Broken Pieces

Jack Canon's American Destiny

Great White House by Christoph Paul @ChristophPaul_

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Great White House NEW COVER
Great White Sharks Attack the White House!
The Federal Government is behind on its loans and Chinese President Xi Jinping wants his money. Having brought members of the China Task Force together in the White House for a meeting, Jinping, with the help of weather control and PETA, unleashes genetically modified great white sharks in an effort to force President Obama and the C.T.F. to make the tough decisions on how to meet the dear communist’s commands.
Can the C.T.F. escape the wrath of Red China and the great white killers, or will Obama be forced to disband the government and bring the country to brink of anarchy?
Paul and Thomas (the writers of G.W.H., not a folk group) have weaved a wicked tale of governments run amuck in this “grindhouse” novella. With elements of “South Park” meets “Sharknado” meets “Olympus has Fallen” meets “White House Down” meets other movies/TV shows featuring charismatic black presidents, G.W.H. illustrates just how far politicians can be pushed as they work to survive the horror of the ocean’s greatest murderers. America has bills to pay and China’s “loan sharks” are ready to collect that debt in blood.
These sharks don’t see Red or Blue—they are equal opportunity eaters.
Buy Now @ Amazon
Genre – Fiction, Humor
Rating – PG-13
More details about the author
Connect with Christoph Paul on Facebook & Twitter

Corr Syl the Warrior by Garry Rogers @garry_rogers

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

_______
One morning as Corr sat at his table listening to his mother’s instructions and conducting a set of simultaneous exercises, his father came in with a tall, short-legged, white-haired otter wearing a broad-brimmed hat.  “Corr, meet Ori Calin, one of the district’s assistant librarians.” 
Calin grinned, swept off his hat, and sat facing Corr.  “Corr, your parents say your studies are going well.  They asked me to come to meet you so you could show me what you’ve learned.  Would you like to answer some questions?”
Corr nodded.
“Do you know what has one head, one foot, and four legs?”
Corr didn’t know what to say. 
“A bed,” answered Calin, with a chuckle.
“How many letters in the Danog Alphabet?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Nope, sixteen,” said Calin, who laughed so hard that Corr grinned.
“Corr, this is what I want you to do . . . .”
For the next fifteen minutes, Corr recited a series of poems while he mentally calculated the intermediate chemical states for a metabolic series, composed a story based on a prompt given him by Calin, and prepared two proofs of the infinitude of prime numbers.
“Corr, that’s very good.  Now, do you have any questions for me?”
Corr reached in the drawer on his side of the table.  “Can you name something that’s in this drawer?”
“Not fair,” replied Calin, “I have no clues.”
“My hand,” said Corr, his whiskers twitching.
Calin gave a sharp whistle and laughed.  “Corr, stop by the library and say hello if you’re ever in the District Center.”
On Corr's fifth birthday, his family followed custom and returned to their ancestral home.  The day they left, Corr and Allon took a last walk together in the canyon and vowed to remain friends forever. 
The boys exchanged letters, but when Corr turned seven, he began training with one of the district's warriors and wrote less often.  Three years passed and Allon wrote that he had decided to follow his father and study engineering with a teacher in the district north of Wycliff.  His teacher designed spacecraft and sometimes visited the two space stations orbiting Earth.  Allon said he might get to go someday. 
Corr found the idea intriguing, but had no time to pursue the topic.  Strength, speed, endurance, genetics, sensing, anticipating, pain, fear, thirst, hunger, and technique, technique, technique.  These filled Corr's days and nights.
Four years passed and Allon returned.  Corr heard that Allon had some trouble and had not completed his training.  Then, about the time Corr completed his training, he received the stunning news that Allon had committed a murder.  Murder?  Impossible. 
 
http://garryrogers.files.wordpress.com/2013/10/corr-syl-the-warrior-100-x-160.jpg
Buy Now @ Amazon
Genre –  Science Fiction
Rating – PG
More details about the author & the book
Connect with Garry Rogers on Facebook & Twitter



























Constantinopolis by James Shipman @jshipman_author

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

His father! Mehmet stewed when he thought of him. His father had never shown him any real affection or spent significant time with him. He was not, after all, originally the heir to the Sultanate. He was a second son and only became heir when his older brother died. Mehmet had been forced from then on to endure a frantic and often harsh tutoring process. He was just beginning to grasp his responsibilities when at the age of 12 his father had retired and named him Sultan. He had done the best he could to govern, but in short order Grand Vizier Halil had called his father back to take over the throne. The Sultan felt Halil should have helped him, should have supported him. Instead he had watched and reported Mehmet’s shortcomings to his father, betraying him and leading to his humiliation.

From then on Mehmet had bided his time. He had learned to keep his thoughts and emotions to himself, to trust no one. He had studied everything: military art, languages, administration, and the arts. He had worked tirelessly so that when he next ruled he would not only equal his father but also exceed him. He would be the greatest Sultan in the history of his people, Allah willing.

His chance came when Murad finally died only two years before, as Mehmet turned 19. Mehmet quickly took power, ordering his baby half brother strangled to assure there would be no succession disputes, and set to organizing his empire. He had learned to be cautious and measured, leaving his father’s counselors and even Halil in power to assist him. From there he had slowly built up a group of supporters. They were young and exclusively Christian converts to Islam. These followers, many of whom now held council positions, were not nearly as powerful as the old guard, but they were gaining ground. They were the future, if Halil did not interfere.

Halil. His father’s Grand Vizier and now his own. He had always treated Mehmet with condescending politeness. He was powerful, so powerful that Mehmet could not easily remove him. So powerful it was possible he could remove Mehmet in favor of a cousin or other relative. Mehmet hated him above all people in the world, but he could not simply replace him. He needed Halil, at least for now, and Halil knew it.

This dilemma was the primary reason for Mehmet’s nighttime wanderings. He needed time away from the palace. Time to think and work out a solution to the problem. How could he free himself from Halil without losing power in the process? He could simply order Halil executed, but would the order be followed or would it be his own head sitting on a pole? The elders and religious leaders all respected and listened to Halil. Only the young renegades, the Christian converts who owed their positions to Mehmet were loyal to him. If Halil was able to rally the old guard to him, Mehmet had no doubt that the result would be a life or death dispute.

Mehmet needed to find a cause that could rally the people to him. The conversations he had heard night after night told him this same thing. The people felt that his father was a great leader, and that he was not. If he could gain the people’s confidence, then he would not need Halil, and the other elders would follow his lead.

Mehmet knew the solution. He knew exactly what would bring the people to his side, and what would indeed make him the greatest Sultan in the history of the Ottoman people.

The solution however was a great gamble. His father and father’s fathers had conquered huge tracts of territory in Anatolia and then in Europe, primarily at the expense of the Greeks. Mehmet intended to propose something even more audacious, to conquer the one place that his ancestors had failed to take. If he succeeded he would win the adoration of his people and would be able to deal with Halil and any others who might oppose him. If he failed . . .

The Sultan eventually made his way back near the palace, to the home of his closest friend, Zaganos Pasha. Zaganos, the youngest brother of Mehmet’s father in law, had converted to Islam at age 13, and was Mehmet’s trusted general and friend. He was the most prominent member of the upstart Christian converts that made up the Sultan’s support base.

Zaganos was up, even at this late hour, and embraced his friend, showing him in and ordering apple tea from his servants. Zaganos was shorter and stockier than Mehmet, a powerful middle-aged man in the prime of his life. He had receding dark brown hair. A long scar cut across his forehead and down over his left eye. He looked on Mehmet with smiling eyes extending in to crow’s feet. He smiled like a proud uncle or father.

