Brain to Books Blog Tour – Annette Mardis

Fast Facts

Author: Annette Mardis
Genre:Contemporary romantic suspense
Books: Shore to Please, Gulf Shore series Book 3

Official Site

Bio

Annette Mardis (1)Annette is a veteran newspaper journalist who holds to the adage “write what you know.” A native Floridian, she fell in love with dolphins as a child watching Flipper on television. Now, she volunteers at Clearwater Marine Aquarium, where she educates guests, leads tours, and gives presentations, and is a member of the Stranding (rescue) Team and the Sea Turtle Patrol. She immortalizes her pets in her books: Ozzie the African gray parrot, affectionately known as her “little boy in a bird suit”; and her beloved dogs Cocoa and Shelby, who have supporting roles in Shore to Please as Taco and Kirby.

BLURB

Tara Langley thought she’d found the love of her life, but he betrayed her with another woman. So she buried herself in her mission: convincing Gulf Shore Aquarium that dolphins and whales belong in the wild, not in artificial pools.
If Tara had her way, Paul “Flipper” O’Riley would lose the job he loves. Flipper is the head dolphin trainer, and the aquarium’s dolphins are his babies. While he’s open to having a real family one day, Tara is the last person he would choose to be his wife and the mother of his children.
These two should be sworn enemies, after all. He certainly swears at the sight of her. And his surfer-dude looks and lover-boy reputation aren’t exactly what Ms. Prim and Tidy had in mind when she pictured her ideal man.
But in the age-old way of opposites attracting, Tara and Flipper find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other. There’s no possible way a relationship between them could work, right?
As the two try to find common ground amid the quicksand, Flipper and his coworkers become the targets of an increasingly more menacing campaign to force the aquarium to release the dolphins under its care. Will Gulf Shore Police Detective Joanna Tompkins catch the culprit before it’s too late?

BOOK REVIEW

On Amazon.com from reader Sue D. Clarke:

Never suspected the culprit!
With so many possible suspects out to harm Flipper, Tara and the people who worked at GSA, it was hard to figure out who the real threat was. I got very caught up in the story, and the cast of characters became very real to me. Also enjoyed learning about all that goes on behind the public eye to make an aquarium succeed in helping all the sea creatures that they rescue. I have enjoyed all 3 books in this series.

EXCERPT

After Flipper and Tara end up attending the same seminar in Orlando, he offers to buy her dinner. After some hesitation, she gives in. It’s far from a romantic interlude, and they desperately search for common ground amid the quicksand.
“Where’d you grow up, and how’d you end up in Orlando?” Flipper asked.
Tara flashed an enigmatic smile. “You can’t tell by my accent?”
“What accent?”
“Precisely.”
His baffled expression amused her. In fact, the man himself delighted her when they weren’t picking at each other over his job and her cause. Once again she found herself wishing they’d met under different circumstances. But he couldn’t change what he was any more than she could.
“I’ll play along, mystery lady. What do you call a soft drink?”
“Soda.”
“Soda or soooda?”
She laughed. “Just one syllable. Now you tell me.”
“Growing up, I called everything coke.”
“Even when you were drinking root beer?”
“Yep. Everything was coke, lowercase.”
“And now?”
“After the first few times a server brought a Coke when I wanted a Dr. Pepper, I learned to specify. Okay, here’s another one. Do you refer to a small stream of water as a creek or a crick?”
“Creek, of course.”
“Me, too. What do you call your maternal grandmother?”
“Grandma. You?”
“Mimi. How do you address a group of two or more people?”
“My neighbors said you-uns, but my mother frowned on that expression.”
“Uh, okay. My people say y’all.”
“Hmm. What kind of shoes are you wearing now?”
Flipper looked at his feet and then at her. “Tennis shoes. What do you call them?”
“Sneakers. All right, one more.”
“Make it a good one.”
“Of course. What’s the term for the gunk that gathers in the corners of your eyes overnight?”
“Eye booger.”
She made a sour face. “That’s certainly crude.”
“And what do you call it, Madam Etiquette?”
“Sleep.”
“Sleep? Seriously?”
“It’s a good deal better than”—she turned up her nose—”eye booger.”
“I think that’s pretty descriptive. I mean, you say those two words and everyone knows what you’re talking about.” She shook her head, still unconvinced. “Anyway, based on everything you’ve just told me, Tara, I’d say you’re from Snob City.”
“What? I am not a snob, Paul O’Riley.”
“We’re back to Paul, are we? Okay, how about Snootyburgh?”
“Flipper.” Her tone carried a warning.
“Uppityville?”
The corners of her mouth quirked. “Are you finished?”
“Almost. Haughty Valley? Pompous Place?”
“Keep it up and Comedy Central will be calling.”
“You can’t deny you sometimes sound like you have a big board wedged up your butt.”
“I most certainly do not!” He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, perhaps I do, especially when I’m feeling off-balance and lapse back into ingrained habits. My mother was an English teacher who abhorred slang and insisted on proper diction. I never even dared utter a curse word until after I went away to college.”
“That explains a lot.”
Tara flashed him a fake smile and continued. “She wanted in the worst way for me to major in English language and literature. I’ve always felt like a disappointment to her. She takes great satisfaction in comparing me to my younger sister, who buckled under to the pressure and followed in Mother’s footsteps. If you think I have a proper way of speaking, you should meet Caroline. Even I think she’s a bore. She married an equally tedious math teacher, and they have two oddly spiritless children who never have snotty noses, sticky fingers, stained clothing, or skinned knees. My mother is beside herself with pride.”
“Your household must’ve been some fun while you were growing up.”
“You have no idea.”
“What about your father?”
“He was a high school principal preoccupied with upholding an image, so he and my mother were a united front. Now, back to our original topic. It’s my turn to do you.”
He winked at her. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I didn’t mean it that way! Stop laughing. And you wonder why I tend to avoid the vernacular.”
That made him laugh harder. She tried not to smile but couldn’t help it.
“Just for that,” she told him, “I’m going to guess you’re a native of the Isle of Fools.”
“Cute.”
“New Port Ninny? Buffoon Beach? Cape Cretin? Ooh, ooh, I know. Simpleton.”
Flipper gave her an indulgent look.
“Or how about—”
He leaned forward and silenced her with a kiss. Tara’s mind short-circuited, and she clung to his shoulders when he started to pull away. He cupped the back of her head and teased her mouth open with his tongue. Swept up in the moment, she briefly forgot who and where they were until the server plunked two beverages in front of them. They broke apart with a start, and as reality intruded once more, she feigned interest in her place setting and the small bowl of lemons for their iced tea.
“Tara, honey, look at me,” he coaxed.
She spread her napkin over her lap instead. He reached across the table and, with gentle but firm pressure beneath her chin, lifted her head.
“Don’t be so freaked out. It was just a kiss,” he soothed.
“Oh, sure. First it was just dinner, now it’s just a kiss. What’s next?”
“Depends on what you want to happen?”
“Nothing, that’s what I want to happen. Flipper, what are we doing?”
“We’re having a nice time. Or at least we were until you started overthinking things again.”
“Overthinking? I’m not so sure my brain’s been engaged at all.” She ran a nervous hand through her hair.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it? There’s only one way this can end, and that’s badly. I’ve already endured one failed romance this year. I don’t think I could stand another one.”
Flipper took her busy hand and held it still. “Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself? You’re acting like we woke up in bed together after a night of scream-so-loud-you-piss-off-the-neighbors sex.”
The highlight reel in her mind made Tara’s girl parts leap up and shout, “Hallelujah!” Her tongue, on the other hand, seemed Super-Glued to the roof of her mouth. Staring at him was the best she could do at the moment.
“What? No snappy comeback?”
She shook her head.
“Well, that’s disappointing.”

CHARACTER INTERVIEW

Q: Go ahead and introduce yourself. Tell the audience about yourself.
A. Hi, everyone. My name is Paul “Flipper” O’Riley and I’m the head dolphin trainer at Gulf Shore Aquarium in Gulf Shore, Florida. Dolphins have fascinated me ever since my parents took me to SeaWorld when I was 10. My first career choice was to play Major League Baseball, but I realized in high school I’d never be good enough to compete at the highest level. So I decided to become a dolphin trainer, which requires a college education. My parents always struggled to make ends meet and told me the only way I’d go to college was on an athletic scholarship. I was a good outfielder with decent pop at the plate, and I busted my butt and managed to get that scholarship to a Baltimore school that had a very good animal behavior program.

Q: Tell us where and when you were born.
A. I was born 36 years ago in Alabama, and my family moved to St. Augustine, Florida when I was 12.

Q: How would you describe yourself?
A. People tell me I look like a surfer dude, and they assume I only care about how good I look in my wet suit and where I can catch the next wave. I may be kind of a simple guy with simple tastes, but I’m not empty-headed. I read a fair amount, am eager to learn new things, and have a variety of interests. I’ve worked very hard to get to where I am today, and I take my job very seriously. But I also like to have fun as much as the next guy, and I couldn’t cope with 50-hour work weeks if I didn’t enjoy what I do for a living. I think I have a natural rapport with people, which is a good thing because we spend a lot of time interacting with aquarium guests. I’ve got a good sense of humor. I’m a good friend, a good son, and a good boss. At some point in the future, I’ll be a good husband and father, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

Q: Tell us about where you grew up.
A. St. Augustine is the nation’s oldest city, celebrating its 450th birthday this year, and it’s a blend of the historic and the modern. It’s a tourist town, of course, and there’s a lot to do in the area, both cultural and recreational activities. I spent a lot of time at Anastasia State Park camping, fishing, swimming, kayaking, and walking the nature trails. Marineland, one of Florida’s first marine mammal parks, is close by, too.

Q: Tell everyone what it is you do when you’re not working as a dolphin trainer.
A. I like to play darts and pool and eat wings and drink beer at Bikini Barb’s Bar & Grill, which is our after-work hangout. I’m also a certified scuba per, I play softball, and I like to watch sports, especially baseball, on TV. I root for Tampa Bay’s sports teams — the Rays, Buccaneers, and Lightning — and attend games when I can. I’ve also gone to a couple of NASCAR races at Daytona International Speedway.

Q: Are you serious with anyone?
A. There’s a lady I’m really attracted to, Tara Langley, but she’s an animal rights activist and my boss would hit the ceiling if I spent any time with her. Besides, there’s no way we could ever make it work between us. But in my fantasies, we get along really, really well, if you know what I mean.

