Wizdom and Pandora by K.M. Woodard (Book Blast & Giveaway)

About The Author:

A lifetime resident of the Washington, DC area, K.M. Woodard has always enjoyed the outdoors and loves to 

travel. After working 17 years with the MetLife Insurance Company, she pursued her career as a Federal Law

Enforcement Agent with Homeland Security and has a Masters Degree in Criminology. A true Tolkien fan, her 

passion for medieval and ancient times and her personal travel adventures often inspire ideas for new books.

Her active imagination and fascination with escaping reality to a world of enchantment, mystery and suspense

has resulted in a series of novels sure to delight readers looking for fast-paced adventure at every twist and 

turn, interspersed with a smidgen of humor.

Author Links - 

www.wizdomandpandora.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/WizdomandPandora

Twitter: @wizdomandpandor

Goodreads member/blog: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7380415.K_M_Woodard

Amazon link: http://www.amazon.com/Wizdom-And-Pandora-Quest-Blood/dp/1468538020/ref=sr_1_1?

ie=UTF8&qid=1400258256&sr=8-1&keywords=wizdom+and+pandora

Book Genre: Young Adult/Fiction/Fantasy

Publisher: Authorhouse

Release Date: 10/30/2014

Buy Link(s): AMAZON: http://www.amazon.com/Wizdom-And-Pandora-Quest-Blood/dp/1468538020/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1400258256&sr=8-1&keywords=wizdom+and+pandora

AUTHORHOUSE: http://bookstore.authorhouse.com/Products/SKU-000536911/WIZDOM-AND-PANDORA.aspx

Book Description:

Wizdom didn't know dragons really existed. He's never ridden a white woolly mammoth or flown on a griffin. He's never known a real king or a princess or been friends with a goblin. Wizdom's never seen elves that glow blue all the time. All he's ever known are his adoptive mother and his aunt Kayden. One day he finds himself in a secret world, face to face with dragons and fire monsters. He meets an interesting girl, Pandora, who he learns is no ordinary girl, just as he is no ordinary boy. Wizdom soon finds himself on a magical journey full of secrets, sorcery, danger and evil. He fights many fierce battles and faces certain death as his quest leads him on an adventure like never before as he discovers his true identity . . . or does he?

Excerpt:

Wizdom stared in awe, unconsciously holding his breath, as

he looked up the endless staircase of gleaming black marble

before him. The air around him was damp and musty and tickled his

nostrils. Cobwebs hung overhead, dangling high above him from the

towering ceiling. Perched at the top of the stairs was a large, golden

dragon throne. Sitting on white marble, it was surrounded by statues

of goblins, gargoyles and other strange creatures. They all stared back

disconcertingly at Wizdom, some with tongues out, others with piercing

eyes, bared teeth or pointed ears. The dragon’s head held its mouth

agape, as if ready to devour him, revealing a long golden tongue jutting

out and sharp pointed teeth. The arms of the throne were created by

the front legs of the dragon and the claws made up the feet of the chair.

A huge tail jutted out from the back of the chair and coiled around

to the front like a sitting cat. Three spikes on the tail’s end glistened

in piercing diamond shards. Giant wings stood out from the dragon’s

back, poised for flight, black and shimmering like dark sapphires. Its

eyes were large rubies, and its body was sprinkled in faceted jewels.

Two spiraling horns jutted out from its head, over a foot of solid gold,

with diamonds on the tips. Held within the horns shone an enormous

crimson red stone, casting an eerie glow and dancing shadows over the

stone statues surrounding it.

What was this place? Where was he? He dared to move forward,

ever so slowly, toward this great altar. His pulse racing, palms sweating,

he paused momentarily, staring up at the dragon’s red gleaming eyes.

As he approached the stairs, the dragon’s fiery eyes stared down at him

unnervingly, as if it was alive, watching him.