Constantinopolis

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – Historical Fiction

Rating – PG

More details about the author and the book

Connect with  James Shipman on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://james-shipman.com

Nobody Has to Know by Frank Nappi @FrankNappi

http://www.dreamstime.com/-image23713420

Nobody Has To Know, Frank Nappi’s dark and daring new thriller, tells the story of Cameron Baldridge, a popular high school teacher whose relationship with one of his students leads him down an unfortunate and self-destructive path. Stalked through text-messages, Baldridge fights for his life against a terrifying extortion plot and the forces that threaten to expose him. NHTK is a sobering look into a world of secrets, lies, and shocking revelations, and will leave the reader wondering many things, including whether or not you can ever really know the person you love.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - Thriller

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author

Connect with Frank Nappi on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.franknappi.com

Inspiration from Places – Rayne Hall @RayneHall

Inspiration from Places
Rayne Hall
“Where do you find your ideas?” people often ask me.
The truth is, I don’t find ideas. Ideas find me.
Like ghosts, they seek me out, haunt me, and don’t let go until the story is written.
My mind is like a revolving drum filled with hundreds of jigsaw pieces, each representing a story idea. Sometimes two or more pieces click together, and that’s when a story takes shape.
The location is often among the first jigsaw pieces to click. The setting lends atmosphere and determines the flavour of the story. Some of the places in my stories are real, others exist only in my imagination, while yet others are a blend of the real and the imagined.
Many of the stories in Thirty Scary Tales are inspired by the places where I have lived and travelled in Britain. I live in a small dilapidated town of former Victorian grandeur on the south coast of England, and if you know the region, you may recognise the landscapes that inspired some of the tales.
The southeast of England has many village churches from the Norman period and the Middle Ages, many of them in isolated locations, often surrounded by tilting, lichen-encrusted gravestones. To research Take Me To St. Roch’s I spent a night in one of those old cemeteries, taking notes about every flickering shadow and every creepy noise. I jotted down how the wooden gate creaked on unoiled hinges, how the gravel crunched under my steps, and how the twigs of the trees beckoned like skeleton fingers, withered and pale.
Locals know what a menace herring gulls can be, but well-meaning tourists always feed them leftovers from their fish&chips takeaway, and this encourages the birds to even more aggression. Like daring highwaymen, they swoop and rob anyone holding food. I live in a top floor flat near the seafront. Every morning, seagulls hammer their beaks on my windows as if trying to break the glass. Watching them gave me the idea for the Seagulls story.
Never Leave Me was the first horror story I ever wrote, a long time ago. Inspiration came from reading about the archaeological discovery of the mummified “Druid Prince” and from a visit to the wind-swept Yorkshire Moors.
When the tide is out, it’s possible to walk on the seabed below the chalk cliffs, across black boulders and rust-coloured shingle. The air smells of salt and seaweed. Waves swish and slurp across the shingle, and in the distance, seagulls squawk. On one side, the sea glints like a diamond-studded sheet, on the other, the steep cliffs tower like unassailable fortress walls, a sublime sight. But woe when the tide comes rolling in while you’re still on the seabed! With no accessible path for miles, you’ll be trapped between the rock face and the smashing waves. In Double Rainbows, I imagined this scenario. What happens if you realise you got the time wrong?
The ferocious force of wind and waves sometimes erodes the cliffs and breaks off whole sections. The first time I walked below Fairlight Cliffs, the sight made my throat constrict. A large chunk of the cliff had recently fallen, leaving houses half destroyed, half standing. From below, I could see the inside of living rooms and kitchens, still furnished, as if any moment the inhabitants would enter. For years, the sight haunted me, but I could not come up with a story. Then St Leonards Writers decided to write stories about a local area, the so-called America Ground. Around the same time, I revisited Hastings Castle, which was partially destroyed during a violent storm 1287 when part of the cliff on which it stood fell. The three places – Fairlight, Hastings Castle, America Ground – clicked together, and I placed my story Scruples during the 1287 storm.
I had long mulled over a ghost story idea, but could not bring it to life until the plot clicked with several places from my memory. I recalled the railway tunnel next to the station where I used to wait after school for the train home, its entrance gaping like a black, hungry mouth. This combined with memories of travels in Wales, of steep slopes, grey slate houses, and drizzling rain. The story Through the Tunnel is the result.
The Devil You Know started with the memory of a night I spent as a young woman on a platform at Richmond station, waiting for the morning train to take me home, trying to sleep while the cold from the metal bench seeped through my thin dress. I kept the bench but moved it to an imaginary railway station on the Kent-Sussex border. Many of the small railway stations these days are unstaffed most of the time, with the waiting rooms and toilets locked, and the help points are often out of order.
Many years ago, I joined a group of divers for a holiday in Dorset. I couldn’t dive – I still can’t – but I listened to them as they talked about their plans for the day, and discussed the adventures at the evening campfire. I wondered if a wreck could be haunted, and what would be the worst thing that could go wrong on a dive. The divers were eager to help me with their know-how. The resulting story was I Dived the Pandora, which has been published in several versions. The current version is set in Sussex.
The main idea for Four Bony Hands haunted me for many years. What if the events in a certain fairytale didn’t happen quite the way everyone believes? After several abandoned attempts, another jigsaw piece clicked: the place was a cosy interior, heated by a big oven, providing shelter from the cold weather, refuge from persecution, and sanctuary from evil. Although the story takes place indoors, you can imagine the pine and oak woods surrounding the cottage, snow-laden like the Scottish forests in winter.
Beltane was my entry for a contest where each writer has twenty-four hours to create a complete story about a given topic. The theme was something about a blind fruit vendor and a young female customer. It was the first of May – the date of the traditional Celtic Beltane festival – and fresh green leaves and white blooms covered the trees, so I decided to set the story in ancient England in Celtic times. What did the blind vendor know that the girl did not? The story didn’t win, but I liked it, and a year later I wrote a more polished version.
Stone circles hold a deep fascination for me, and there are many of them in Britain. I’ve visited many stone circles, from the big ones like Avebury and Stonehenge to the ones which are so small they’re hard to spot among the bracken, from the major tourist attractions to the unknown ones, accessible only after a long hike, climbing across stiles and squeezing through thorny brambles. My favourites are the stone circles of Cornwall: Tregeseal, Merry Maidens, Boscawen-Un and all the others. Sometimes I would reach an out-of-the way place and discover that a previous visitor had left an offering, such as a posy of wildflowers, which always delighted me. On one occasion, though, I was disconcerted to find the offering was the flattened, fire-parched body of a frog. Readers familiar with Cornwall will recognise the landscape in the story Druid Stones and may even guess which circle was the fictional inspiration for the Dredhek Stones.
Burning was one of the most difficult stories I’ve ever written, and I believe it’s one of my best. Several places combined in my mind to form the inspiration. The first was a house on fire in the neighbourhood. My father forced me to watch it burn, even though at the age of seven I was upset and terrified. The second was also a house that burned out. This time, I did not witness the inferno, but I heard afterwards that the Turkish family who lived there had not been able to get out. Their charred skeletons told how they had cowered in the corner as the flames devoured them, and the father had shielded his daughters with his own body for as long as he could. This moved me deeply, and then I heard someone say “They were only Turks. Good riddance to the vermin.”
Later, I learnt about the atrocities committed against Jews during the Nazi period. In the town of my birth, locals burnt the synagogue and then built a church on that spot. In a nearby town, the eager citizens went even further: they locked the Jewish population into the synagogue before they set it on fire. The fire brigade, instead of putting out the flames, fanned and fed them, and made sure none of the Jews could escape. Much later, after the al-Qaeda bombings in London, a wave of burning hatred against Arabs swept through England, and it frightened me. Burning houses, churches, racial hatred, hypocrisy, a scared child witnessing events she cannot understand… these elements clicked together into a disturbing tale of human evil.
The story Only a Fool started with a real incident. As a young woman, I lived in London. One night I walked home from the Tube station when a drunken man attacked me, and I was saved by my wits and vivid imagination. For the story, I added memories of the many places where I had been nervous to walk alone, the kind of alley where shattered windows wink in the sparse light and footsteps echo as loud as your thudding heart.
I enjoy evoking the atmosphere of a place with the senses of sound, touch and smell.
My stories involve little violence. They are horror, but not of the slash-and-gore type with chainsaw massacres and lakes of blood. My brand of horror is of the suspenseful, creepy kind. Where other horror writers shock their readers with graphically mangled corpses, I tantalise mine with with places that ooze creepy atmosphere.
Thirty Scary Tales
Buy Now @ Amazon & Smashwords
Genre – Horror
Rating – PG-13
More details about the author
Connect with Rayne Hall on Twitter

In Love With My Best Friend by Sheena Binkley

Monday, October 28, 2013

1

Camille

How did my life get so complicated? One minute, I, Camille Anderson, was living a pretty normal life in which nothing ever happened to me, and the next I'm practically being hauled away from the premier wedding venue in Houston, The Corinthian, by security because of my sudden outburst to the groom.