Q: Tell us about your worst fear.
A. I’m afraid of the nutcase who has been threatening the aquarium and demanding we release our dolphins into the wild. None of our dolphins would survive out there, so “setting them free” would be sentencing them to death. There’s also a small faction of extremists who think that dolphins would be better off dead than in “captivity.” My dolphins are like my kids, so if anything happened to them…well, I don’t want to think about that. And now I have to worry about my own safety and about my coworkers and friends, too, because the anonymous notes being sent to the aquarium are getting nastier.

As you might’ve guessed, I’ve got a lot on my mind lately. And I have this bad feeling that Tara will end up getting blamed for those threats. I’m not sure what I can do to help her, because my bosses get upset when I defend her. I predict things are about to get very interesting, and very dicey, in Gulf Shore.

Connect with Mardis

Blog: http://www.annettemardis.com/blog
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorAnnetteMardis
Twitter: @AnnetteMardis48
Amazon: www.amazon.com/Annette-Mardis/e/B00E5UHPMM/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/annettemardis/
Smashwords: www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Shelbypie
LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=221177296&trk=nav_responsive_tab_profile_pic
Google+ https://plus.google.com/+AnnetteMardis/
YouTube: www.youtube.com/channel/UCC1doptfvHDj7h7svO6ZtTA
Tsu: https://www.tsu.co/AnnetteMardis
iAuthor: http://www.iauthor.uk.com/profile/annettemardis48:9290

BUY LINKS

Liquid Silver Books: http://www.lsbooks.com/shore-to-please-p1026.php
Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/q9lmzsz

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shore-to-please-annette-mardis/1121964097?ean=9781622102297
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/shore-to-please

All Romance: www.allromanceebooks.com/product-shoretoplease-1839913-153.html

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/shore-to-please/id996612777?mt=11

GIVEAWAY

I’m giving away digital copies of my first Gulf Shore book, The Shore Thing, to the first three people who sign up for my newsletter on Aug. 26, my day on the Brain to Books blog tour. The free book offer will be posted at www.annettemardis.com. The form to sign up for the newsletter is at http://www.annettemardis.com/contactsubscribe.html.

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Alex Taylor

Fast Fact

Author: Alex Taylor
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Books: The Wannabe Vampire from the Michael Alexander/Kari Logan series

Official Site

Bio

Alex Taylor (1)Alex Taylor is the author of the Michael Alexander/Kari Logan vampire series:

•  The Wannabe Vampire
•  Shampires

Alex is currently working on several projects, including the third and fourth books in the series.

While born and raised in Lompoc, California, a small town much like the one described in The Wannabe Vampire, Alex had the opportunity to travel extensively as a child. In 1977, the family packed up and moved aboard their sailboat, where they spent two years touring the South Pacific.

When not writing vampire stories, Alex enjoys camping, blogging, reading, and playing with parrots. Alex’s first RV was very much like the one Kari owns, but this is a total coincidence.

Blurb

Alex Taylor (2)Michael Alexander is not your typical vampire.

He has a house in a small coastal California city, a software development team in Mumbai, and a black Toyota Prius. He wants nothing more than to enjoy the pleasant life he’s crafted for himself and the friendship of Kari, his new next door neighbor.

Unfortunately, Michael also has a stalker.

Bruce is convinced that only the power of a vampire can save him from the ghost that haunts him. After a chance encounter in the grocery store, he turns to Michael for help. When Bruce’s entreaties are rejected, his unstable nature takes over. Trapped between a desperate and deranged man and his fantasies, Michael and Kari are caught in the crossfire.

Review

Kudos to author Alex Thomas for putting together a modern-day tale of a vampire falling in love and NOT ravishing the object of his affections. Good to know there are still some honorable undead left out there. – Vampbard, That’s what I’m Talking About

Excerpt

Ever since he was nine years old, Bruce Thomas wanted to become a vampire. It had started, quite innocently enough, as a game he had once played with his now-dead sister Louise. One night, they attempted to conjure up a ghost. It was Louise’s plan to frighten her younger sibling.

The spirit in question was that of a young woman named Agnes who had been killed in a terrible car accident nearly a century before. One summer night, she had been driving on a lonely, dark stretch of twisting mountain highway. She lost control and plummeted over the sheer cliff. The accident occurred in an era long before safety belt laws and car seats, so her infant daughter was riding unsecured in the front. When the car went over the edge, the child flew out the open passenger-side window and disappeared.

Several increasingly ghastly variations of the tale described the child’s end. In the happiest version, she was rescued, adopted, and raised to adulthood by a well-meaning passer-by. In another, she was found, killed, and consumed by coyotes. In the most ghastly telling, she was impaled on a tree branch and died a lingering death after which crows plucked out her sightless eyes.

However the child died, one thing was certain: Agnes’ desperate spirit regularly walked the lonely stretch of road in a futile search for her lost child. Sometimes, she would appear as a white woman walking along the side of the road, delivering an unhappy end to those who stopped to provide aid. On other nights, she would appear in the form of a white owl that would suddenly fly across a driver’s path, causing an ugly, and often fatal, wreck. No matter her form, unwary travelers risked meeting Agnes’ fate if they encountered her wandering and restless spirit along the road.

On that fateful night, Bruce and his sister huddled in the darkened guest bathroom. Louise handed Bruce her baby doll as bait for the ghost, then knocked three times on the mirror. “Agnes, I’ve got your baby,” she said.

Nothing happened.

She rapped on the mirror again, pausing for greater effect. “Agnes, I’ve got your baby.”

Finally, after knocking a third time, she shouted, “Agnes, I’ve got your baby!”

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the face of a woman materialized in the glass. She appeared, greenish and semi-transparent, as a partially decomposed corpse. Her shoulder-length hair seemed to squirm, snake-like, as her hands reached slowly out towards the two mesmerized children.

Louise screamed.

Suddenly, the spell was broken. The two children exploded from the bathroom and spilled into the well-lit hallway. Once they had escaped, Bruce burst into tears. His sister, breathless, started to laugh. During the commotion, Bruce had wet his pants.

Although Louise soon forgot about the incident, the fright and the shame of that night never left Bruce. He had been the one to hold Agnes’ baby; her revenge was that she began to visit him in his dreams. At first, she would replay the terrifying details of her accident. Later, she began to show him her wicked hauntings of innocent travelers.

As a result of Agnes’ torment, Bruce developed a bed-wetting problem. The poor boy, too terrified to leave his bed and venture down the hall, would urinate in the quiet comfort of his warm sheets, much to the consternation of his parents and the ridicule and delight of his elder sister.

As Bruce grew, Agnes’ visits became more frequent and frightening. No longer did she confine herself to his dreams. He would see her when fully awake, as she prowled across his moonlit room sharing her gruesome tales. At night, he would scream; during the day, his parents sought advice from doctors, therapists, and even clergy.

By the time Bruce reached puberty, Agnes was his frequent companion. Although her visits were still frightening, she had stopped her nightly show of horrors. Instead, she promised to become his lover and would ask him to do small favors to prove his devotion.

At first, these things were harmless — a bouquet of wildflowers placed on an old grave in the cemetery, a shot of his father’s whiskey left out on the porch for a passing spirit. Later, she began to ask him for terrible, unspeakable things. She asked him to decapitate the neighbor’s cat and to loosen the lug bolts on his sister’s car to disastrous result. If he refused, she would cajole and threaten until at last he acquiesced. Bruce was powerless to resist.

Despite the efforts of all the professionals involved in his case, Bruce was not saved by the multitude of medications prescribed by his doctors and researched by his frantic parents. Invariably, each drug would put Agnes’ visits on temporary hiatus, only for her to return, angrier than ever, a few weeks or months later.

Although the medications did not give Bruce any relief, he was able to find some respite by losing himself in tales of the macabre. He obsessively collected horror magazines, books, and movies, because he found these stories oddly comforting. Observing the suffering of others plagued by the unholy machinations of ghosts, spirits and monsters somehow made him feel less alone.

As he began to read stories of the spirit world, he soon learned there was only one creature immune to their effects. Vampires, he realized, were unaffected by ghostly movements and demands.

To escape Agnes’ grasp, Bruce knew he must one day become a vampire. His difficulty in executing this plan was that he needed to find one to help him complete his transformation. Much to his dismay, he discovered vampires were a rarer breed than his vast media collection would suggest. At almost 50 years old, despite decades of trying, he had yet to meet even one.

Connect with Alex

Amazon
Facebook
Goodreads 
Twitter 

Buy the Book

Amazon US
Amazon UK

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Brian to Books Blog Tour – Catharine Bramkamp 

Fast Facts:

Author: Catharine Bramkamp, Popular author/award winning poet/ podcaster/ champion of Newbie Writers everywhere.
Genre: YA/Time Travel/Sci Fi
Book Title(s): Future Girls from the Future Girls Series

BIO

Catharine Bramkamp, author. Photo by Deanne Fitzmaurice
Catharine Bramkamp, author.
Photo by Deanne Fitzmaurice

Catharine Bramkamp is the co-producer of Newbie Writers Podcast that focuses on newer writers and their concerns. She is a successful writing coach and author of a dozen books including the Real Estate pa Mysteries series, The Future Girls series (Eternal Press) and editor of the Redwood poetry collection, And the Beats Go On. She holds two degrees in English, and is an adjunct university professor.

A California native, she pides her time between the Wine Country and the Gold Country.

She and her husband have parented two boys past the age of self-destruction and into the age of annoying two word text missives.

 Accomplishments:

Writing Coach, Podcaster for the Newbie Writers Podcast, University Professor – critical writing. Board member for WNBA-SF, member of Redwood Writers.

Future Girls Blurb:

October 10, 2145: eighteen-year-old Charity Northquest’s whole future is ahead of her–and the future sucks.

October 11, 2145: she unexpectedly has a chance to fix it.

When her best friend is reported killed, but then re-appears the next day as an old woman, everything Charity has been taught is called into question. Even if she does not believe in time travel, she has little choice. So the ill-prepared Charity travels back to the mysterious and captivating 21st century where her single purpose of changing the future fades with the increasingly more urgent question of whether she can survive the past.

Book review:

By Betsy Fasbinder on February 15, 2015

Format: Kindle Edition

This book gets 5 stars from me because it’s everything it intends to be. It’s an interesting twist on the time-travel motif. The story lauds the influence and power of women and girls, but is also a cautionary tale against passivity and blind obedience to authority and the potentially dire effects of getting complacent and accepting what governments and the media say without question. This is a suspenseful story with a main character we can root for and villains that take a variety of forms. Lots of fun social and political themes (global environment, feminine power, corruption, sexualization of women, religion, media manipulation, , e.g.) addressed in creative ways without being overly dogmatic or preachy.