Wizdom wondered about how he had gotten there. How did he

get here? He glanced around the great hall surrounding him. Flickering

candles, sconces and torches aligned the walls of marbled stone. The

ceiling was several stories high and great pillars supported the wooden

arches above him. Shadows and darkness surrounded him, except for

the faint glow of the iron torches, and the scarlet glow of the jewel

radiating from the dragon’s crown jewel. He could feel some sort of

power emanating from it as he stood there. It made him feel happy and

safe, despite his surroundings.

Suddenly, he saw movement out of the corner of his left eye. He

looked quickly, but saw nothing. Turning to scurrying sounds to his

right, he still saw nothing but black. Was he imagining things? Because

of the obscuring darkness, he could not see very far, only as far as the

torches lining the walls. He was only eleven but he was an adventurer

and never scared and despite his current situation, he normally loved

mysteries and secret places. Unconsciously, his pulse kept racing as

the silence crept eerily around him… 

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Author Bio

 

Samantha Gregory lives in Northern Ireland. She has been writing since she could hold a pen and loves the supernatural/horror genre. She works as a freelance journalist and enjoys reading and playing guitar.

   

Author Links

www.skgregory.com

http://daemon-persuasion.tumblr.com/

https://www.facebook.com/#!/daemonpersuasion

www.twitter.com/sam_skgregory

https://www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard 

 

About The Book

Book genre - Fantasy/horror.

Publisher - Mockingbird Lane Press, Maynard AR, USA.

Release Date - January 2013

Buy - Amazon | Barnes and Noble

Synopsis

When Mackenzie Murphy goes looking for her father she finds herself caught in the middle of a demon war between three rival families. Still trying to master her own demon abilities, who can she trust to help her? The mysterious Lucien? Or Taryn, the son of the enemy? With all three families hunting for a talisman that could shift the balance of power, Mackenzie must get to it first and finish what her father started, or die trying.

Excerpts

Mackenzie sat tapping her foot nervously, waiting for her mother to appear. She shifted in the hard plastic chair trying to get comfortable. She hated this place with the cold stares from the inmates and the prison guards watching her every move. Mostly, she hated the fact that her mother had to be here for the next twenty years.

Her mother had no memory of the night Ray died. She had been found lying by his body. He had been stabbed with a kitchen knife fourteen times.

Her lawyer had called it self-defense, the judge had called it murder one. All Mackenzie knew was that Ray had gotten exactly what he deserved and her mother was being punished for it.

Annie finally appeared, her face pale and drawn. Her blonde hair, so different from Mackenzie’s own dark curls, hung limp and unwashed. She moved like a woman twice her age. Shuffling towards the table, her eyes lit up when she saw Mackenzie.

“Baby, how are you?” she said, clutching her hand.

“I’m fine, are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“No, I have everything I need,” her mother, replied. She stared at Mackenzie, taking everything in.

“Mom, don’t do the staring thing.”

“You look great. How’s school?” she asked.

“School’s great,” Mackenzie replied. At least it was the last time she rode past it. She had tried the whole school thing for about half a semester but it hadn’t worked out. She just pretended she was still there to keep her mother happy.

“Do you have a boyfriend yet?”

“No. I’m concentrating on school.” It bothered her sometimes how easily she could lie and how convincing she could be. It was a useful skill at work but she hated lying to her mother.

“Good, that’s good,” Annie said, patting her hand.

“What’s that?” her mother asked, pulling back her sleeve to reveal a bad scrape.

“It’s nothing.” Mackenzie pulled her arm away.

“Did someone do that to you?”

“No, I had an accident. I came off my motorbike.”

“Motorbike? Your daddy used to ride a motorbike,” she said.

“He did?” Her mother never went into any detail about her father. He had left her before Mackenzie was born. When Mackenzie was younger, Annie would lament about their summer together but she never gave any useful information away. All she knew was that her father was called Sebastian King. She had done a few searches online for him but she couldn’t find any matches.

“Yes. I remember he was fixing it when we first met. It broke down outside the bakery, where I worked. He was so handsome.”