I should have known I was setting myself up for disaster, but I had to do it. I had to tell my best friend that I'd been in love with him since I was thirteen.

I really didn't expect the scene to unfold the way it did, especially while Trevor was getting married, but I couldn't hold my feelings in much longer. I felt he was making a terrible mistake, because he was marrying the wrong woman. He should have been marrying me.

I guess I should backtrack to when Trevor and I first met. It was seventeen years ago, when the Williams family first moved into the house next to ours. I was outside waiting for my friend Tia Simmons to come by when I first noticed Trevor. He was absolutely gorgeous as he stepped out of his family's SUV. He had that "boy next door" look, with wavy black hair and smooth ivory skin. He looked over at me and gave me a huge grin, which I greatly returned.

After that day, not only did we become friends, but our parents became great friends as well. We always went by each other's homes for dinner or for game night (until we were too old to appreciate hanging out with our parents on a Friday night).

We were practically inseparable during our high school years, and many of our friends thought we would eventually get married and have lots of kids. When anyone mentioned that to Trevor, he would shrug it off and say, "We're just friends, and it will stay that way until the day we die." Usually those words would tug at my heartstrings, but being the shy person I am, I never let my feelings show.

As we went to college, Trevor and I went into the same major, public relations. That was when he met Chelsea Parker, who was also my roommate. At first I liked Chelsea because she was basically a sweet person, but when she set her sights on Trevor, I quickly disliked her. Not because she took Trevor away from me, but because she became a different person.

If only I could go back to four weeks ago, or even seventeen years ago, I would be with the man I loved...

~

Four weeks ago....

"I don't know why you dragged me to this," I said as I looked at my friend Tia. The two of us were inside the Aventine Ballroom of Hotel Icon waiting for our friend Trevor and his fiancée, Chelsea, to arrive for their engagement and welcome home party. The two had announced their engagement to everyone a while back when Trevor was visiting his parents before going back to Dallas. Not only did he announce his engagement, but he also said that he had accepted a new position at a prestigious PR firm and was moving back to Houston. Although I was happy that my best friend was moving back, I was not thrilled that he was getting married.

"For once, why can't you be happy for Tre? He and Chelsea are finally getting married."

I gave Tia an evil stare as I looked toward the revolving door to the ballroom.

"You know how I feel about Trevor and Chelsea getting married."

"Oh please, Cam, when are you going to get past the fact that Trevor found someone? I told you to admit your feelings to him, but being the person you are, you decided not to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You felt you would have been rejected if you told Trevor your true feelings."

"If I remember correctly, in high school when Charles asked him why we never hooked up, he said, and I quote, 'We're just friends.'"

Tia rolled her eyes at me and started to stare at the door as well. This was not the first time we'd had this conversation about my feelings for Trevor, so I'm pretty sure Tia was tired of hearing it.

Tia was my other best friend and the complete opposite of me. While I was quiet and reserved, Tia was wild and carefree. She always did what she wanted and didn't care about the consequences. People always thought we were sisters, with our caramel-colored complexion and long, dark-brown hair. But that was where the similarities ended. I looked down at my black sequin dress that went above my knees, wondering if I was dressed appropriately for the occasion; but as I looked at the hot-pink dress Tia was sporting, I figured my outfit was perfect.

"So how are things between you and Eric?"

"Finished; I broke up with him a couple of days ago."

"I'm assuming because he's not Trevor? Cam, you have got to move on."

I sighed as I noticed two figures coming through the door. I started to breathe slowly as I watched my friend walk in with his fiancée. Trevor always was attractive, but tonight he looked really handsome in a dark blue suit, white shirt, and blue and white striped tie. His black, wavy hair was cut short, bringing out his beautiful brown eyes. He walked hand in hand with Chelsea, the woman I wish I'd never met, who was positively glowing in an ivory-colored empire dress. Her reddish brown hair was pulled into a tight ponytail and her makeup was flaw- less. Although I was completely jealous of Chelsea, I had to admit the two made a stunning couple.

Tia gave me a frown.

"You OK?"

"I'm cool. Let's just get this over with."

While the crowd of family and friends were clapping and whistling for the happy couple, all I could do was just stand in my place, looking at Trevor as if he was the only person in the room. He gave me a smile that showed the deep dimples on each of his cheeks. As he went to greet a couple of his family members, I took a deep breath to control any tears from flowing.

I shouldn't have come tonight.

~

Trevor

"Why did we plan a huge engagement party? Everyone knows we're engaged," I asked my fiancée, Chelsea, as we were walking hand in hand down the corridor inside Hotel Icon.

"Sweetie, I just wanted everyone to celebrate in our happiness and what better way than a huge party?"

I sighed as I continued to walk, not realizing how frustrated I was becoming.

Chelsea was the love of my life. I instantly knew I wanted to marry her when I first laid eyes on her in Camille's dorm room. The two were roommates their junior year at University of Houston, which was great for me, considering I was able to see my best friend and my girlfriend at the same time. Although Camille and I were really good friends, I got the sense that something had been bothering her since I'd been dating Chelsea. Call me crazy, but it seemed as if Camille was jealous of our relationship. I hope not, because Chelsea loves Camille and considers her a good friend.

As we walked into the ballroom, everyone from our family and our friends were clapping and cheering for our arrival. We started to wave at everyone as we entered. Once I turned my head toward the center of the room, I had to stop and admire the person staring straight at me. My heart jolted several beats at the beauty who was giving me a dazzling smile. Camille Anderson had always been a beautiful woman, from her caramel-colored skin to her deep chocolate eyes; she definitely stood out in a crowd.

Just looking at her long hair flowing around her face and the black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places made me feel sort of embarrassed, because I shouldn't have been looking at her in that way. I always considered her my best friend and nothing more, so why was I looking at her differently now?

Chelsea turned her attention to me, wondering what was wrong.

"Is everything OK?"

I suddenly realized I was staring a little too long as I turned to Chelsea.

"I'm fine," I said as I squeezed her hand.

I gave Camille a huge grin as I walked over to talk to a nearby guest. I snuck another peek at her; she was talking to our friend Tia near the bar. I don't know what was going on with me, but hopefully this feeling I was having about my best friend would go away soon.

That's if I want it to.

In Love With My Best Friend

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - Contemporary Fiction

Rating – PG13

More details about the author

Connect with Sheena Binkley on Twitter

Website http://sheenabinkley.wordpress.com/

Date with the Dead by Chris Myers @CMyersFiction

Date with the Dead

Sixteen-year-old Jolie Livingston’s closest and only friend Drew is this really hot dead guy, and it bites that the self-absorbed princesses at school cannot even see him. That’s right she can communicate with the dead. It’s the living she has trouble with. She and her mom inherited this awesome crib in Plymouth, MA. It’s quite a step-up from the homeless shelter in New Orleans, but there’s a catch. They can’t afford the past due mortgage, so Jolie’s working on that.

