Showing posts with label fantasy novels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy novels. Show all posts

Monday, November 25, 2013

  SK-Gregory-Long      


Samantha GregoryAuthor 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
 





About The Book
Book genre - Fantasy/horror.
Publisher - Mockingbird Lane Press, Maynard AR, USA.
Release Date - January 2013


Daemon PersuasionSynopsis

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 didnt know she was pregnant until after he was gone.
The bakery you worked in, was that in your home town?”
Her mother nodded, “Yeah, its 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 dont 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.”



SK-Gregory-Long

Follow The Tour Here

 




Monday, July 15, 2013

Book Promo & Giveaway: The Secret Guardian by Wes Dodd


The Secret Guardian
by Wes Dodd



Wes Dodd was born in Lynchburg, Virginia in 1958, currently residing in Southside Virginia. He has two daughters and three grandchildren. Within the last couple years he has discovered a passion for creating and breathing life into great stories. He has published three novels: The Crimson Key, a mystery, The Secret Guardian, fantasy and Saving Faith, a romantic thriller.










The Secret Guardian
Genre: Fantasy
Publisher: CreateSpace & BookTango
Release Date: April 2013

Book Description:

A Sacred Society exists amongst us all. Believed only as a myth—its origin thrives in secret. Once transformed, each generation of its members become the elite of our society—some for good and some for evil as well. Troy Anthony, unknowingly and somewhat unwillingly, is about to join the elite, like his father before him. It takes a close family friend to ultimately expose the Secret to Troy, revealing his true destiny, and then she becomes a valuable ally. They inadvertently share a unique bond—one of which many doubt its very existence. Troy is taken to two magical places where he learns many secrets of the world, many of which we all have been curious about. It becomes an epic battle where Troy clashes with an evil tyrant, his father’s assassin, a distant cousin sharing many of Troy’s unique abilities.




Claire Anthony suddenly rose up in bed, escaping the nightmare which held her hostage. Breathing heavily as if running from fear, she threw back the deep heavy quilts and sat nervously on the edge of her bed. Still shaken, beads of sweat rolled down her forehead, gently sloping along her narrow cheekbones. Her silken auburn brown hair was drenched along the hairlines. She sighed heavily as she glanced at the clock on her night stand—2 a.m.
This was not a rare nightmare, but rather a recurring one, brought on by a Secret she had kept for many years, an ancient secret known by only a few. She needed to reveal the Secret to her son, Troy, even sooner than she wished. The Secret would change their lives forever if Troy decided to fulfill his destiny—like his father before him.
She noticed a mysterious shadow lingering on her rug from the bright moon shining through her window. Driven by curiosity, she walked to the window to take a peek, as if searching for someone or something in particular. The brilliance from the moon illuminated the entire farmyard, almost like day. After a thorough examination and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she quietly returned to bed. She once again buried herself within heavy handmade quilts passed down to her from her grandmother, most of which Claire as a child watched her make.
Claire and her son, Troy, lived on her grandparents’ farm in Virginia where she was raised. She lost both of her parents in an auto accident when she was barely eight years of age. When her grandparents both passed, she inherited the farm. She and Troy moved back there after the loss of her husband, Bruce, in the North Tower during the 9/11 attacks in New York City. Much like herself, Troy had to deal with death at a very early age. After the tragedy and some healing time, she thought it best to get her son out of the city, which prompted her move back to the farm. The farm was nestled in a small valley amongst the Blue Ridge Mountains near the sleepy little town of Sweet Springs. Claire recollected the good times she had growing up there. The clean fresh country air and the friendly people made it a perfect place for raising her son and teaching him strong values. The beautiful scenery and a laid-back lifestyle made it perfect for her as well.
Claire was a slender woman of forty years, about five-and-a-half feet in height. Her vivid green eyes and captivating smile made everyone take notice when she entered a room. Even with hints of gray blending in with her auburn brown hair, she appeared to be at least ten years younger than her age. Many men had come calling on her, but she had turned them all away—graciously.
The next morning dawned cool and crisp with a bite in the air that rendered noses and cheeks rosy red, much like good old Saint Nick’s. The heavy frost had the appearance of a coating of freshly fallen snow. As the sun peeked over the horizon, the trees sparkled and glimmered as if infused with magic. The hillsides were speckled orange with pumpkin patches. The valley was consumed with the fragrance of seasoned oak and hickory burning in fireplaces. In the home of Claire and Troy, the aroma of freshly cooked bacon filled every room—making your tongue tingle, mouth water and stomach cry.
This aroma awakened Troy every morning at 6:30 sharp. He would always leap out of bed, bounce down the stairs, and be at the table anxiously waiting before his mother could finish preparing breakfast. This morning was oddly different. Claire had finished cooking and Troy was not yet at the table. She glanced at her grandmother’s antique clock on the old mantle—6:45. She was astonished, for she had never had to call him for breakfast before. She made her way to the hallway, then called up the stairs, “Troy, are you up yet?”






Friday, July 12, 2013

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.



Genre: Fantasy

Publisher: Twilight Times Books
Release Date: May 15, 2013

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.








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!”

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

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.








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.





Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...