My very favorite thing about this book was that it didn’t disintegrate into a corny romance where they guy fixes everything for the helpless girl and she has to give up everything important for romance. The heroine is necessarily naive because of the sheltered experience of her life in the future, but she’s not a fool…and she learns and grows along the way. Guys are there as allies, partners, helpers, and sometimes villains, but they don’t upstage the heroine’s role.

The book is a stand-alone, but I can see the seeds for the series and will surely read those when they arrive on the scene. If Hollywood is looking for movie material, here it is. Katniss Everdeen, step aside. There’s a warrior of a different sort on the scene and she gets to use her smarts and her heart as her best weapons.

 Connect with Catharine

Buy now on Amazon 

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Stacy Lynn Mar

Fast Fact

Author: Stacy Lynn Mar
Genre:  Poetry
Book:

Mannequin Rivalry
Deeper Than Pink
Anonymous Confessions
Conversing in a Black Cadillac

Bio

Stacy Lynn Mar (1)Stacy Lynn Mar is a confessional poet and a life coach who emphasizes the concepts of positive psychology and writing as a basis for her therapeutic approach.    Some of her poetic idols include Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, Sharon Olds, Charles Bukowski, and Erica Jong.   Stacy lives a life rich in Buddhist philosophy, is a practicing Yogi, and dabbles in digital art when life permits.  She pides her time between family, home-schooling her daughter, and a rich intellectual life devout of arts, literature, the silver screen, ice cream, indie music, and vintage things.  She’s described herself as a psychology nerd and a professed bibliophile.

Author Accomplishments

Stacy has authored four collections of poetry and a collection of poetry-writing prompts.   She has had hundreds of poems widely published in over 50 small & independent press magazines, webzines, and journals.   She has been nominated numerous times for Best of the Web & the Pushcart Prize.

Stacy is Editor & Founder for the online women’s literary & development webzine Pink.Girl.Ink. Press. She also is masthead of a Gothic Romance Reviews, where she reviews novels and hosts author interviews of the genre.

Stacy graduated from Lindsey Wilson College with her BA in Counseling Studies, she earned her MA in Mental Health Counseling & her Addiction/Professional Counseling Certification from Capella University.   She also attended Ellis College for undergraduate studies in English Literature.

Blurb

Stacy Lynn Mar (2)Feminist, poet, teacher, and scholar…Stacy is as bold and witty as she ever was in this fourth installment. Yet again, she has masterfully orchestrated a confessional collection of poetry resurrected from the gritty observations of everyday life.

Her accounts of love, loss, suffering, and the beautiful agility of the human spirit have been well-crafted from front-seat observations and five a.m. coffee sessions.

Stacy has a remarkable sense for detail and a dramatic, unique skill for wrapping the ‘everyday’ into metaphorical sentiments. She masters this gift in the poem ‘Mountain Parkway’ as she remembers an old love and simultaneously pays homage to her homeland:

Excerpts

“The summer is passing

Like a long arm swaying

From the passenger seat

Of a car on a four-lane highway.

And I ride alongside you

Like a virtue, a wild nag

That grinds my eyesight

To the moon-ground recollections

Of dreams that buzzed in June

Now as splintered as rosewood

And littered of memories

That irk my nervous hands

Like a nose itch that won’t wipe away.”

What Readers Are Saying

“Her raw, metaphorical take on life and relationships reminds me of a younger, softer version of Sharon Olds.”

-Tammi Watts, Educator from Wisconsin

“Once she pulls you in, it’s impossible not to complete a poem. Her words read as sentimental, metaphorical eulogies to everyday life. I can’t read a book by Mar without pausing to pay thanks to even the experience of the mundane.”

-Jennifer, Blog Writer and educator of Culinary Arts, from New Jersey

“Remarkable would be a bland understatement. This young poet is as intelligent and creative as she is touching and heart-rending. She adores life, she embraces it’s scars…”

-Shelley Wright, Mixed Media artist from Brittish Columbia

“She is a woman warrior with a brilliant insight. How can you not appreciate that?”

-Felicia, Student and Writer, from Kentucky

“Her metaphors and symbolism are absolutely breath-taking! Pick this book up, you will not regret the words that await you from this Indie author!”

-Elizabeth Ward, Educator, from Canada

“This is real poetry. This is inpidualism in it’s raw aura. These words are life, themselves.”

-Erica, Student, Nigeria

BOOK EXCERPT

Only The Young Have Such Moments

The girl is leaning close to the boys face,

Is telling him why objects lost from

The soft hands of strangers

Are really heirlooms disguised as garbage.

She holds a matchbox toward his face,

Delicately, the cardboard glowing

Of acrylic paint and super-glued lace.

Tells him it’s a concubine for one lonely heart,

The slippery paper taped to the corner

Once held a doughnut which touched

The lips of a young boy’s first kiss.

She says she likes to paste and rearrange

otherwise insignificant pieces of people’s lives,

The smell of Japanese take-out

On the sixth Sabbath, fortunes unsnapped

From cookies and still smelling of sugar.

Says she is stealing memories,

Making those lost,  semi-witnessed moments

Immortal in their own rights.

He listens, one eye trained against the sky,

Sinking beneath the dark holes

The stars form in their broken constellations.

He is dreaming of their first kiss

And how she might savor it,

All the while she’s recalling the strange smile

Of John Lennon on the cover of a vintage record,

Wondering how she can illuminate

The vinyl in a decoupage-styled collage

without losing the infinite kiss of Yoko Ono.

Pizza Talk and English Beer

On the eve of a holiday

I cannot fully remember

I came to you

Like a drunkard on the mend,

Stiff in my winter boots,

The smell of front porch

on my hair.

I’m not sure what I expected

But you were two thumbs deep

In some foreign documentary

So we spread cold pizza

And Old English beer between us

And talked sleepy circles

Around mad prophets,

The historical poets of our time

And each syllable you spoke

Felt like the edge of another world

I could cross, except

The alcohol was stealing my thunder

So all I could manage

Was a 2am rant about

The binds this world born us into,

The unjust in our lack of choice,

The wondering eyeball of chance,

And the God in all our words;

How always Saturday night

Would find us waging wars

Against the invisible forces

Of our universe and how

Come Sunday morning

There’s always more questions

Than there are answers.

How, exhausted, we fall asleep

Across the bent in arms of each other,

Aging as we sleep

Like old dogs waiting to die.

The Piano Player

He said

Spring always reminded him

Of silk dresses,

rims of their sewn edges

Hugging the breeze

Like petals mending

Their strong, poetic skeletons

In the aftermath of winter.

We’d spy

The first flight of a butterfly

On a porch swing

In the country.

Tin trailer and a horizon

Of black-shingle roof

To shed us from the sun.

Two ice teas between us,

We’d talk of books,

The stiff voice of Yeats,

The sheets where Sexton slept,

And like a traveler mid-stop,

He’d bring his melodies to me.

I’d ride the baritone waves

Of his old love songs,

His tan skin and hand joints,

all open-throat and thrashing keys.

And when his fingers paused mid-play,

I’d pray he still had

Something left to say to me.

Vintage Runaway

Love was a church hymn

she couldn’t sing without choking.

Outgrowing the trees of her homelands’ hills,

The rooms that bore her grandmothers babies,

Mountain air becoming the spit spew

Of a stifled star shower beneath the lunar moon.

Then the bare, brown clapboarded rooms,

Bright of tiny square windows

Where she’d gaze like a prisoner

Across uncalculated miles of rolling green,

Strength of the dogwood set afire by the sun,

Weeping tendrils of the willows bowing forward,

Waving their bony, green fingers as if inviting

Her to walk along dust hollows, barefoot,

To drop her threadbare white dress

Into the ocean of a puddle alongside

This make-shift highway leading south.

To throw her head back,

Shake the wild curls of her hair,

The feet of each pale strand

Itching to dance between the fingers

Of so many strange boys.

Connect With Stacy

Facebookhttps://www.facebook.com/MaRandaStacie
Personal Blog http://warningthestars.blogspot.com/
Pink.Girl.Ink. Press http://pinkgirlink.blogspot.com/
Gothic Romance Reviews http://gothicromancereviews.blogspot.com/
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7626066.Stacy_Lynn_Mar

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – J.A.Carlson

Fast Fact

Author: J.A. Carlson
Genre: Crime Fiction
Books: Shrike

Bio

corvusI have aspired to be a writer since my grade school days. Shrike is my first novel. I live in North Carolina’s Triad. Originally I am from Connecticut – Southern Connecticut to be exact, where we put mud flaps on the BMWs.  I’m proud to be a Swedish American.  When I’m not thinking about writing, I like ice hockey and traveling. I’ve tried stand-up comedy too; however, no one thought I was as funny as I thought I was. A cat owns me; in fact, she has helped me pen three picture books featuring her and her friends and the compilation thereof has just been published. I have a few more novels in various states of inception; I hope Shrike’s success will give me the impetus to finish them.  Right now, writing is my avocation, not my vocation.  I’d love for that to change someday, as I was told by a teacher in high school that I have a natural talent for writing and that has stuck with me over all these years.

Interview with Carlson

1. Tell us a little about yourself. 

Carlson: I got started writing in grade school. I hated reality so I found writing as a way to make my own.

2. Is this your first book?

Carlson: Shrike is my first book made public. I wrote two others, but now they belong to the ages.

3. What genre do you enjoy writing the most and what is this book about?

Carlson: I don’t have a favorite genre as such. If I have a story to tell, I will tell it.  Shrike is the story of one young woman’s overcoming tremendous physical, emotional and logistical adversity to defeat evil incarnate.

4. What inspired you to write this book? 

Carlson: For years I wanted to write a story of someone who is just a regular person by day and a hero by night. With the help of the young lady to whom my book is dedicated, Shrike came to be.

5. How did you come up with the title of your book or series?

Carlson: I just like the name Shrike. It’d be great as a movie title.

6. Tell us a little bit about your cover art. Who designed it? Why did you go with that particular image/artwork?

Carlson: One of my Facebook friends offered to design it for me. I wanted a vision of my heroine rising from the flames.

7. If you could cast your characters in the Hollywood adaptation of your book, who would play your characters?

Carlson: I have been told Rooney Mara would be great as Taryn. I can see Gene Hackman as Bill Tatum, but he may be too old for it. Maybe Melissa Fumero from Brooklyn Nine-Nine for Miranda. Kate Burton (from Scandal) as Nancy Mounce.