She starts a ghost hunting business called Ripsters. Somehow she’s managed to recruit Brittany, a glamour SAP smothered in pink, and a techie allergic to ghosts. Brit actually thinks he resembles the R&B singer Chris Brown. All that pink has clouded her vision. They both have special talents Jolie’s hoping will be useful to their venture. Right now, they’re working for a family in need of major therapy due to a dead guy with a hole in his head.

AWARDS
Top 100 semi-finalist of 2009 Amazon Breakthrough Novel
2008 Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers Gold Contest Finalist for Ripsters

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - YA Paranormal Mystery, Romance

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author

Connect with Chris Myers on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.chrismyersfiction.com

#AmReading - THE SEAL (Rosicrucian Quartet) by Adriana Koulias @AdrianaKoulias

THE SEAL (Rosicrucian Quartet) by Adriana Koulias

Amazon

A Bestseller in Historical Fiction and the winner of Dymocks Critics Choice Awards, this book was translated into four languages and is a must for history buffs and Templar fans. 

It is the year 1307 and the ancient Order of the Knights of Christ and the Temple of Solomon is in grave danger. The King of France and Pope Clement V are plotting its destruction and scheming to appropriate the Order's most sacred relic.  Etienne de Congost, a battle-weary but incorruptible man is ordered to flee with it, dodging plots and papal spies in a life and death struggle to keep its secret from evil hands. The outcome of Etienne's desperate journey is discovered 700 years later by a writer who visits Lockenhaus Castle in Austria to research a book on the Templars. Together with an eccentric local woman he begins to untangle the web of destiny that binds them both to the mystery of the Seal.

J.L. Myers – What Inspired Me to Write My Book @BloodBoundJLM

Sunday, October 27, 2013

What Inspired Me to Write My Book

Many people, situations and circumstances brought me to where I am today, and created the person I have become. All these things now drive my need to write.

In the beginning my decision to write a novel, although lighthearted, came from darker and much more desperate place. It was in the months following the birth of my son, the angel of my life and the one thing that makes me continue on each day. Apart from having an emergency C-section, followed by many other issues after his birth, postpartum depression set in.

With a family history of depression, postpartum wasn’t unexpected, especially given my prior history and longstanding struggle with anxiety. But this was monumentally different. Many things made me feel like an inadequate mother, wife, and even human being. I was sinking fast.

Reading became my escape from reality. The only problem was that the stories I was reading didn’t speak to the pain I was feeling. So I had an idea, a last stitch effort to reach out for something to hold on to.

This was my light bulb moment.

I would write my own story, the story I wanted and needed to read, and a story where the turmoil of my current and previous struggles were the driving force.

That day the first words to What Lies Inside were written, and something amazing was started. More than an escape, the determination to write this story gave me a purpose. It became a channel to take everything I was feeling—the anger, the regret, the despair, the betrayal, the disappointment and the loneliness—and turn it into an outlet that helped me through one of the darkest periods of my life.

That pain is behind me now, for the most part, but my need to write has remained. There is a life of experiences that drive my pen to scrawl across paper or my fingers to dance over the computer’s keyboard. So with many years of life left, I don’t see that slowing down any time soon.

This is my story, one of many, and this is where it all began…

What Lies Inside

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – YA Paranormal Romance

Rating – PG-13+

More details about the author

Connect with  Jessica Myers on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://bloodboundnovels.com

Birth of an Assassin by Rik Stone @stone_rik

Adrik waited in the guard’s room a couple of corridors along from Kornfeld’s cell. There was only one way out, so the Jew had to pass this room. He spun a Makarov on his finger, aimed at imaginary targets and thrilled at the thought of using it. The gun was standard issue, but he would’ve chosen it anyway. Totally reliable, pull the trigger and out pop the bullets. The blowback design expels the spent case to the right and loads the next cartridge into the chamber – easy. And fully armed with eight rounds, he would use them all.

This wouldn’t be his first killing and sure as hell wouldn’t be his last. Kornfeld was a pain, and it was Otto who mattered. He would do anything for him. Why should he care about some Jew who got in the way?

But time dragged, and Kornfeld hadn’t yet made a show. For one horrible minute he thought there might be another way out – but no, that isn’t even possible. Calm down, be patient... Try as he might, he couldn’t, and the idea ran around his head, irritating him beyond measure.

He left the guardroom and paced the corridor outside. At first a short distance and then a bit further into the next passageway. No good – he had to find out what had happened. With gun in hand and footsteps stealthy he reached the cell door – it was slightly open. Oh shit, did that mean there was another way out? Or maybe Kornfeld had gone deeper into the prison block. Or maybe he was in the cell hoping the element of surprise would be with him.

Possibilities ganged up. Kornfeld knew Lubyanka well. What if there was another way out and that little bastard knew it? If so, Otto would kill him, never mind the Jew. He kicked the door fully open, slammed it against the cell wall, stood back and then moved in, pointing the gun around to make sure Kornfeld wasn’t hidden on either side of the opening. The cell was dimly lit and he found it difficult to see. He would stay put until his eyes got accustomed to the light. A body, he saw a body. It was covered with a greatcoat, on the bunk facing the wall.

He was clearly supposed to think it was Kornfeld. In that case he’d be under the bunk waiting... But then that’s obvious too, so he might be on top with the guard pushed underneath. That made more sense – it would be easier for him to make an attack from on top – but, shit, wouldn’t that be what he wanted him to think?

To be sure of the kill, Adrik wanted to shoot above and below – but he couldn’t. How would he explain the soldier’s death? Oh, Otto, if only Otto was there to tell him what to do. But he wasn’t, he had to make up his own mind. The Jew was on top – yes, definitely on top.

Cautiously, he edged forward, pointed the pistol to the back of the person’s head and pulled the body towards him with gun steady and ready to fire. As quickly as his huge form allowed, he pulled the greatcoat away.

Fuck! The guard! No time to react. A leg came from under the bunk with incredible speed and wrapped around the back of his. At the same time, the Jew’s other foot came against his knees and pushed. Adrik had brought his legs together when he tore the coat away and Kornfeld used the imbalance to his advantage. Adrik’s arms went out. He hovered awkwardly, then almost regained control, but Kornfeld pushed harder and Adrik went flying backwards with his legs in the air. A sense of suspension ended and he fell heavily, striking the hard stone floor. His head bounced, shudders chased through his brain and he found himself staring at the ceiling, wavering between conscious and unconscious.

The pain pierced his skull and he noticed his head had rested in a pool of warm liquid. He hadn’t seen that when he came in. Numbness consumed his body; he couldn’t move. But then his blurred vision saw the bleary outline of the Jew. Awareness came that his body was being rolled over. He was paralyzed, but it didn’t stop the surge of fear that ran through every fibre of his being.

Birth of an Assassin

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – Thriller, Crime, Suspense

Rating – R

More details about the author

Connect with Rik Stone on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://rik-stone.simdif.com

The Color Pink by Parker Paige

The_Color_Pink_Cover_for_Kindle

Can wearing the color pink attract true love?

That is the question Summer Jones intends to answer.

In her early thirties, Summer Jones thought that she had found the perfect man, the man she planned to marry until she learned that he still had feelings for his first love. Now, at age thirty-five, Summer is ready to fall in love again. After she hears that wearing the color pink can attract true love, she sets out to do just that–and finds more than just true love.

Follow Summer as she journeys into the world of color magic and find out how she uses that magic to help her choose between one man from her past and another man who is destined to become her future.