“Why did he leave you?” Mackenzie asked. In the past when she would ask questions, her mother would shut down and refuse to answer. Lately though she seemed to have trouble discerning fantasy from reality and she was talking more and more about him.

“He was in trouble. He was only in town to visit Mr. Black”

“Mr. Black?” she said, trying not to push.

“He owned a pawn store. He was only planning to stay for a couple of days but he was there for three months.” Her mother’s eyes clouded over as she was caught up in the memory.

That was more information than Mackenzie had ever heard. She wondered if this Mr. Black knew where her father was. She had often thought about him over the years, where he was now, whether he even knew about her. Her mom didn’t know she was pregnant until after he was gone.

“The bakery you worked in, was that in your home town?”

Her mother nodded, “Yeah, it’s this tiny little town. When I was younger all I wanted to do was come to LA and now not a day goes by that I don’t wish I was back in East Falls.”

East Falls. She finally had a name, somewhere to start.

“Maybe we can go back there when you get out,” Mackenzie said.

Her mother realized what she had said, “You wouldn’t want to go there honey. It is nothing like LA and I know you. You’re a city girl.”

“I wouldn’t mind roughing it for a few days,” she replied.

 “No, Mac. The past is the past. Leave it where it is.”

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Book Blast: Cassie Scot: ParaNormal Detective (Book 1) by Christine Amsden

Cassie Scot:

ParaNormal Detective (Book 1)

About The Author:

Christine Amsden has been writing science fiction and fantasy for as long as she can remember. She loves to write and it is her dream that others will be inspired by this love and by her stories. Speculative fiction is fun, magical, and imaginative but great speculative fiction is about real people defining themselves through extraordinary situations. Christine writes primarily about people and it is in this way that she strives to make science fiction and fantasy meaningful for everyone.

At the age of 16, Christine was diagnosed with Stargardt’s Disease, a condition that effects the retina and causes a loss of central vision. She is now legally blind, but has not let this slow her down or get in the way of her dreams. (You can learn more here.)

In addition to writing, Christine teaches workshops on writing at Savvy Authors. She also does some freelance editing work.

Christine currently lives in the Kansas City area with her husband, Austin, who has been her biggest fan and the key to her success. They have two beautiful children, Drake and Celeste.

Website | Twitter

Genre: Fantasy

Publisher: Twilight Times Books

Release Date: May 15, 2013

Amazon

Book Description:

Cassie Scot is the ungifted daughter of powerful sorcerers, born between worlds but belonging to neither. At 21, all she wants is to find a place for herself, but earning a living as a private investigator in the shadow of her family’s reputation isn’t easy. When she is pulled into a paranormal investigation, and tempted by a powerful and handsome sorcerer, she will have to decide where she truly belongs.

Read The First Chapter Here

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Praise for the Cassie Scot Series:

From Publisher’s Weekly:

“In this entertaining series opener, Amsden (The Immortality Virus) introduces readers to the eponymous Cassie, a decidedly mundane member of a magical family. …Readers will enjoy Cassie’s fish-out-of-water struggles as she fights magical threats with little more than experience and bravado.”

Kim Falconer, bestselling author of The Spell of Rosette, Quantum Enchantment Series, had this to say:

“When sorcerers call the shots, what’s a girl without powers to do? Get ready for a ripper of a murder mystery full of romance and intrigue, where magic potions bubble, passions spark and vampires are definitely not your friend. Cassie Scot: ParaNormal Detective grabs you by the heart and won’t let go until the very last page. Well written, immersive and unputdownable. This is urban fantasy at its best. More please!”

Book Tour & Giveaway: The Torment, The Shadow, The Heart by T.M. Shannon

The Torment, The Shadow, The Heart

by T.M. Shannon

Genre: Epic/Heroic Fantasy
Publisher: Self-published through CreateSpace.com
Release Date: 11 February, 2013
Amazon

Book Description:

“To a kingdom facing darkness, a Hero will come…”

As the King of Talbadas nears his end, and treasonous parties seek to usurp the throne, young farmer Halm Dresden finds that his father’s dying advice, the actions of two elves, and a nightmare vision have put him on a destined path. While impressionable youth and some of his friends join this treacherous league, Dresden has a sword made and prepares for looming conflict…

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About The Author:

T.M. Shannon works full time, pays rent, and has a head full of ideas.

