited as she is.

Torn between two lives, the only one she's ever known and her life as a paranormal princess, Casey has to decide whether she can trust the man she loves.

Sometimes being a princess isn't all it's cracked up to be.

SEARCH Goodreads:

Soar-Alyssa Rose Ivy

Soar (The Empire Chronicles, Book 1)

In the city that never sleeps the Chronicles continue…

Serving coffee is temporary, just like Casey’s year off from school. She’s going to come up with a plan to stay in New York City and go back to college, and that plan does not involve dating a paranormal creature—let alone two.

Running the supernatural society of New York is not as fun as it sounds, especially when you still have to answer to your ex-girlfriend’s fiancé. Toby doesn’t mean to bring Casey into the chaos of his life, but he can’t resist the girl who makes him smile when he thought no one else ever could.

Jared’s in New York checking out a security risk for his best friend, the king. He plans to return to New Orleans quickly, but not if it means losing his chance with the brunette who pretends she wants nothing to do with him.

In over her head with a bunch of winged creatures who most definitely are not angels, Casey has to figure out who to trust with her life and maybe her heart.

Alyssa Rose Ivy- Author PhotoABOUT ALYSSA ROSE IVY:

Alyssa Rose Ivy is a New Adult and Young Adult author who loves to weave stories with romance and a southern setting. Although raised in the New York area, she fell in love with the South after moving to New Orleans for college. After years as a perpetual student, she turned back to her creative side and decided to write. She lives in North Carolina with her husband and two young children, and she can usually be found with a cup of coffee in her hand.


Twitter \ Author Goodreads \ Pinterest \ Website \ SEARCH Goodreads \ Facebook
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monday, March 17, 2014

Author Hadley Holt on her inspiration for writing DESECRATION

Hadley Holt, my inspiration for writing DESECRATION…

Book 1 of the Wizard Queen at Sixteen Series
(Released in Serials: Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3)

I’ve always loved to write about anything having to do with fantasy or paranormal so I knew that my first Young Adult series would be in that genre.

Like inspiration often does, it came while I was writing something else. In INVIDIOUS, Book 1 of the Warrior Queen at Seventeen series, the romantic interest of the heroine is a young man who is from a wizard society where women have no real rights or power. I started thinking about what a girl in that society would feel like, and that is when Addie (Adriana Evangelista) was born.

Additionally, an author should try to write about things they feel passionate about. So I asked myself, what issues really light a fire inside of me? The answers were justice and empowerment of women. That’s when I knew I would write Addie’s story, and it would be set in the thick of a backward wizard society, hidden in the midst of a contemporary world.

In the beginning of DESECRATION, Book 1 of the Wizard Queen at Sixteen, Addie is simply a product of the society she’s grown up in. She doesn’t question that something might be wrong with how things are. But that’s where her journey begins, and she starts to understand things are broken, and it falls on her to fix them. The problem is she’s going to have to fight evil sorcerers and maybe even worse, stand up to her own family, in order to make change happen (and she has to help save the world, too…).

Please visit me at

Desecration: The Wizard Queen at Sixteen Synopsis:

In a hidden world of wizards where only men hold the power of magic, one girl arises with the power to change everything, if she isn’t killed first…

Adriana Victoriana Evangelista (Addie), daughter to the High Chancellor of the Wizard’s Council, has always been the perfect wizard girl. She never questions why men possess magical powers and women have no power at all, magical or otherwise. Male wizards blend into the modern human world, leading huge corporations while wizard women are sequestered away.

On her sixteenth birthday, Addie discovers she possesses magic. Under wizard law, she is a desecration. An ancient prophecy surrounds the emergence of a girl magic-wielder, the wizard queen, who is destined to bring about the downfall of the wizard-kin.

Addie has long had a forbidden crush on a human boy who lives in the wizard stronghold, Rory Devlin. As she delves deeper into the dangerous mysteries surrounding her own destiny, she suspects Rory might be more than just human.

Addie’s fate sends her straight into the path of a powerful and evil sorcerer, but the worst danger of all may come from right inside her own home.

Hadley Holt Bio:

Hadley Holt, author of paranormal, and fantasy YA (Young Adult) has always loved to write. She also nurtures an incurable fascination with all things supernatural and fantastical. From a young age, she imagined stories about dragons, wizards, witches, ghosts, shape-shifters, vampires, and other magical creatures. As life often does, it blessed Hadley with family - a hunky husband and amazing children, and with family came a rewarding career. Hadley spent many years in the not-so-magical world of finance and mortgage banking, but the stories were always there in the back of her mind, demanding to be set free.

Thanks to the housing market crash, Hadley finally realized her dreams. She now breathes life into her magical tales of reluctant young heroes finding their inner power to stand up against terrible creatures and even more terrible odds.

Please visit me at!


a Rafflecopter giveaway