This romantic drama serves up something fun and sexy, proving that the road to love can be paved with many painful lessons and memorable moments. It’s a story about paying attention to your past so that you don’t always have to repeat it.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - Romance

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author

Connect with Parker Paige on Twitter

Website parkerpaige.wordpress.com

Birth of an Assassin by Rik Stone @stone_rik

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Birth of an Assassin

Set against the backdrop of Soviet, post-war Russia, Birth of an Assassin follows the transformation of Jez Kornfeld from wide-eyed recruit to avenging outlaw. Amidst a murky underworld of flesh-trafficking, prostitution and institutionalized corruption, the elite Jewish soldier is thrown into a world where nothing is what it seems, nobody can be trusted, and everything can be violently torn from him.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - Thriller, Crime, Suspense

Rating – R

More details about the author

Connect with Rik Stone on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://rik-stone.simdif.com

The Photo Traveler (The Photo Traveler Series) by Arthur J. Gonzalez

Friday, October 25, 2013

CHAPTER ONE

I can’t ask for a better day to be out shooting. Man, what a view. Something about how the sun’s rays press against the faint distant outline of the mountains. Sick! If it can seem so dominating from all the way over here, I can only imagine what it must feel like up close. I don’t know. It just always kind of does something to me.

I know, I know. Lame, right? But trust me, if you lived in the hellhole I live in, anytime alone is sacred. You start to appreciate all these little not-so-particular things. Yeah—even the outline of the mountains.

Carefully, I focus the lens on my Canon 7D to capture the effect of the clouds drifting across the peaks of Mt. Rose and get my shot. A few seconds later, the sunlight dims. I hadn’t realized it was so late. I glance at my watch, wondering what’s taking Melinda so long. She promised to pick me up by five, even though I knew that would mean five-thirty. It’s five-forty-five.

I call her on my cell. It rings four times, then goes to voicemail. “Come on, Mel!” I mutter. “It’s getting late!”

I’ve had a good day so far, probably because I’ve been alone for most of it, and I really don’t want another confrontation with Jet. I can still taste the faint copper tinge of blood at the corner of my mouth where he split my lip the last time around. Two days ago.

I hit redial. Straight to voicemail. “Dammit, Mel!”

I tell myself to breathe, but my anxiety is really starting to kick in. Sweat is beading on my forehead and my heart is jolting in my chest. Why does she always have to be so impossible? I don’t get it.

The moment I hear the loud thrum of an engine roaring up the dirt road, I jump up from the boulder I’ve been perched on. It’s about damn time!

She screeches up to me in her new, cherry-red Mini Cooper and slams on the brakes. I dodge around to the passenger side. Grab the door handle. It’s locked.

“Mel!” I shout. “Open up!”

But she’s sitting behind the wheel pretending not to hear me. Eyes glued to her phone, purple nails tapping out a text message. With a tiny smirk on her glossed-up lips.

I hit the window with my fist. “Stop messing around! Jet’s gonna be pissed!”

She finishes her text, sends it … and adjusts the rearview mirror so she can check out the jet-black curls at her temples. She still hasn’t given me one look. Is she really serious right now?

I pound at the window again, as hard as I can. “Open up, dammit!” My anxiety is turning into rage. And rage is something Jet’s modeled for me only too well over the years, ever since he and his first wife, Leyla, took me in as a foster kid. Mel was just six at the time, but “my sister,” which she became after they finally adopted me, was a full-fledged brat from Day One, and she’s only gotten worse.

My fist hurts. I’m afraid of what Jet will do when we get back, since he ordered me to be home by six so I can start dinner.

But as far as Mel’s concerned, I might as well not be there. I can’t control it any longer. I take a step back, lift my knee, and kick the passenger door with all my strength. The hollow metal frame vibrates against the sole of my shoe. Mel’s prized car now has a six-inch dent right in the middle of the passenger door.

I guess that got her attention. Her mouth is hanging open. For a moment, she’s so astonished that she can’t speak. She swings her door open and charges around to the passenger side.

“MY CAR!” she screams, staring at the dent. “Are you crazy?!”

“Why couldn’t you just open up?” I yell back.

“Gavin, you’re an asshole! I was just messing with you! You’re never gonna learn to use your head, are you?”

“Go to hell!”

She goes still, then raises her eyebrows with an “Oh, really?” expression. Then she hauls off and slams her fist into the right side of my face. All I can feel is the large stone of her ring jabbing into my cheek. She stalks back to the driver’s side with a wicked smirk creasing her lips and snaps, “You can walk home!”

She slides behind the wheel, slams the door, and peels off so hard and fast that the car kicks up a stinging cloud of gravel and asphalt dust all over me.

She can’t be serious. But as the Mini disappears around the first bend in the road, I realize that she is.

* * *

Photo Traveler

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - Young Adult Science Fiction

Rating – PG

More details about the author and the book

Connect with Arthur J. Gonzalez on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.arthurjgonzalez.com/

#Free–Penalty Clause by Lori Ryan @loriryanauthor

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Penalty Clause by Lori Ryan

Amazon Kindle US

Genre – Romantic Suspense

Rating – R

4.5 (42 reviews)

Free until 24 October 2013

To keep her, he'll have to gamble it all!
Andrew Weston and Jill Walsh had to be the two most unlikely people to fall in love. When Jill's first husband's love for her simply fizzled and died, Jill knew she'd never trust that love could last again. After Andrew's first love betrayed him in the most brutal way possible, he knew he might fall in love again someday, but there was no way he'd ever make himself vulnerable again by confessing those feelings if he did.
Fate had a different ending in mind for these two, though, and when Andrew discovers his love for Jill, he knows the only way to get her to stay with him forever is to offer her an iron clad penalty clause in a prenuptial agreement. He stays with her forever or he loses everything he owns. The millions he's worked for, his property, his cars, everything. Now he just needs to hope that's enough to hold onto Jill forever.

Colony East (The Toucan Trilogy #2) by Scott Cramer @cramer_scott

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Colony East
When the bacteria that killed most of world’s adults undergo a deadly mutation, 15-year-old Abby must make the dangerous journey to Colony East, an enclave of scientists and Navy personnel who are caring for a small group of children. Abby fears that time is running short for the victims, but she’s soon to learn that time is running out for everyone outside Colony East. (Parental discretion advised for readers 13 and under)
Colony East will be specially priced at $2.99, 60 percent off the regular price.
Night of the Purple Moon (Book 1 of the Toucan Trilogy) is free.
Buy Now @ Amazon
Genre - Science fiction
Rating – PG-13
More details about the author
Connect with Scott Cramer on Facebook & Twitter

#Free - Night of the Purple Moon by Scott Cramer @cramer_scott

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

image

Abby, 13, is looking forward to watching the moon turn purple, unaware that deadly bacteria from a passing comet will soon kill off older teens and adults. She must help her brother and baby sister survive in this new world, but all the while she has a ticking time bomb inside of her--adolescence.

"Cramer creates a picture of our world that's both frightening and inspiring in this heartfelt story that both young adults and adults can enjoy.A heartwarming but not overly sentimental story of survival." KIRKUS REVIEWS

"Outrageous and completely 'out of the box'."
MY HOME AWAY FROM HOME review blog
"Three words: Gripping. Palpable. Well-developed." WORD SPELUNKING review blog

Buy Now @ Amazon & B&N & iBooks & Kobo

Genre - Science fiction

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author

Connect with Scott Cramer on Facebook & Twitter

Booksigning/Convention Tips – James Shipman @jshipman_author

Booksigning/Convention Tips

Booksigning at an author convention/comicon, etc. can be a tough assignment for an unknown author.  I’ve attended five or six conventions in the past two years.  I have a little bit of an audience at this point so I have the periodic fan that just wants to run up and have their book signed or buy a book to sign. That is a gratifying, ego boosting event.  However most of the time the sales are hard work.

The first thing I would suggest is having quality presentation materials.  You don’t have to go overboard but at a minimum have a good sized poster board printed of your cover and display that on an easel behind your chair.  Also have a small easel to display a book (or books) on the table itself.  I also would suggest having quality business cards prepared that not only list your book but reference all of your various social media and an email address.