He is currently living the dream in Sydney, Australia with his darling other half, and a 99% well-behaved son.


TM Shannon Blog | History of Talbadas | Facebook

Excerpt 1 - “Grab”

Dresden got to his feet, stretched his arms and legs, and cracked his neck and knuckles both. He looked to his family with eyes that no longer showed compassion, but dreadful finality; and he made peace with the possibility that he may never see them again.

“Dresden?” Kethis asked uncertainly. Bindie and Gorden peered at him.

“This will not be,” he said bluntly, his voice calmly level, different. “I will not have my family, nor the people of my town, fear for their lives.” He had nothing else to say; and having uttered those words, he strode for the hallway.

“Mum, where is he going?” Gorden asked excitedly. “Where are you going, Dresden?!”

He moved for the study, his eyes set in cold, calculating slits. “Out for a walk,” he growled…

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Guest Post & #Giveaway with Lane Heymont - The Freedman and the Pharaoh's Staff

The Freedman and the Pharaoh's Staff

by Lane Heymont

When I first wrote, rather finished, The Freedman and the Pharaoh’s Staff I went down the traditional route of querying agents. I have a list of every agent I ever queried...92 to be exact. Forty of which were rejections, half a dozen partial requests, and a few more full requests. Overall, I would say fifty were no responses, IF I'm being kind to myself.

It took me six months to find an agent. Admittedly I felt foolish saying, "It took me six months!" Why? Well, because some people never find agents. This isn't to say you can't get published without one! So, don't worry, there are plenty of small presses, e-pubbers, and other means out there for unagented authors.

Before I “sold” The Freedman and the Pharaoh’s Staff my agent and I ended up parting ways—he fell ill. So, I hit the grindstone myself, and eventually ended up at Sunbury Press, Inc.

Luck I suppose. 

Back to rejections. I was ecstatic about the first few rejections that came. RESPONSES? YAY! But, a dozen rejections in and I thought, "This sucks." When I reached 20 rejections—peppered with some requests—I faltered. It’s not easy to maintain while “losing”, but that’s the crux of this rant. 

When querying and/or piling on rejections there is no losing. Each rejection teaches you something—even if it’s just to grow that thick skin all writers must.  Through out my querying I was already writing my second novel, and that's what helped stave off the rejection blues. NEVER STOP WRITING! If you're a writer you need to write. It’s in your blood. 

Back to querying agents. It's hard, draining, time-consuming (if you're doing it right), but full of hope, excitement, and can often be dream shattering. Yeah I said it—it can and probably will at some point drag you into the depths of chocolate and ice cream.

That's life. We live in a world of failure and success. But you must continue on through the failure. You begin any process as a failure, and you are one until you succeed. Heck, Einstein failed math and was a patent clerk. However, he never gave up until he was a success. Metaphorically speaking?

Your job as a writer is to write and query if you want to get published. It's like anything else. In order to get results you need to do the work.

Whenever the rejection blues got so overwhelming that they threatened to crush my determination, I reminded myself of H.P. Lovecraft. He earned over 200 rejections before getting published. That's right, the master of the Cthulhu Mythos received over 200 letters saying, "Tough cookies, Mr. Lovecraft. You’re stuff’s too weird and will never sell." And do you know what he did with those 200 rejection letters?

Lovecraft plastered the walls of his office with each letter saying “screw off”. The office that gave birth to one of the most frightening literary mythos was lined floor to ceiling with rejection letters. 

Two hundred? Jeez, I only got forty! Now THAT is one dedicated author, AND he didn't stop writing while querying.

All a rejection letter means is "try again" and Lovecraft knew it. He never gave up, and neither should you. We all deserve the life we want. So, just take it. Query. Query. Write. Write. Write. Query, Query, and Query some more.