8. When did you first consider yourself a writer?

Carlson: In a Composition class in high school, the teacher grading an assignment of mine told me I had a natural talent for writing. For someone who had been pretty meaningless previously, it was kind of a big moment.

9. Do you have any strange writing habits (like standing on your head or writing in the shower)?

Carlson: I love to drink and write. Often did a bottle of Jack Daniel’s sit next to me as I wrote Shrike.

10. Are you a plotter or do you write by the seat of your pants? 

Carlson: I always have a beginning and an end. Both are quite clear. Then, I have to plot a path between the two.

11. Is there a certain type of scene that’s harder for you to write than others?

Carlson: Writing a love/sex scene is a challenge for me. I task myself to write them without naming body parts. I think that is a true test of a writer.

12. What book do you wish you could have written?

Carlson: I’m throwing up in my mouth a little, but I wish I had written the 50 Shades trilogy. I’d be a trillionaire by now.

13. What is your biggest fear?

Carlson: Leaving this world as someone meaningless. I’m most of the way there now.

14. What do you want your tombstone to say?

Carlson: I would borrow from Dan Fogelberg – “Between the worlds of men and make believe I can be found.”

13. Where is one place you want to visit that you haven’t been before?

Carlson: Sweden – land where my fathers died.

20. What is your favorite song?

Carlson: Shilo by Neil Diamond. My life in a few minutes.

23. What is your favorite movie?

Carlson: Animal Crackers.

Connect with Carlson

Publisher’s Website
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Goodreads

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Mel Edwards

Fast Facts

Author: Mel Edwards
Genre: nonfiction
Books: The Bold Way

Official Site

Bio

Mel has a master’s degree in storytelling from East Tennessee State University. She is a defeater of depression, eLearning Pro, and (other than writing) she loves: bodybuilding, the arts, and nerdy stuff.

Blurb

Everyone, it seems, tells you to find your passion, but few talk about your truth — that part of yourself that is undeniably you. Have you ever heard what happens if you ignore your truth? This book attacks the reality of self-denial, and gives step by step actions to discover, honor, and live a life that yokes your best traits to create a happy life worth living on your terms, your way.

The companion workbook is available separately for those who want to dig deeper and start immediately.

Review

“I have had the opportunity to read and do the exercises suggested by Mel Edwards in her new book: The Bold Way. She uses a simple no nonsense approach to help you get out of the rut you are in and living the life of your dreams. I highly recommend this book and the companion workbook that goes with it” – Jocelyn Jones

Interview with Mel Edwards

Angela B. Chrysler: I want to take a moment to welcome Mel Edwards author of The Bold Way, The Bold Way Workbook and As Spirit Moves Me: Poems and Photographs of Everyday Life available on Amazon.

ABC Question: Thank you so much for speaking with me, Mel. Please take a moment to tell us about The Bold Way.

Mel Edwards: The Bold Way is about finding, claiming and living your truth. Your truth is who you essentially are. For example, from an early age I was a creative person. One of my first memories was of my mom asking me to sing her a song. Instead of just singing where I was, I found it necessary to move the hassock (ottoman) into the middle of our little living room floor, stand on top of it, stretch out my arms and belt a tune of nonsense sounds that were very operatic, in my opinion, at that age. That is what I thought singing was, and I honestly haven’t gotten far from that idea. For me, singing is performing. If I’m going to do it, I’m going to do it big.

ABC Question: How did you come up with the idea for your book?

Mel Edwards: There a hundreds of books out there about finding your passion, but I am passionate about many things: being kind to everyone, equality, empowerment, gardening and feeding yourself/family/community, learning all I can to create the life that I want and encouraging others to do the same. It is not a simple one word, one phrase answer for me, and, frankly, most people I speak with can’t put their passion into a word, phrase or box of any kind.

I want everyone to create joy by being who they’re best at being, as long as that causes no harm to themselves or others. Your best skills and greatest joys are part of your truth, and can be used in your passions, but they don’t have to be. For me, my truth is that I am a creative, curious person with an immense appreciation for beauty and excellence. I use all those things in my writing, teaching, art, gardening, and even watching others in action – from students to those I see in public. These things bring me incredible joy, and to foster that is to empower my own success and growth. Everyone deserves growth, successes, and excitement as they navigate their life journey. It is my hope The Bold Way will lead to such realizations for the readers.

ABC Question: What happens if you get so busy with your life that you don’t have time to work on your truth or passions? After all, most of us have bills to pay.

Mel Edwards: I’m glad you asked. In 2008 I had the opportunity to interview 75 creative women for a project I was completing called Shout: Kiss My Art!As I interviewed everyone I kept coming across this thread that when life got in the way, and they ignored their truth, bad things happened, almost as a warning or omen to take care of themselves. Those who ignored the warnings eventually had horrible things happen to them, including cancer, being told they’d never walk again, and multiple failed relationships from family and marriage to work.

In the end, I also ignored my truth to do a job that paid the bills, but had many shackles on my freedom of expression. People I loved and admired told me to keep at it because they loved my work, but I was miserable, and ended up clinically depressed. I wanted this book to come out immediately so people could hear the warnings and perhaps avoid the pitfalls that many of others experience when ignoring their truth.

ABC Question: Where can we find you and your book?

Mel Edwards: It is a Kindle book on Amazon, and the Spanish translation is coming out on my birthday, August 27th, with the German version coming out soon after that. The audio book is due out on Audible on my birthday as well. I picked that day because it was one I would remember.

ABC Question: What are your next steps?

Mel Edwards: The Bold Way was the first steps in getting people to realize how important being true to yourself really happens to be, but I also know stubborn folks, like myself, will say, “Sure, that might happen to others, but not to me!” just like I did. So, I’ve written Depression Smackdown, a book that spends half of it detailing my journey into depression and how I stopped my slide down the rabbit hole once I found myself in a position that I never dreamed I’ve be in. One day I woke up and said, “This is not me, my life or my path,” and went back to my truth.

That will be out on October 19th, on Evaluate Your Life Day.

ABC Question: I understand you have some special gifts for those who purchase The Bold Way?

Mel Edwards: Yes. If someone purchases The Bold Way on Amazon (or the audio book on Audible later in August) and joins my email list via my website www.MsMelEdwards.com during August or September (2015), they can send me proof of purchase to me via email at mel@MsMelEdwards.com and I will send The Bold Way Workbook and The Bold Way Playbook as free pdfs via email.

Also, if they review The Bold Way on Amazon, Goodreads, or Audible, and email me a link to that written review, I will also send my chapbook As Spirit Moves Me: Poems and Photographs of Everyday life for free.

In the end, one purchase, combined with joining my mailing list and writing a single review can give a reader not only the one purchased book but two more (The Bold Way Workbook and As Spirit Moves Me) as well the special bonus The Bold Way Playbook, not published anywhere else at this time.

I’m all about paying it forward.

ABC: Thank you again, so much for speaking with me.

Mel Edwards: Thank you, Angela, for your time and consideration. It is a pleasure to be part of your world and to speak to your readers.

If someone purchases The Bold Way on Amazon (or the audio book on Audible later in August) and joins my email list via my website www.MsMelEdwards.com during August or September (2015), they can send me proof of purchase to me via email at mel@MsMelEdwards.com and I will send The Bold Way Workbook and The Bold Way Playbook as free PDFs via email.

Also, if they review The Bold Way on Amazon, Goodreads, or Audible, and email me a link to that written review, I will also send my chapbook  As Spirit Moves Me: Poems and Photographs of Everyday life for free.

In the end, one purchase, combined with joining my mailing list and writing a single review can give a reader not only the one purchased book but two more (The Bold Way Workbook and As Spirit Moves Me) as well the special bonus The Bold Way Playbook, not published anywhere else at this time.

I’m all about paying it forward.

Connect with Mel

Official Site
Facebook
Pinterest

Buy the Book

Amazon

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – John W. Howell

Fast Facts

Photo by Tim Burdick
Photo by Tim Burdick

Author: John W. Howell
My genre(s): Fiction Thriller
My book title: My GRL from the John Cannon Trilogy

Official Website

Bio

John was born in Detroit Michigan but has lived on all coasts of the United States as well as Chicago and Indiana. John graduated with a Social Science degree from Michigan State University and after working for a large consumer products company he went back to school to obtain his MBA from Notre Dame. After twenty-five years in the consumer products industry, John then worked as a consultant and then finally in the telecommunications industry for fifteen years. John finally escaped organized commerce to pursue writing full-time.

John is married and lives by the Gulf of Mexico in South Texas with his wife Molly and loving rescue pets.

Author Accomplishments

Molly and John are active in Austin Boxer Rescue where the emphasis is on saving inpidual Boxer dogs from euthanasia in community shelters and finding suitable forever homes.

Blurb

John J. Cannon successful San Francisco lawyer takes a leave of absence from the firm and buys a boat he names My GRL. He is unaware that his newly-purchased boat had already been targeted by a terrorist group. John’s first inkling of a problem is when he wakes up in the hospital where he learns he was found unconscious next to the dead body of the woman who sold him the boat in the first place. John now stands between the terrorists and the success of their mission.

Book Blurb

5.0 out of 5 stars Exciting thriller and terrific fun January 25, 2014, Format: Paperback|Verified Purchase

My GRL is a terrific thriller – exciting, with an engaging and very likeable protagonist (who has a wonderful dry, self-deprecating humor that had me laughing out loud at times!), and full of twists and turns that keep you guessing and turning the pages to see what happens next. Throughout the action builds very well and is fast paced when needed and very believable. Every aspect is described so well you feel almost like you are watching a movie, and indeed I believe this would translate very well to that sort of medium and be very successful in that form too.

The story commences with a lawyer going on a sabbatical, buying a boat and starting to enjoy a new way of life. Little does he know what these innocent and worthy pursuits are about to bring into his life! I won’t give spoilers because a great deal of the pleasure of this book is having the story unfold, but suffice to say the hero finds himself with far more than he bargained for!

The author John W Howell has constructed his thriller very cleverly and created a truly pleasurable reading experience. I found myself suspecting just about everyone of something and being right only about half the time, which is probably in itself one of the marks of a very good thriller.

I do note there is a vague hint at the end of a possible sequel – if, so I say bring it on! I’d love to read the next stage of this story! But if that’s just wishful thinking on my part I certainly look forward to any other work from this engaging and talented thriller author.