When you are sitting at the table you are going to have to cold sell to customers who know absolutely nothing about you.  I recommend you practice a fifteen second blurb about your book.  Ask people if they are interested in your genre first, and if there is a well known writer that you feel would have a similar audience, you may want to ask them if they like “so and so.”  Then hit them with your pitch of the book.  Also hand them a book to look through.  Once it’s in their hands you have a better chance that they will actually buy the book.  I also like to include any statistic you have about your book.  If you’ve hit the top 100 on Amazon even for thirty seconds for your genre, tell them about that.  You can often get your book into the top 100 on Amazon for free books if you’ve run a promotion, even if that is all you have to hold on to, tell them about it.  People react very well to the concept that your book is a bestseller or has sold well.  If they decide not to buy tell them about your less expensive kindle version and give them a card.

Every single sale is a victory.  If you are a new writer, when you make a sale, you are getting to sign a book and give it to a reader.  That is an amazing thing.  I’ve sold a few hundred books at a convention and also 25, the total number doesn’t matter.  Get out there and enjoy yourself.

Constantinopolis

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – Historical Fiction

Rating – PG

More details about the author

Connect with  James Shipman on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://james-shipman.com

#AmReading – Love on a Budget by Norma L. Jarrett @jarrettwrites7

Love on a Budget by Norma L. Jarrett

Amazon

Jake Jiles was always handy with tools. Despite his love for all things do-it-yourself, he went to college and majored in business to fulfill his parents’ dream. He finally got the courage to leave his corporate job and start his “Honey-Do-4-Hire” business. Less than a year in, he’s already exhausted his savings and still living at home with his mother, but he’s determined to birth his franchise. Consumed with his business and fresh off a breakup, he wasn’t in the market for Mrs. Right. But after completing a job on Valentine’s Day, his potential dream girl, Sky showed up. After a brief chat over her car dilemma, he ignored the chemistry and left without her number. But cupid and God had other plans. After a divine connection, the only thing that stood between Jake and Sky, were funds. Will Jake pursue “Love on a Budget” or miss out because the price is too high?

Guinevere: On the Eve of Legend by Cheryl Carpinello

Monday, October 21, 2013

Chapter 1

The Hunt

Guinevere stared into the shadows along the edge of the forest. She could hear Cedwyn shifting from foot to foot beside her, unable to stand still. She sighed, the bow made of sturdy pine in her hand growing heavier like her heart. Her thirteenth Birth Day was in a few days, but she wasn’t excited. Birth Days were supposed to be fun, but not this year. Not for her, not for a princess.

She frowned as Cedwyn adjusted the leather quiver of arrows on his back again. Sometimes, like today, her patience with the seven-year-old was short.

“Guin’ver?”

“Hush!”

“But ...”

“Hush!”

She stamped her boot on the ground, her displeasure clearly showing.

“Cedwyn,” she snapped. “What is so important that you can’t be quiet?”

“I’m hungry, and the bottoms of my trousers are wet. Can’t we go back to the castle?” His face showed his confusion at her tone.

Guinevere realized that she shouldn’t have directed her anger at Cedwyn. It wasn’t his fault. Glancing down at her own clothes, she saw the bottom of her green ankle-length tunic wet with the morning dew. Her stomach chose that moment to begin grumbling. It started as a low vibration but grew louder as if it hadn’t been fed in days. Cedwyn heard it and started giggling. He tried to smother the sound by covering his mouth with his small hand, but he was too late.

Trying to keep from laughing also, Guinevere shook her head. “How are we ever going to shoot a rabbit with all this noise?” She reached down and tousled his blond hair to let him know that she was not serious and to apologize for her crossness. “Let’s try for just ten minutes longer. Then if we find nothing, we’ll go back. Is that all right?”

Cedwyn shook his head, not wanting to make any further noise. She let her eyes move across the blue sky. The English summer sun had barely reached above the far hills when they had first arrived at the forest. Now, it was well on its way in its climb toward the dinner hour, and they hadn’t even had a proper breakfast yet. Cedwyn’s mum was sure to be upset that they had been gone so long.

“Come on,” he whispered. “The only creatures we’ve seen moving have been badgers and Cornish hens. We could of had five bloody hens by now.”

“I told you, it’s good luck to bag a rabbit on the eve of your thirteenth Birth Day,” Guinevere informed him.

Cedwyn studied her face, unsure if she was telling the truth or not. Then his blue eyes widened, and he grabbed her arm as she turned to continue hunting. “Wait a minute! You promised to help me bag a rabbit on the eve of my tenth Birth Day. You said that was lucky!”

She turned to him, her balled fists on her slim hips. “You need to listen closer when I talk to you. I explained the difference be- tween boys and girls. Boys have to seek luck on the eve of their tenth and fifteenth Birth Days. Since girls are naturally luckier than boys, they only have to seek luck once, on the eve of their thirteenth Birth Day.”

Cedwyn eyed her suspiciously, and then his eyes lit up.

“But I thought that the eve was the night before. Your Birth Day isn’t until the day after tomorrow.”

“That’s true, but the eve of something can also be anytime close to the day.”

“Are you sure?”

Guinevere

Buy Now @ Amazon @ Smashwords

Genre - Arthurian Legend

Rating – G

More details about the author and the book

Connect with Cheryl Carpinello on Facebook & Twitter & Goodreads

Website http://www.beyondtodayeducator.com/

Author Interview – Greg Sandora @gregsandora

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Tell us a bit about your family. Originally we were from the Portland, Maine area. My mom graduated from Westbrook High School and lived in the same small town her entire life. My dad was in the Air Force stationed in Guam; he returned to work in accounting and went back to school to earn a degree in art. My Dad and Mom were artists, my father painted and my mother wrote poetry and loved to garden. Most Saturdays we loaded up the 1970 Chevy Impala to trek to a one-man show somewhere or other. I took a different track graduating with a business degree, owning and operating an Award Winning Franchise Fitness Center. I am currently a professional manager living in Florida with my beautiful wife and children, following my passion.

Why did you feel you had to tell this story? I always wanted to tell this story. Jack Canon is the everyman in us that dreams of setting things right. The story has tender moments of deep intimacy and romance, woven throughout a real thriller. The characters are true friends, working for the common goal of winning the Presidency. The story is basically set in Washington and on the campaign trail and has plenty of corruption, billionaires, and beautiful woman to keep the reader entertained. All the following components are featured: Washington Politics, Corruption, Romance, Love, Tenderness, Murder, Love, Suspense, Presidential Politics, Power, Passion, and Thrills. Jack and his friends stop at nothing to make a better America for all citizens.

How do your family and friends feel about the book? My family and friends have been supportive. Funny story – I sat down in the living room in our most comfortable chair and wrote the first paragraph. I liked it even though it didn’t end up making it into the book. Finishing that paragraph I announced to my wife and 22-year-old son that I was writing a book. We still laugh about the eye rolling. The idea came to me all at once – the entire story. I wanted to tell a story of great characters that are the best of friends. There’s tenderness, romance, political corruption at the highest levels, not to leave out murder and revenge.

Do you ever experience writer’s block and how do you overcome it? I don’t get writers block because I wait until the story literally explodes onto the page.

If your book was made into a movie, who do you picture playing each part? My sister-in-law has already chosen Ben Affleck to play Jack Canon. Funny – I took the first draft to Disney. At first she didn’t have any interest, but my mother-in-law was reading and commenting – enjoying the story. So, my sister-in-law, Terri, picks up the pages mom had finished and turned them quickly – long story short – she ended up loving Jack! She bought a kindle just to read the final version. I figured Katherine Heigl could play Sandy. Sandy is blonde and beautiful and fixes herself up to look like Marilyn Monroe for Jack. Daphne Cole is going to be tough to cast being the most beautiful woman perhaps on the planet.

What is your favorite quality about yourself? I’m able to stay with something until it’s completed.