*Expanded from an earlier/crummier post of mine.

About The Author:

Lane Heymont was born in Pennsylvania. He earned a BA in Liberal Arts with a focus on literature and history. He also holds a double minor in psychology and business. After college, he turned his focus back to writing. Lane has several short stories published, one of which was recommended for the 2012 Bram Stoker Award in short fiction.

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Genre: Historical, Fantasy, Slipstream
Publisher: Sunbury Press, Inc.

Release Date: December 23, 2012

Buy: Amazon

Book Description:

Jeb, a former slave, rescues his brother-in-law Crispus from the Ku Klux Klan, pulling him into a world of Creole Voodoo, hatred, time travel, and redemption. The two brothers-in-law set out to stop Verdiss and his Klan followers from using the Pharaoh's Staff, a magical artifact from ancient Egypt. Soon, Jeb and Crispus learn Verdiss’ diabolical plan and discover that he is working for an even more evil force. In the end Jeb and Crispus must stop the eradication of an entire people and each must find redemption for his own past sins.

Excerpt:

Allenville flashed in Jeb’s head. Bodies burning, people tortured and brutalized in the streets. Somehow he felt the same thoughts in Fallon. The way his slender hand tightened around his when he’d said the word. He imagined hatred blistering inside the boy. Maybe the need for a father blinded him. Thank the Lawd–that ain’t the case no more…I hope.

“Jeb. Fallon. This way. I found a mambo a few blocks away on Laurel Street.” Crispus’s voice broke through the crowd.

“Come on!” Fallon pulled Jeb through the throng of people. Crispus’s voice always sounded just beyond them, amidst the night madness of Baton Rouge. “Wait!”

“Where’d he go?” Jeb tugged on Fallon’s hand, pushing aside a doughy man.

“He took a right down Nacadian Road. Wait, Crispus!” The hideous ensemble of vendors, farriers, knackers, and other merchants crying out their goods seemed to drown out the boy’s call.

One moment, mayhem wracked the market, the next it fell silent. Fallon stopped, so Jeb did. He couldn’t move, the herd seemed to stop stampeding. Footfalls echoed in the street. The crowd spread. Then came the heavy clacks of soldier’s boots on the flagstones. A band of men, too many to tell. But Jeb knew them by the procession’s cadence–Confederate soldiers. Men clad in gray uniforms marching through Baton Rouge. No doubt, they’d be Klansmen too. Shouts of jubilation spread like wildfire among the townspeople.

“Kill them carpetbaggers!” came a woman’s elegant voice.

“Long live the general!”

“The South shall rise again!” shouted a boy.

Jeb felt the panic in Fallon’s hand, his heartbeat racing as he pulled him away. “What general? I know that cadence like I know my field.” Jeb focused on dodging whatever lay in his way, stumbling over garbage and bumping into people.

Fallon stammered over his words, “Not–not–nothing. Nathan Bedford Forrest?” He gasped, tightening his grip on Jeb.

Somehow Jeb overcame his instincts, keeping his head bowed. Not daring to look up in fear that monster of a man would see him. Though blind, Jeb saw Forrest clad in the gray Confederate officer’s uniform, adorned with medals. He’d seen photos of him. Tall, in his fifties, a receding hairline and a curly mane of black hair. A well-kept goatee tinged gray like his uniform.

I can end it all. Fight through the crowd. A single shot to the head. To hell with being blind, I can do it. For a moment Jeb meant it, caressing his pistol. It’d be easy. Instead, he listened to the Ku Klux Klan founder, savior of the white race, and ender of Reconstruction, parade along the street. Celebrated by a throng of who knew how many people. They were closer now, close enough for Jeb to count them. Four guards following him. Plus Forrest, that’s five. Six shot pistol. Just enough for one miss. He gripped his pistol. It didn’t matter that the crowd loved Forrest, even cheered him on. Six rounds is enough. Jeb edged his pistol free from its holster.

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