Read the Excerpt

Gerry and I finish our beers at the Sandbar and make a move to cross the crowds toward the front door. Before the karaoke noise starts, we agree to go to another place for some pizza. She directs something to me which I can’t understand, so I hold my hand to my ear and try hard to hear her. She looks a little upset. I signal we should wait until we get outside to talk.

She nods and I take the lead, reach back, grab her hand, and act like a bulldozer while I separate the crowd as we pass through. It becomes harder since everyone has begun to pay attention to the drunken girl singing what sounds a little like a slurred Avril Lavigne song to the karaoke machine on the stage up front.

We make it to the door and go out into the humid night. I drop Gerry’s hand and notice there are two guys walking toward us. I tell her to stay close and figure the guys will eventually make way and go into the bar. I am about to ask her what she was trying to get me to understand in the bar when I feel a rush of air behind me and hear what sounds like someone thumping a watermelon. That was the last thing on my mind when the lights of the world go out.

Links

Buy the Book

Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon CAN
Amazon Author Page
Smashwords
Barnes & Noble
Apple iTunes
Kobo Books
Martin Sisters Publishing

Interview with John. W. Howell

Angela B. Chrysler: Tell us a little about yourself (How did you get started writing? What do you do when you are not writing?

John. W. Howell: I have always wanted to write and tried doing it while working full time. I found that neither the work nor the writing was quality output when done in the same time frame, so I waited until I retired to devote myself to wring full-time. I started writing as a kid and did it for the enjoyment. When I’m not writing, I usually spend time on the beach with our two Boxers.

ABC: Is this your first book? How many books have you written prior (If any?) List other titles if applicable

John. W. Howell: My first book which is titled Next Door is in manuscript form and works to hold the laundry room door open. I have not published it since during my first edit I realized just how bad it was. My GRL is my second book, and I have since written three more. Two are the final books in the John Cannon Trilogy, and the forth is a different story and being queried.

ABC: What genre do you enjoy writing the most and what is this book about?

John. W. Howell: I most enjoy Thriller Fiction since there is always the challenge of crafting a story that is not easy for the reader to guess the twists before they happen. My GRL is about an ordinary guy who gets caught up in a terrorist plot to blow up a symbol of America’s greatness. He is not a superhero so he must use his intellect and whatever is at hand in order to thwart the plot.

ABC: What inspired you to write this book?

John. W. Howell: My sister and I visited the Aircraft Carrier Lexington since our dad served on her as a naval aviator during WWII. I was standing on the massive flight deck, and it struck me that if anyone wanted to destroy this symbol of America’s military strength they could do so with no resistance. Later I developed a plan to destroy the Lexington and then a plan to prevent it. The story just flowed from there although in the book the Lexington is not the target.

ABC: How did you come up with the title of your book or series?

John. W. Howell: The title MyGRL came from the name John J. Cannon; the protagonist gave this boat. The boat played an integral part in the story, and the name reflects John’s affection for her. The second book is titled His Revenge, which leaves the reader guessing if John gets revenge on the terrorist boss or is it the other way around. The final book is titled Our Justice, which leads us to believe all ends well.

ABC: Tell us a little bit about your cover art. Who designed it? Why did you go with that particular image/artwork?

John. W. Howell: The cover was designed by Martin Sisters Publishing. The image symbolizes the final scene of the action, and although it appears calm, it is a view that John sees as he is slipping away.

ABC: If you could cast your characters in the Hollywood adaptation of your book, who would play your characters?

John. W. Howell:

John Cannon – Bradley Cooper
Ned Tranes – Sam Elliot
Jason Savard – Gerard Butler
Ralph Winter – Matthew McConaughey
Matt Jacobs – Christian Bale
Sarah Barsonne – Kate Beckinsale

Choices from the serious list

ABC: When did you consider yourself a writer?

John. W. Howell: The day I opened my first case of books I considered myself a writer. I have to say the day I got my first royalty check enhanced that view.

ABC: What does your writing process look like?

John. W. Howell: When I’m working on a novel I, set a daily word count goal. The count that is comfortable is 1000 words. My routine is to accomplish the goal first and then do other writing or jobs around the house. This gets me to about 90,000 words in three months. I use a laptop computer and operate from a limited outline of the story. The characters and story develop while I am writing although I have written the last three lines of the book before starting the first chapter as an ending spot.

ABC: What writing advice do you have for aspiring authors?

John. W. Howell: When I’m asked, I always tell aspiring authors not to show their work to others until it’s finished. The reason is too often I have seen writers showing pieces of a book to someone only to get discouraged when the someone has some critical comments. This leads to a self-confidence problem that might not be solvable. Once a work is finished there is plenty of time to show it around and get all the advice in the world. At least the advice won’t stop the book from getting written. Don’t stop writing for any reason is another piece of advice I like to give since procrastination is so much easier than the hard work of writing.

ABC: Do you read reviews? Do you respond to them good or bad? Do you have any advice on how to deal with the bad?

John. W. Howell: I always read reviews. I consider understanding what the reader thinks of my work is a part of my job. I hope everyone enjoys what I write but know that does not always happen. I don’t respond to reviews as I think the person wanted to leave the review without having to worry about the author making comments. I respect the reviewer’s privacy in this manner. My advice on dealing with bad reviews is simple. If the bad review is well thought out and has some merit, learn from it. If the review is nasty and obviously meant to deride the author, then it should be ignored. In no case should an author engage in any response.

ABC: What are your current projects?

John. W. Howell: My publisher has waived their first right of refusal rights on the sequel to My GRL,which is titled His Revenge. I am currently working to self-publish the work so I have the book out for a beta read and once done then it will be professionally edited I expect publication before the end of the third quarter. The final book in the series Our Justice is complete and waiting a beta read and professional edit. I think the publication of Our Justice will be in April of 2016. I also have a general fiction novel completed titled Circumstances of Childhood. It is the story of a successful athlete and business person who gets sideways with the SEC and Justice Department. He ultimately finds out his firm has been compromised by a thief and yet must stand trial as if he committed the crime. This book is currently in the query process and is being reviewed by an agent.

ABC: What do you do (when not writing) to support yourself?

John. W. Howell: As I mentioned, I am retired, and I have my pension and investments to keep me in the necessities. For support, I generally turn to a well-made margarita or an IPA since I very seldom am not writing.

ABC: Which of your books was the most fun to write and why?

John. W. Howell: Circumstances of Childhood was the most fun for me. I’m not sure if it is because I think I know more now than I did when I started the first or if I am less concerned about making mistakes. I do know that I wrote this book exactly as I wanted to write it. The characters were developed on my terms, and the story flowed more from the character development than story construction. The freedom I experience was such that I almost don’t really care if it ever gets published. Of course, it will but if not it was like taking a test drive in a Lamborghini. A real pleasure that not being able to afford the car will take away.

ABC: Here are some zanier and off-beat questions. What do you wear while you are writing?

John. W. Howell: Since I live on the Gulf of Mexico, I’m usually in a T-shirt and board shorts. I very seldom have shoes on my feet unless I need to go down to the beach. I also listen to music while I write and find IHeart radio to be a real pleasure since I don’t have to fool with playlists or CDs

ABC: Do you have a pet or pets?

John. W. Howell: We have two feral cats and two Boxer dogs. The cats were found fifteen years ago out in the wild and were brought into our house when they were four weeks old. They don’t know they are feral and are as kind as they can be. One Boxer was rescued from the streets of San Antonio, and the other is from a litter in Port Aransas Texas. All four get along as if they were raised together. My wife and I do realize we are outnumbered.

ABC: What is your favorite snack food?

John. W. Howell: I’m afraid I am addicted to potato chips. I just love them in almost any form. My favorites are Cape Cod, and I am embarrassed to say I visited the plant when I lived back east. I could hardly wait for the free bag they give you at the end of the tour. I like my chips plain but can go with French onion dip once and a while.

ABC: Who is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their work?

John. W. Howell:My favorite author is Kurt Vonnegut and what really strikes me is his ability to blend humor and a sense of history into every story. He was able to capture the headlines of the day and turn a piece of fiction that was amazingly plausible in its creation. I was particularly taken with Jailbird, which had the Watergate break-in as a backstory. The main character went from being in prison for getting caught with a bunch of Watergate-related evidence to heading up a worldwide company that owned everything. The story is well crafted and to me at least represents some of Kurt’s finest work.

ABC: What are you reading now?

John. W. Howell: I am reading a fantasy book by Charles Yallowitz titled The Family of the Tri Rune. It is the fourth book in the series and although I’m not a fantasy fan I am totally enjoying each of his books. He writes a very plausible story that is well thought out and detailed. After the fourth book, I’m beginning to realize the series has a sophisticated continuity about it, and I am feeling more comfortable with understanding some of the conventions that come with the Fantasy Genre.

Angela: We are pleased to have with us John J. Cannon the leading character in the John J. Cannon Trilogy. I hope you are comfortable John. I will be asking you a few questions and want to thank you for being here.

John: My pleasure Angela. After what I have been through being with you is like a vacation.

Angela: I’m sure we’ll hear more about that but go ahead and tell the audience about yourself.

John: I’m a litigation attorney working for a law firm in San Francisco. About six months ago I decided to take some time off, so I asked for a leave from the firm. Up to then I’ve been working straight for the last ten years and haven’t taken any time for myself. In fact, I was quite surprised at how much money I had in the bank, and so I convinced myself to spend some of it on a beautiful boat. You see I have always wanted to be a charter captain and figured now was the time.

Angela: Tell us where and when and were you born.

John: I was born in 1977 in a small town in Indiana. The town is named Nashville and is in the heart of the tourist area. My parents still live there.

Angela: How would you describe yourself?

John: I think I would describe myself as a normal perso0n. I am a bit driven though and from the time I left high school and until this year I have kept a pretty stiff pace. There was college, Law school, and then the firm.

Angela: Tell us about where you grew up.

John: My hometown is small and during the summer it is packed with tourists. It is a very quaint town, and people come from all around to shop in the stores and look at the wonderful scenery. I worked in a few of the stores while in high school and during the summer in college. My friends, I have known since kindergarten, and most still live in town. We used to do all the normal stuff. We played football and baseball and when old enough we would hang out at the Dairy Queen. When I went away to college, I pretty much lost contact with them. I had hoped to go to our ten-year reunion but was busy with a case

Angela: Tell everyone what it is you do when you’re not working on a law case?