Buy Now @ Amazon & Smashwords

Genre – Political Thriller

Rating – PG

More details about the author & the book

Connect with Greg Sandora on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.gregsandora.com/

Alexandra Sokoloff – 10 Things You Didn’t Know About Becoming a Published Author

10 Things You Didn’t Know About Becoming a Published Author

by Alexandra Sokoloff

I’ve been a professional writer all my adult life (depending on what you want to call “adult”!). But writing books is still fairly new to me (six years, now). Before that I was a screenwriter for eleven years, which is quite different from writing books. There were a million things that surprised my about the author business – and life – as contrasted to the movie business. Here are just ten.

1. As a published author you travel ALL THE TIME.

Really, this shocked me.  As a screenwriter I would travel for research but the work takes place in Los Angeles. As an author I spend about a third of my time on the road.  I don’t do as many bookstore signings as I used to, partly because I’m mostly e publishing now, and partly because no one does as many bookstore signings anymore. But I do go to book conventions and writing conferences all the time, for signings, promotion and networking.  I love the travel – it’s a great balance to the solitude of the author life.

2. Readers want to know you.

This was another total shock. No one cares about screenwriters.  The movie studios work very hard to pretend you don’t exist. But the genre communities in the book world are like a big gypsy family. Many readers want to meet authors and interact with them personally on social media sites. They are passionate supporters of their favorite authors’ careers. I have been staggered at how generous readers are with both writing encouragement and promotional support. It’s a wonderful, symbiotic relationship that I have come to cherish.

3. Writing doesn’t get easier, but you do get more confident about it.

The more books you write, the more you realize that no matter what, you will figure out how to get to “The End”.  There will always be a point at which you think you’re going to have to give back the advance because you are never going to pull this thing off.  But after a couple of books, or five, you will remember that you have always thought that, and usually at about the same point in every book (“the three-quarter drop-dead” is what a film development friend of mine calls it.)  And you will keep going and you will finish and it will be fine.

4. The level at which you sell your first book is very difficult to break free from.

That sale price sets the price that the price for subsequent books will be based on.  So if you are thinking of writing a book I can tell you – it helps to write the BIGGEST book you can think of. You only get that chance to break in once.

5. You get to dress up. A lot.

This is one of the most fun surprises of being an author. Writing conventions are almost non-stop parties, which means I can change clothes all day and all night long. A lot of people go casual, but I really like dressing up, and I like wearing slightly outrageous things, and I’ve found readers really appreciate my fashion – um, risks. It’s a great conversational icebreaker.

6.  All those years of acting come in handy.

Before I started writing, I was a theater kid – I acted in school and community theater productions all the way through primary school, middle school and high school, I majored in theater in college, and I was in an improvisational theater troupe for a couple of years after college. I happen to think acting is a skill that comes in handy no matter what profession you decide to go into – who can’t benefit from learning how to engage and entertain an audience, whether it’s an audience of one or one thousand. But it is especially useful for an author since you are constantly interacting with the public – on panels, at book signings, for radio and TV interviews.  I have a comfort level with public speaking that serves me well in promotion, and I know how to not be boring, and even be funny, which is what readers really want from authors, I find!

7. There is nothing so wonderful as the company of other authors.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my screenwriter friends, but the movie business encourages cage-fight competition between screenwriters – for jobs, for credit, for recognition. Screenwriters are often very angry people. Authors don’t have that same pressure to compete. We don’t have to write to the specifications of a committee of executives and producers who all have different visions of the movie. It’s harder to write novels, but it’s also more relaxing – and more satisfying. Authors are in general very grounded, generous, supportive people.  And we all know exactly what we all go through every day. We don’t have to try to explain the insane process that writing is to anyone, because we all live it.  It’s an instant bond.

8. At least half of your work day is about promotion.

I know, that sounds high, but I think it’s realistic. This was a huge shock. But as distracting and frustrating as promotion can be, I still prefer it to the endless runaround of meetings I experienced as a screenwriter. The promotion takes a lot of time, but when you sit down to write, no one else is trying to tell you how to do it.  I’ll take promotion, thanks very much.

9. You get much more respect.

I said earlier that screenwriters are often very angry people. This is a lot because as the saying goes, “We don’t get no respect.”  Screenwriters are writers just as much as authors are, but for some reason many more people have a kind of awe about authors. We go to some mystical place and bring back a book. It IS awesome, when you think about it. But also surprising that so very many people see it that way.

10.  You get to meet all YOUR favorite authors.

You get to thank them for everything they have done for you. You get to be on panels with them. You get to drink and talk all night with them.  And often, they will actually read you. That is a mind-blowingly wonderful thing.

It’s a great life.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – Mystery / Thriller

Rating – PG13

More details about the author & the book

Connect with Alexandra Sokoloff on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://alexandrasokoloff.com/

Invasion: A Diabolical Onslaught by Michael Dismuke

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

MichaelDismuke

An otherworldly force opens a gate in a remote mountain range in Colorado and unleashes an alien organism into the forest. Once the gate opens, a shield is placed over the entire area blocking all communications in or out of the zone. It then releases a time pulse every 30 minutes locking everything inside the shield into a checkpoint. If anything destroys the gate, everything within the shield is reset back to the previous checkpoint before the gate was destroyed.

The organism is highly infectious and anything it touches mutates and joins the invading force. They become soldiers with a darker will and help spread the infection even further. Survivors caught within the shield try to escape and stop the organism from leaving, but something keeps destroying the gate, resetting time, and changing their fates.

INVASION is the first volume in the Darkness & Daemons series, event 1-10.

Buy Now @ Amazon & Smashwords

Genre – SciFi Horror

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author

Connect with  Michael Dismuke on Facebook & Twitter

#Free–Black Diamond by Jennifer Loiske @JenniferLoiske

Monday, October 14, 2013

Black Diamond by Jennifer Loiske

Amazon

Part One of McLean Twins Series
After her mom’s sudden death, twelve-year-old Shannon McLean has to move from the US to the English countryside to live with her mysterious father, Connor McLean, whom she hasn’t seen since she was a baby. Soon she discovers that he doesn’t want her around and her moving into his huge manor, Greyman Hill, is nothing more to him than a compulsory deal. But if he does not exactly give her a warm welcome, his servant Robert is most likely an incarnation of evil. He runs the house with an iron touch and makes everyone who works there his little puppets.
Weird things start to happen and the whole place scares the crap out of Shannon. Her dad can control her just by looking at her. The walls are full of secret passages and apparently she has the talent to awaken the ghosts in them. Every day is worse than the day before and she wants badly to run away but discovers it’s impossible. If she wants to stay alive she has to do exactly as her dad says or else she will not only jeopardize her own life but also the lives of the people around her.
While Shannon struggles to find the magic inside her, Connor is slowly turning into a demon. One carelessly spoken word from her could either save or destroy them both. In the end she has to decide whether to save herself and her loved ones, or lose her dad to the darkness and evil that threaten to eat his soul.

Relative Malice by Marla Madison @MarlaAMadison

Relative Malice by Marla Madison

Amazon Kindle US

Genre – Suspense

Rating – PG13

4.4 (60 reviews)

Free until 15 October 2013

When four family members are found dead after a home invasion, Detective Kendall Halsrud takes charge of the case. In the murder house, she discovers an empty crib with blood drops next to it on the wood floor. The family: a father, mother, teenage daughter, and young son have been fatally shot . . . but where is baby Philly?
The desperate search to find the child derails when a man is arrested for murdering the family and claims to have killed the baby. Suspecting he had an accomplice, Kendall isn’t convinced. Refusing to give up on finding the child, Kendall persists in unearthing the family’s secrets. With the help of a hacker turned spurious fortune-teller and a former cop hired by the missing baby’s uncle, she discovers a furtive pedophile ring is planning on buying and sharing a baby. Can she stop them while there's time to save Philly?

Accountability Leadership by Di Worrall

Di Worrall

Accountability Leadership Saves Tech Company

In 2005, HCL Technologies was in trouble.

The Delhi-based IT firm was losing market share, as competitors grew by 50% annually.

By 2009, HCL’s president, Vineet Nayar had turned the company around, nearly tripling annual revenues and doubling market capitalisation despite the recession.

Nayar accomplished all this through a top-down culture of accountability, beginning with the leadership qualities of himself—the CEO—and other senior managers.

The Rules Of Accountability Have Changed

Great business leaders understand that acceptance of greater personal accountability and responsibility leads organisations back on the path to success.

But with the evolving nature of 21st century business, the practical steps that go into creating a high performance culture of accountability have become more muddled than ever.

Many organisations have seen temporary improvements, implementing traditional systems of accountability in an attempt to drive high performance in the workplace—only to quickly revert back to their old ways, or worse.

Accountability Leadership Will Teach You:

  • What it really takes to lead a high performance culture of accountability
  • Why so many of today’s employees avoid personal accountability and responsibility like the plague, and how to reverse that trend
  • How to sustain great performance through inspiring feedback, feed-forward and follow-through
  • What an accountability plan is, how to create one, and why it’s considered the “secret weapon” behind successful business transformation

Filled with real world case studies and straightforward, easy to digest research, Accountability Leadership offers practical solutions that are direct, engaging, fast, cost-effective, proven, and easy to implement...

Immediate, Concrete Solutions You’ll Take Away From This Book Include:

  • How to transform the “dark side” of accountability into a positive force for change
  • Why carrots and sticks no longer work—and what they’ve been replaced with
  • How to create compelling consequences that inspire people to perform at their best, and achieve the ultra productive workstate known as “flow”
  • Crack the code of high accountability conversations, turning confrontation into a productive and positive opportunity

Accountability Leadership Also Sheds Light On Topics Like...

  • How negativity bias covertly sabotages your feedback loop with your employees
  • The optimal ratio for positive to negative comments in feedback
  • The right amount of autonomy to give employees—without overdoing it
  • What lack of recognition is really doing to your workforce (hint: it’s staggering)
  • The surprising biochemical effect of praise, and why it cannot fail

Plus, You’ll Also Receive A Special Bonus

Reader’s can claim an exclusive 20-minute podcast interview with top-rated thought leader Marshall Goldsmith, sharing his powerful experiences and groundbreaking ideas on coaching for accountability leadership—absolutely free.

A Personal Message From The Author

Accountability is arguably the number-one issue that makes or breaks leadership performance today. Yet most of us were never taught this critical skill—not by our parents, teachers or business leaders.

The good news is, accountability can be coached.

The ideas in this book draw from extensive research and 25 years experience working with executives to improve performance through high accountability.

These ideas work.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - Business, Leadership, Workplace Behaviour, Human Resources, Executive Coaching

Rating – PG

More details about the author

Connect with Di Worrall on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.diworrall.com.au/

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Keeper of Reign (Reign Fantasy) by Emma Right

Saturday, October 12, 2013

1 - ONE NIGHT

THE LAST THING Jules Blaze thought of before he closed his eyes was how he, how anyone, could undo the curse his people were under. He was in the middle of a dream, a nightmare as far as he was concerned, begging Grandpa Leroy and Grandma Bonnie not to leave, when someone banged on their front door, shaking their entire tree house.

Who’d be crazy enough to disturb them at this hour? He sat up on his bed and cocked his head. His mother’s soft tread tap-tapped on the wood floor.

“Who’s there?” her muffled voice asked, harsh and whispery from sleep.

The banging stopped.

“Erin, open up.” Saul’s voice, gruff and loud, jolted the last fog of sleepiness from Jules. He peered over at his brother sleeping noiselessly in the bunk below him, and quietly slipped down the ladder. On tiptoe he sneaked to the trapdoor opening that led down to the living room where Saul stood dripping from the rain.

“Is everything okay?” Erin said.

“Would I visit now if it were?” Saul said. Then in a gentler voice he added, “I’m sorry. Please, let’s take a seat, Erin.” He nodded at Jules who’d slipped down the pull-down ladder to join them. “Jules.” Jules thought about his father at the war front and swallowed a lump in his throat. Was this why Dad hadn’t sent any word to them for the last months? Because he couldn’t?

Saul held Erin by the arm. He led her to the dining room chairs behind the sofa covered with knitted shawls and afghan throws.

Jules trudged to the window and peered at the branches outside. The arm of the oak tree grew so thick they could easily live in it, although getting up there could be a problem, especially since he was afraid of heights. These days they didn’t even live in stone houses, or even wooden ones, unless living under a tree counted as a wooden home. Elfies lived in trees, or burrowed under rocks, in the forest of Reign.

“Take a seat, Jules.” Saul locked eyes on him for an instant. “I just received word from the riverfront patrol—Leroy and Bonnie’s boat capsized in the storm. They’re searching for the bodies, but it doesn’t look good.”

Erin let out a gasp and brought a fist to her mouth. “No!”

“Boat? How can they be sure it was them?” Jules leaned forward in his chair.

“Some of their belongings floated to shore, and I identified the wreck—the pieces drifted to the bank.”

Erin looked at him blankly.

Saul said, again, “The boat…was a wreck.”

“Boat?” Erin said.

“I’d loaned it to them.”

“Why?”

Saul looked at the ceiling. “They’d wanted to get across to Handover.”

“Handover? That’s preposterous. After telling us never to cross the river and saying how dangerous Handover is?” Erin’s voice sounded angry amidst her sobs.

Saul pushed his chair back and stood. He reached into the cloak of his pocket, brought out a few items and laid them on the dining table. “Some things to remember your folks by.” And with that he turned and stalked back out into the dripping night.

Jules stared at his grandpa’s pocket watch, the green felt hat the old man always wore, especially on damp days, and his grandma’s silk scarf she donned when the wind ruffled her snowy white hair. Erin sobbed more violently, and Jules stood behind his mother’s back, leaned over and hugged her trembling shoulders.

Keeper of Reign

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - Young Adult Adventure Fantasy  

Rating – G

More details about the author & the book

Connect with Emma Right on Facebook & Facebook (Keeper of Reign)

Website http://www.emmaright.com/Home.aspx

A Widow Redefined by Kim Cano

Chapter 3

“Mom. How was swimming?” Tyler asked as I walked in the front door.

I was so upset I’d never gone. But I had to say something. “It was good, honey. I’m on my way to getting into shape.” I inwardly cringed as I spoke the words.

White lie upon white lie. They began to compound so quickly, I feared they’d bring some kind of return.

After dinner, Tyler had me critique some of his drawings. He was really getting good. And I had a thought, one that I blurted out before analyzing the affordability factor.

“What would you think of taking a weekly art class? From a private instructor?” I asked.

My son shot me a look filled with wild excitement. I hadn’t expected such an intense reaction.

“Can I really take one? Can we afford it?”

The worried look in his eyes broke my heart. He shouldn’t know these things. Mom and I would have to take better care to discuss finances in private.

Not sure how it could be done, I responded, “Sure honey, we’ll just find someone who’s offering a special deal for new students.”

My reply was casual, dismissive of the ins and outs of how it would all come together, but it brought the mood back to where it was supposed to be: positive. And for the rest of the evening I scoured the internet, searching for art teachers.

I found an ad for a local woman and clicked to her website. She looked like just a kid. She offered one-on-one classes out of her home, which conveniently happened to be less than a mile away. Her rates were reasonable too. I didn’t know how good she would be; no reviews had been posted. But after looking over her qualifications, I noticed she had recently graduated from a prestigious art college in Savannah, Georgia. She’ll do, I decided.

•••••

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – Women’s Fiction

Rating – PG

More details about the author & the book

Connect with Kim Cano on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.kimcano.com/