John: Up to six months ago I really didn’t do anything but work on law cases. When I bought my boat which I named My GRL I had every intention of staying in the small fishing village where I took up temporary housing for a year to get my captains license. I really didn’t know if I was ever going back to the law.

Angela: Are you serious with anyone?

John: Yes I have a special person who I have found. Her name is Stephanie Savard and in addition to being a terrific partner she is a combat pilot in the Air Force

Angela: Tell us about your worst fear.

John: Right now my worst fear is that the leader of a group of terrorists by the name of Matt Jacobs will elude being brought to justice. If not incarcerated he will carry out his plan to exact revenge on America. He holds America accountable for the injustices perpetrated on Palestine by the Western World for the last five hundred years. He is a dangerous man and a billionaire to boot. I hope he is reading this interview since I have sworn to help the authorities bring him to justice.

Angela: Wow, John. I had no idea you were involved with such dangerous people. I hope that all will be resolved, and you will be able to go for that charter license.

John: Thank you again for having me and I share your hope for normalcy

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Chess Desalls

Fast Fact

Author: Chess Desalls
Genre: YA, fantasy, time travel
Books: Travel Glasses from The Call to Search Everywhen series

Official Site

Bio

I recently authored the first two installments of the YA time travel serial series, The Call to Search Everywhen. I’m a longtime reader of fantasy and sci-fi novels, particularly classics and young adult fiction. There’s nothing quite like a good fairy tale or fable. When I’m not writing I enjoy traveling, reading and trying to stay in tune on my flute.

Accomplishments

I work and write outside of my creative writing. My work has led to both academic and industry publications. I’m a contributing editor for my local writing club’s monthly newsletter. I also received a first place award for best short fiction from the California Writers Club, South Bay branch.

Blurb

Calla Winston’s mobile devices sit in a corner of her room, covered in dust. Weeks ago, she shared photos and laughs with her best online friend. Now, after having felt the sting of betrayal, she prefers being hidden and friendless. She equates privacy with security and technology with pain.

Then she meets Valcas, an otherworldly time traveler who traverses time and space with a pair of altered sunglasses. When an ethereal being knocks Calla to the ground near her family’s lakeside cottage, Valcas uses the Travel Glasses to help her escape. He offers his further protection in exchange for a promise. Intrigued by Valcas and the possibility of time travel, Calla accepts. That is until she learns that his search for her was no mere coincidence.

Calla sets off on her own, taking the Travel Glasses with her. Torn between searching for her estranged father and reuniting with the rest of her family, she tracks down the inventor of the Travel Glasses in hopes of discovering more about Valcas’ past and motivations. The Travel Glasses take Calla’s mistrust of technology to all new levels. But without them, she’ll never make it back home. With Valcas hot on her trail, Calla hopes to find what she’s looking for before he catches up.

The Call to Search Everywhen is a serial series of novel-length installments. Travel Glasses is YA fantasy filled with metafiction and other literary twistiness. It’s a thought-provoking narrative about trust, relationships, reality and illusion.

Review

“This book is really unique and unlike anything I’ve read” ~ Goodreads reviewer

“The sci-fi aspect of the novel was perfectly executed, everything was wonderfully explained and it felt real to me, it felt very possible, less fictitious. The TSTA, glasses, rules, bright light, nowheres and everything made sense to me. Best of it all, this is a theme I haven’t hear of. Its not a copy of any other sci-fi novel I have ever heard of, and trust me, I’ve heard of a lot.” ~ Goodreads/Amazon reviewer

“I also enjoyed the originality of the devices and means of time travel in this book.” ~ Goodreads/Amazon reviewer

“The story of the travel glasses is very original and inventive, props to the author for coming up with this story and keeping it believable.” ~ Goodreads reviewer

“Time travel, mystery, romance and plenty of adventure, this book captivated me with interesting characters and a plot that was unlike anything I had ever read before.” ~ Goodreads reviewer

“Its a really fun read, very unusual and with some novels like this I’ve a shedload of questions that never get answered, but here – each time I think ” I wonder why/how/who/what?” the answer comes, and not through that horrible device so often used of simply telling the reader the answers, but by Calla thinking her way through, using logic to find them, or by looking at what’s happening to her, or sometimes just asking questions of another traveller. That makes the story so much more realistic, more interesting than what often happens, where we just read pages of text giving the reader the answer.” ~ Amazon top reviewer

Excerpt

The fireplace glowed and crackled behind me as the light of the flames reflected off of Valcas’ lenses. I sipped tea while sitting cross-legged on a sleeping bag.

“Time travel is possible and has been in operation for a long time,” he began. “There are at least two known methods of travel. This,” he said as he removed his glasses and handed them to me. “Is my way.”

Valcas’ sunglasses did not look extraordinary. They were large enough to block light from the front and sides. Both the frames and lenses were of a similar black opaque material, light and smooth like plastic. The tops and sides of each rounded rectangular lens were shuttered. I turned the glasses in my hands, looking them over, expecting to see a power switch and control buttons. There weren’t any. Still holding the glasses in my hands, I looked up at Valcas—I was finally going to see his eyes. When I did, I froze.

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Joshua Blum

Fast Facts

Author: Joshua Blum
Genre: YA, NA, Fantasy
Books: The Thirteenth Hour from The Thirteenth Hour Series

Official Site

Bio

Willa modeling bookA child of the 80s, Joshua Blum, like many other people, remembers wishing he had Marty McFly’s hoverboard from “Back to the Future 2” to ride to and from school. For awhile, he wanted to be an American Indian hunter and spent many a misspent day making bows and arrows out of tree branches, ultimately leading to a love of archery which continues to this day. After entering that penal colony known as middle school, he decided that he ought to learn to defend himself, leading to the wide world of martial arts and lots and lots of push-ups, both of which he enjoys to this day.

All of these elements were inspirations for aspects of “The Thirteenth Hour,” which he wrote after finishing high school and edited little by little until the present day – in effect growing up with the characters. During this time, he was educated at Princeton and Penn State Universities. In total, he estimates having spent 23 years of his life in school (give or take). Despite that rap sheet, he still enjoys learning new things. He credits his mother for instilling in him a love of literature, music, and yard sales. He credits his father for teaching him to do, you know, manly things, like hit a baseball, ride a bike without falling over, and most importantly, never give up on the important things in life. He credits his younger brother for helping him stay young at heart.

He currently enjoys spending time with his wife and daughter. Although not surprising given the decade in which he grew up, he still enjoys breakdancing, though he will admit the bruises take longer to go away now that he can no longer consider himself a young adult. He hopes to forever avoid corporate middle management and is currently at work on a graphic novel for adolescents as well as a sequel to “The Thirteenth Hour.” He hopes it does not take sixteen years to finish.

Accomplishments

Finishing this book!

Blurb

BookCoverPreviewDo you remember those 1980s fantasy movies with the big hair and electronic synthesizer soundtracks – movies like The Neverending StoryLadyhawke, and Labyrinth?  If you can imagine those films in illustrated book form, you have some idea whatThe Thirteenth Hour is like.

It’s essentially a fairy tale aimed at adults, chronicling the adventures of a young man named Logan who grows up in an orphanage with his best friend, Aurora.  When Logan is eighteen, he’s drafted into the Imperial Army, where he is ultimately picked for a mysterious mission to find the elixir of eternal life for a petulant, immature, and thoroughly narcissistic ruler.  On the way, he is unexpectedly reunited with Aurora, and both characters have to reconcile adulthood with who they were as children.

One could classify the story as adventure or fantasy, though not a serious JRR Tolkien-style fantasy.  The book doesn’t take itself too seriously, though there are plenty of introspective, psychological parts where the characters grapple with balancing that difficult no-man’s land of feeling older than an adolescent but too young to classify oneself as an adult.

In some ways, the book grew up with me, since I wrote a very early draft of the book the summer after I finished high school.  I’d drawn from some of my favorite novels and (mostlty 80s) sci-fi and fantasy films as inspiration for the narrative and illustrated a number of black & white and color pictures to add visuals.  Although I’d written the story because it was the sort of thing I’d always wanted to read but never found, I never really intended to publish it.

So life went on – going to many years of school, working to pay the rent, getting married, changing diapers, etc.  But the story wouldn’t let me go, and I kept working on it, little by little, over the next sixteen years, reworking and editing the story and characters until I felt like they, too, had grown up.

If you’re interested, there are two short stories that serve as bookends to the novel that are available free on Smashwords that may serve to whet your appetite, available here:

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/writejoshuablum

Review

The Thirteenth Hour by Joshua Blum is one terrific book! This science fantasy has a detailed, creative, fast-paced adventure with a quest for immortality and well-considered musings on life. The tongue-in-cheek humor is just wonderful. Darien IV is a king mortally afraid of dying. His father was “the king of all things stingy, prejudiced, and cruel…and he lived long enough to instill some of these fine characteristics in his son.” The clever illustrations capture the essence of the story and add to the value of this book.

Logan is an orphan who joins the army when he’s 18. The social commentary is perfect. “I don’t think I was ever quite able to reconcile how a city full of people and possibilities could leave me feeling so grimy, dejected, and alone at the end of the day.” He’s inept and a misfit, younger than the other soldiers in his group, which made me root for him to succeed. Finally he begins to find his place. “I began to dance with the wind, sword in hand. I leaped and turned, kicked and swung, lunged and dove. The wind was my partner, and I was following her lead.” Aurora, another orphan, is his best friend. The quest is filled with deadly dangers and magical beings; the ending is as satisfying as a good dream remembered. Definitely worth reading, for all ages.” (from Amazon.com)

Book Excerpt:

In this section, the main character, Logan, has become lost in the King’s castle and finds himself in the women’s quarters by accident.  The society he now lives in is very conservative in terms of gender relations, and there are stiff penalties for breaches in conduct.  But nothing ventured, nothing gained, and it’s during this adventure that Logan finds something of a fabled treasure …

…I had to find a way out fast before one of the female guards found me and had me castrated or something.  Naturally, at that very moment, I heard footsteps.

So, I did what anyone would probably do when faced with such dire straits.  I panicked.  I started running around, trying to open all the doors.  They were all locked except for one, a janitor’s closet. I ran inside, closed the door, and waited for the guard to pass.  When the footsteps abated, I breathed again and turned the knob of the door.  It wouldn’t budge.  Great.  I tried it again.  And again and again and again.  Somehow, I had picked the one janitorial closet in probably the whole castle that locked.  It was pretty dark inside, and of course I didn’t have any matches to see if there was a latch or lever that could spring the door.  I felt my way around the doorframe.  Nothing.  I sank to the floor to think.  And then I saw it, and it all came rushing back. 

* * * * * * * *

 In order to understand what I was thinking, I must first digress.  There was a running rumor among all soldiers in training about a stash of treasure hidden somewhere in the castle.  Not the King’s treasure vault; no, this was different.  This treasure vault contained all the things that we soldiers wanted but couldn’t afford, since no one was paid until after all training had been completed.  Nobody was entirely sure what was in there, but there were plenty of speculations: gold coins and jewels, alcohol, tobacco, and dirty magazines, exotic weapons, fine clothes, and fancy preserved foods … the possibilities were endless.  

There was even a whole legend that had been built up around the rumor.  No one knew how much was true, but according to the story, long ago, when times were stricter, the King would send his soldiers out across his realm to make sure no one was selling or harboring any illegal substances.  If they found any, they were to confiscate them immediately and bring them back to the castle for inspection.  What constituted an “illegal substance” was a hotly contested point whenever the legend was told, but as the story goes, a few bored recruits decided to turn pirate, hijack the convoy carrying these contraband materials when it returned back to the castle, and then disseminate the goods among the rest of the soldiers.  Thus, they had the support of all the troops, who went out of their way to make sure the ringleaders had every spare moment free to plan the attack, their method of transporting the goods, and where they would hide everything.  On the night the convoy returned, they attacked.  The convoy guards were caught completely by surprise, and everything went as planned.  The stash was hidden, the location known only among the enlisted men, who had to swear upon the penalty of death to keep the location a secret.  

The raid had been so successful, in fact, that the next time the convoy returned, the recruits tried again.  They almost got away with it, but their luck ran out as they were carrying the last bit of contraband to their hide–out.  They were caught, a fight broke out, and one of the recruits was killed.  His name – Ian McCroff.  And ever since then, the stash was known as McCroff’s treasure.  No one involved would talk, and eventually, the matter was forgotten.  Over time, even the secret of the treasure’s location was forgotten.  But the story lived on, passed from one generation of soldier to another, all the way down to me.             

I was as curious as anyone else, but the whole thing had always sounded like a crock to me, something somebody had made up and spread around to see how far it would get, just to pass the time.  It was a nice idea – hidden treasure always was – and it put some mystery and hope back into our lives.  In that sense, it was a good thing.  But like a lot of other folks, I found it hard to take seriously.

Up until that moment, that is.  When I’d shut the door to the closet, another door to my back had popped open.  You had to squat down to see it, and when I sat down on the floor of the closet to think, it caught my eye.  By then, my eyes had adjusted to the dark, and I found that I was staring into a passageway.  A faint glimmer of light emerged from its depths, allowing me to just make out a little plaque someone had mounted on the inside of the doorframe.  “MCCROFF – WE REMEMBER,” it read.

Could it be?  I crawled in the direction of the light.  I eventually came to a fork in the path and chose the one that seemed brighter.  It was getting really hot in there, and though I couldn’t see too well, I felt all grimy, like I was covered in dust and dirt.  But I kept crawling, and finally, the air seemed to get cooler.  I found myself looking down into a large storeroom.  The faint glimmer of light I’d seen all the way at the other end of the tunnel was due to a small window near the ceiling that let in some light from outside.  It didn’t exactly make it bright inside, but I could make out stacks of boxes.  I lowered myself down from the tunnel opening onto a few of the boxes and stepped onto the cool floor of the storeroom.

I pushed the lid off one of the wooden boxes.  Inside, packed in hay, were several dark bottles.  I opened one up and sniffed it.  Wine.  I popped the lid on the next box.  More wine.  Then I peered around the room.  The boxes, some of which had blankets thrown over them, seemed to be grouped into piles.  Perhaps some kind of organizational system?  I ran to the pile across from me.  Those boxes were filled with little vials that contained powders that seemed like spices.  The next was forks and knives.  Was this just a storeroom for the castle kitchen?  My heart sank a little at the thought, but I ran to the next pile of boxes and was trying to pry the lid off when I heard the sound of a match striking.  The sound of hard heels against the stone floor reverberated off the walls.  I froze.

“Freeze!  You’ve seen enough,” came a female voice.  My heart sank even lower.

The guard carried a lantern and a spear.  She hung the lantern from a hook in the wall and walked towards me, spearpoint first.

“Where did you come from?” I asked forlornly.

“That’s none of your concern.  How long have you known about this?”

“About five minutes,” I said.

She studied me over.  “You used the closet entrance, didn’t you?”

“I … I guess,” I said.

“Yeah.  You’re filthy.  Alright, enough gaping.  Get down from there.”

In trying to avoid the spear she had poked in my side, I sidestepped and slipped on a dusty blanket.  Flailing my arms to regain balance, I fell right on top of the next pile of boxes.  The boxes and I hit the floor with a crash.  I landed on my side, but something soft kind of eased my fall.

“You clumsy idiot!  Look what you’ve done!” the guard shouted.

I was going to say something when I realized what I was lying on top of.  A pretty woman’s picture stared right back at me. And another and another.  A broken box lay near my head, and from it spilled volumes and volumes of old, yellowed magazines.

“Whoa,” I think I said, as my virgin eyes, suddenly less so, stared in a mixture of confusion, curiosity, revulsion, and admiration at my latest find.  Maybe this really was McCroff’s treasure after all …

“Hey!  Quit stalling!  Get up!” yelled the guard.  She walked over with a lantern and peered down at me.  She gasped.

“Hey!  Gimme those!  They’re mine!” she yelled and kicked me off the pile of magazines.  She carefully picked them up, one by one uncreasing bent pages, and stacked them neatly back into the somewhat injured box.  “Nosy good–for–nothing–grumble–grumble–grumble …” was all she said as she worked.  I couldn’t help but shake my head in amused bewilderment.

“Umm … sorry I busted the box,” I said.  “All those are yours?”

The guard glared at me, then in a flash, drew her dagger and grabbed me by the throat.

“You tell one person what you found here today, and I will personally hunt you down, cut your balls off, and toss them in the moat.  Do you understand?”

“Gurrghhh …”

She loosened her grip a little.

I panted for air.  “Alright, I won’t tell anyone about your dirty magazines, okay?”

“No, no, I mean this whole place!”

“You mean … this really is McCroff’s treasure?”

“Yes, you idiot!  Didn’t you see the sign?  Or can’t you read?”

“Well, yeah, I saw the sign … but all I found was some wine and some cooking stuff.  Well, and that your porn collection … how come you keep it locked in here?  Kind of inconvenient to get to, isn’t it?” I couldn’t help blurting out.

Her grip tightened again.

“Okay, okay, I promise not to tell.”

She let go and eventually succeeded in clamping my hands behind my back with heavy chains despite my struggling. 

“Jeeze, take it easy.  How come you get all this stuff, and no one else does?  In the story, this junk was for everyone!” I protested as she led me out at spearpoint.

“Don’t believe everything you hear, kid.  Like you said, that was just a story.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.  Or rather, you won’t.”

A sack was tossed over my head, and all the guard could hear were my muffled protests.  I kept stumbling ahead blindly, lead only by the point of the guard’s spear and her gruff commands.  At one point it became light, and we kept walking awhile before I was ordered to stop.  I felt myself being pushed down and stumbled onto a pile of hay.  The sack was removed from my head.

“Open your eyes.  I have too much to lose by killing you,” said the guard.  “An investigation is the last thing we need right now.  But I need to be sure you’re not going to talk.  That ‘treasure,’ as you put it, is the only thing worth keeping in this castle, as far as we’re concerned, and its secret stays with us.  It’s been safe for hundreds of years – as long as we’ve been around, and it’s going to stay that way.  That entrance you found – it won’t be there tomorrow.  The one I led you out of – that won’t, either.  As far as you’re concerned, it won’t exist.  Gone, vanished,” she said, with a snap of her fingers.  She paused.  “So, what did you really see?  The truth this time.”

I looked around.  We were standing in the royal stables, near the back.  I could see daylight ahead.  I could make a run for it.  I looked at the guard.  She’d whipped out the dagger again and was flipping it around in her hand. 

The dagger was at my side in an instant.  “Just because I said I wouldn’t kill you doesn’t mean I can’t make the next few minutes very, very uncomfortable.  Are we clear?”  The dagger moved down and hovered at my groin.

Oh, boy.  What a day.  “I told you already.  Just the kitchen stuff.  The magazines.  Honest.  That’s all I got to see.”

The guard paused and considered this for a moment.  Then she straightened up, taking the dagger with her.  

“Oh.  Well, then it’s nothing to you.  Just another overblown rumor.  You know what the penalty is for being caught in female quarters?”

I nodded.

“Say anything about any of this, and you get that and worse.  Now look up at the watch tower.  Wait till the guard isn’t looking, then hightail it to the wall.  She can’t see you there.  Then go back to your camp.  If all goes well, no problems for either of us.  I don’t wanna explain this to my commanding officer.  Or it won’t be just your body parts in the moat.  Now go on, run, get out of here!” 

* * * * * * * *

 That night, after dinner, I was walking back to the barracks when a hand reached out from the shadows and yanked me into an alley.

The now familiar face of the female guard that had caught me that morning greeted me.

Oh, boy.  Not her again.

“I didn’t say …”

She pressed a strong, gloved hand over my mouth.  I looked up into the shadowy face of the guard, which spoke of tension and worry.

“Don’t worry, kid.  Your nuts are safe.  But it’s trouble.  On my end.  Someone overheard us in the stables.  One of us.  Word got around.”  The guard sighed.  “Let’s just say that things within the female guard aren’t as rosy as I made them out to be.”  She uncovered her hand and let me go.

“What does this …”

“Have to do with you?  Simple.  The word’s out now that you were seen in the female quarters.  Nothing official.  Just a rumor.  Figured I’d let you know.”

I sighed.  “I guess it’s just been one of those days.  Hey, what’s so bad about being caught in the female quarters anyway?”

“Ah, you’re not from around here, kid, you wouldn’t understand.”

“You know, where I grew up, boys and girls lived together in the same room for years, and it was never any big deal,” I said, shaking my head.

“Really?  I didn’t know there were places in the world like that.  Never would have guessed!   Good for you.  All men could take a lesson from you.”

“Well … I doubt that very much.”

“Ahh, modesty.”

“No … it’s not that,” I said.  “I mean, there were always plenty of girls around when I was growing up.  And sure, there were plenty of people fooling around, but … I never really did.”

The guard laughed at first, then did a double take.  “Wait, you’re joking, right?”

“No.”

“Why?”

I shrugged.

“Maybe you prefer men?”

“No, I like women.”

“So, you mean you never had a sweetheart?”

“No.”

“Didn’t you ever want one?”

“Sometimes.”

“Then why didn’t you get one?”

I thought about it awhile then shrugged again.  “I dunno.”  When she continued staring at me, I blurted out, “I was busy with … other things, I guess.”  

“Geeze, kid.”  The guard stared at me curiously then said, “Well, at least you’re honest about it.  Most men think they know more about women than they really do and end up looking like jackasses.”

“Yeah.  Well, thanks for the compliment,” I said, not without bitterness.

“Ha!  You’re still pretty pathetic, but hey, you’re just a kid.”

I shrugged.

“But seriously, what a shame,” she said.  She actually sounded like she felt sorry for me, which was probably the last thing I needed.  “All those opportunities you might’ve had when you were growing up – all gone, never to be had again.  And goodness knows you won’t learn much in this dump.  Aren’t you at all curious?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I guess.  But why are we talking about this?”

“Hey, it’s none of my business, but I’m just looking out for you, kid.  What would your mama say if she knew you were out here all alone with no one to look after you?”

“My mama’s dead … but … thanks, I guess, maybe she would’ve appreciated it.”

The guard’s face softened a little, and she said, “I’m sorry, kid.  Well, your dad then.”

“No, I’m an orphan.”

“Geeze, kid, you’re full of great news.  Don’t you have anyone?”

“Well … I have this one friend.  Far away.”

“Do you pray?”

“No.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to start.  Though I can’t say I blame you.  You got dealt a lousy hand.”

“Are you religious?”  

She snorted.  “Me?  Are you kidding?  Gave that up a long time ago.  But still … at one time, it was … nice to have something to believe in.  Anyway, the world’s a strange place.  You grow up with girls, and that’s not what you think about.   Here, men and women live separately all their single lives, but that’s all they can think about, know what I mean?  You’ll see.  Things are different here.  You may have it tough for a few days.”

“Maybe it’ll just blow over.”

“Well, hopefully it will.  You know, I was watching you.  You didn’t talk.  To be honest, I was surprised.  Is it just today?  You didn’t seem to talk much to anybody.”

I shrugged.  “They’re older.  I dunno what to talk to them about.”

“Well … we all gotta have a few friends.  It’s tough to go through life all by yourself.  That’s all I’m saying.  Anyway, I gotta go.  Sorry, kid.  I never meant for all this to happen.  Just thought it would be a stand–up thing to do if told you first.”

“Thanks.  I appreciate the risk you’re taking.”

“Forget it.  Here, I brought something for you.  For not talking.   Entertainment for most soldiers, but, in your case, I’d lean more towards education.”  The guard held out something for me to take.

I laughed when I looked at what it was.  It was one of her prized adult magazines from the treasure trove.

“But it’s one of your magazines,” I said, laughing.

“No big deal.  I’ve got doubles of this issue.  Besides, what are you, eighteen, nineteen?  If I knew then what I knew now … believe me, if your folks were alive, they’d thank me.  All I’m saying is that you need to get with the program.  You’re not exactly in a profession that comes with a pension, you know?   You’ll be lucky if you make it to thirty.  You gotta get out there.  In a way, you guys have it lucky.  We become women whether we’re ready for it or not.  But you guys … well, it’s never too late to learn to become a man, you know?”

I nodded even though I didn’t really understand.

“And while you’re at it, sow your oats.  You might not be around to do it tomorrow.”

“What, have kids, you mean?”

“Why not, I got three, how many you got?”

“Well, none, I …”

“Hey, you gotta grow up some time, kid.  Might as well start today.  Just take the magazine.  Read it, look at the pictures.  The drawings in that one aren’t the best, but maybe you’ll get some ideas.  Hey, it worked for me.  Anyway, I gotta scram and get the kids in bed.  Later.”

Then she winked at me, and just like that, she was gone, leaving me standing alone in that dark alley.  I stood there in shock for a minute before realizing that the magazine was still cradled in my trembling hands.  I looked down at the cover.  For a moment, society’s voice chirped in, and I felt like throwing it out.  But curiosity got the better of me.  What did “society” (whatever that was) know anyway?  The hell with them.  This was part of McCroff’s treasure, and how many soldiers could lay claim to even a little part of that?  Besides, it was probably more educational than anything else around here.  I stuffed my hard–earned treasure in my pocket and walked out of the alley.

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Brain to Books Blog Tour – Megan O’Russell

Fast Fact

Author: Megan O’Russell
Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
Books: The Tethering from The Tethering Series

Official Site

Bio

Megan O'RussellMegan is the author of The Tethering Series, books one and two of which are currently available from Silence in the Library Publishing. Her debut romance novel Nuttycracker Sweet will be released by Fiery Seas Publishing this holiday season. Megan is also a contributing author in the Athena’s Daughters 2 anthology and the creator of the blog Life Beyond Exaggeration. When not working on her next story, Megan can often be found on stage, epic road trips with her husband, or playing her ukulele.

Accomplishments

Created a Spotlight Saturday program that runs on my author Facebook page once a week featuring indie books. https://www.facebook.com/ORussellauthor


Blurb

The TetheringAll sixteen-year-old Jacob Evans wants is to win the heart of Emilia Gray, but with order in the magical world crumbling, war threatening, and Emilia’s boyfriend living across the hall, he may never have the chance.

Jacob Evans loses everything he has ever known and is tossed into a world of magic. The Dragons, a group of rebel wizards, are threatening to expose the existence of magic to humans. Jacob is determined to find a way to fit into Emilia’s family, but as his powers grow, so does the danger. With the death toll mounting, Jacob is accused of acts of rebel terrorism and must fight to stay in a world he’s only just beginning to discover.

When Emilia’s life is threatened, Jacob must risk everything to save her. Does he have the power to rescue her in time? And what could their survival cost?

Review

From Lydia Aswolf

Jacob is nine. He’s often hungry, and sometimes cold.

He never knows if his father will return.

We meet Jacob as he’s clutching half a peanut butter sandwich and angling away from the other kids during lunch at school. He doesn’t want them to see his poverty. Jacob despises their judging eyes, but fear eats at him. The fear of being taken away. Of never seeing his father again.

Only one thing makes that day different from any other. The new girl. Her name is Emilia, and when she asks if she can join him for lunch, Jacob gladly agrees. He doesn’t envy Emilia her overstuffed lunch bag, though it contains more food than Jacob sees in a week. Gladly, she shares with him; making it clear that there is no way in the world she can eat it all.

There is something immensely satisfying in seeing a lonely, neglected child fed over the course of two years. For Jacob is fed not just in body, but in mind and soul by his friendship with Emilia and her family. We know from the beginning that what he shares with Emilia isn’t mere friendship. While theirs is the pure, innocent love of children, it promises to blossom into something deeper as they grow older.

Jacob isn’t just different in suffering heartbreaking poverty and being mature well past his years on account of it. He has magical ability. The day he inadvertently heals Emily is the last day he sees her.

For five long years, Jacob copes. He makes money of his own, managing to feed himself and pay the bills. His father is still missing in action most of the time, but Jacob is used to that. Only Emilia’s absence tortures him. That ceases to be a consideration on the day he’s called to the principal’s office and told his father is dead.

Every window in the school explodes. And after five long years, Emilia appears again. Just when Jacob didn’t feel his life couldn’t shatter any further, she informs him of his magical ability. With it come dire implications. Checks and balances apply in the magical world, too.

Unintentionally or not, the magical ability Jacob launched on the school could be construed as an act of magical terrorism. Thanks to the Dragons, a dangerous group of rebel wizards, such acts are becoming distressingly common. Soon, a trial is scheduled to determine Jacob’s guilt or innocence. Before it starts, Jacob gets a taste of a world he badly wants to belong to.

I didn’t want Jacob to go to trial. I wanted him to explore the magic he’d just discovered, pursue the connection he had with Emilia, and form friendships with his peers for the first time in his life. But O’Russell wisely didn’t grant my wish. It is our longing for a great outcome that propels our eyes forward in any given book, and this gifted author parcels out Jacob’s victories and defeats with a stingy hand. O’Russell kept me satisfied, yet always longing for more.

When the Dragons put Emilia’s life in danger, Jacob goes after her. Love compels him, but justice plays its part, too. Emilia rescued Jacob, once upon a time. Jacob owes her. If he must pay with his life to save hers, then that’s exactly what Jacob is prepared to do. It is here, that readers will stumble upon a thrilling twist – several of them, in fact. Twists that left me happy to have inhaled The Tethering in a single night. Twists that led me to eagerly anticipate the next installment in this planned series by this tremendously talented author.

Excerpt

“Jacob. You are special. Different, like me. You have abilities that you don’t understand, but when you’re upset—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Magic, Jacob. Wizardry, sorcery, maleficium, whatever you want to call it. I’m a witch, you’re a wizard, and we need to get out of here,” she said, her tone becoming more urgent.

Jacob stared at her. He ran his hand over Emilia’s cheek.

She grabbed his hand with hers. “Jacob, I’m real. And this is real. There is a whole world out there. A magical world. But you have to decide right now if you want to be a part of it. There are things in my world that are beyond your imagination, but if you come with me, you can never go back to being normal. You can never come back here.”

“Emi.” Jacob shook his head. “This is crazy. What are you talking about?”

She brought his hand between them. It was covered in small cuts from shards of McManis’s mug. His hand started to feel warm in her grasp. Not unpleasantly so, but as though it were submerged in warm water. Then his skin started to tingle and sting. The places where the skin had been broken began to look almost iridescent. Finally, the glow subsided and the cuts started to fade. After only a few seconds, his hand was completely healed.

“It is real, Jacob.” Emilia stared into Jacob’s eyes. “Will you come with me?”

Jacob couldn’t think beyond Emilia’s return. She was really back. He was tired, and his brain felt fuzzy. His school was wrecked. His father was dead.

He wanted to be angry with Emilia. He wanted to shake her for making him even more confused, to yell at her for disappearing for four years, for clearly leaving out some very important details in the course of their friendship. He didn’t understand what was happening. He held Emilia’s delicate hands in his. He would do anything to keep her from disappearing again. He would follow Emilia Gray to the ends of the earth.

“Do I need to pack anything?” he asked.

“Only if you want to.” Emilia looked him hard in the eyes. “Jacob, are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

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