Saturday, October 26, 2013

Birth of an Assassin by Rik Stone @stone_rik

Birth of an Assassin

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

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Genre - Thriller, Crime, Suspense

Rating – R

More details about the author

Connect with Rik Stone on Facebook & Twitter

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

Friday, October 25, 2013

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

CHAPTER ONE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mel!” I shout. “Open up!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go to hell!”

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

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

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

* * *

Photo Traveler

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Genre - Young Adult Science Fiction

Rating – PG

More details about the author and the book

Connect with Arthur J. Gonzalez on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.arthurjgonzalez.com/

Thursday, October 24, 2013

#Free–Penalty Clause by Lori Ryan @loriryanauthor

Penalty Clause by Lori Ryan

Amazon Kindle US

Genre – Romantic Suspense

Rating – R

4.5 (42 reviews)

Free until 24 October 2013

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

Chris Myers – Dos and don’ts of critique groups @CMyersFiction

Dos and don’ts of critique groups

 

1. Always start with the positive.

2. Always end on a positive note.

3. Do be honest but tactful.

4. Ensure you are using proper English. The Chicago Manual of Style is an excellent reference book used by professional editors.

5. Ensure your work is fairly clean grammar-wise before submitting.

6. Focus on craft for a critique.

a. Goal/Motivation/Conflict.
b. Ensure each scene advances the plot.
c. Character arc.
d. Escalating plot.

7. Don’t nitpick. Make your point and move on.

8. Offer to brainstorm with your critique partners.

9. Don’t stay in a group that is overly critical. Writing is subjective.

10. Do look for other critiquers who take their craft seriously and are trying to get published.

 

Date with the Dead

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

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

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

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Genre - YA Paranormal Mystery, Romance

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author and the book

Connect with Chris Myers on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.chrismyersfiction.com

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

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

image

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

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

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

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

Genre - Science fiction

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author

Connect with Scott Cramer on Facebook & Twitter

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

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

Author Interview – Mark LaFlamme

If you could leave your readers with one bit of wisdom, what would you want it to be? It is almost never the letter E. If you think about that long enough, the wisdom will reveal itself.

When you wish to end your career, stop writing, and look back on your life, what thoughts would you like to have? I’d like to look back with the contentment of having tried everything at least once. Most things, anyway. I don’t want to have many instances where I think “I wish I’d done this” or “I should have tried that.” I’m aware of that goal now, so when I have the opportunity to do something that would be easy to decline, I tend to jump on board just so I can say I’ve done it. From the author’s perspective, I want to look back on a huge volume of work. I mean, I want to have written books that I’ve forgotten entirely. They won’t all be great, of course, but I hope a few of them are, even if it’s just one or two. I’d like to write something that will withstand time and short memories. I want to leave my mark, I suppose. Since I probably won’t be the first guy to step foot on Mars, I’ll have to write some really great books.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp? I really just want my readers to have fun; to have a ball, in fact. That’s what I always want. But larger messages do tend to reveal themselves. In the case of “Guys Named Jack” the message is probably that there are many, many things about the world and about the human brain that we don’t understand. Some of it is good, some of it is very bad. The Jacks will discover some of those things – the dark parts of humanity which they were called together to fight. But mostly it’s meant to be entertaining. When all is said and done, I always enjoy hearing from the readers themselves what they took out of it. As long as they use words like “couldn’t put it down” and “more fun than bubble wrap” while they’re telling me.

How much of the book is realistic? Quite a lot. The Jacks in “Guys Named Jack” develop their special skills for a reason. I don’t want to give much away about that, but the history of things like government experiments with mind control are very real. I researched a lot of that while writing my earlier novel, “Worumbo.” The things that have been attempted in the name of national security are rather frightening. Readers may think “all that background is surely fiction” but it’s not. The more you read about government groups like MKULTRA, the more jaw-dropping it becomes.

Have you included a lot of your life experiences, even friends, in the plot? Oh, sure. It’s hard not to. In “Guys Named Jack,” I’m writing a great deal about teenagers, how they act and how they relate to one another. I’m not a teenager anymore, but I remember what it was like to be one. Even the smart and responsible kids (I wasn’t one of those) were still teenagers at heart. They were apt to get up to no good when their friends were around. It was fun writing those scenes and remembering the hedonistic, uncertain times of my own youth. The characters in “Guys Named Jacks” are great kids, but you can never forget that they are also teenagers, and teenagers are a wily, rambunctious lot.

How important do you think villains are in a story? Very important. Without bad guys, how would you know who the good guys are? Without darkness, how do you come to appreciate the light? It’s all balance, good and bad, right and wrong, yin and yang. There are a lot of villains in “Guys Named Jack.” Some of them are right up in your face (Jack Gordon will take care of them, don’t worry your pretty head) and others are only glimpsed from the corners of the eye. Discovering who the real bad guys are in this novel may surprise and horrify you. There are also are different levels of bad when it comes to bad guys. Some you just despise from the get go. With others, you may discover redeeming qualities. In my novel “Vegetation,” the antagonist, Betram Luce, is a pretty vile human being, but by the end of it, you can’t help but to appreciate his tenacity. That poor dude goes through hell, but he stays on his feet. You’ve got to give credit where it’s due.

What are your goals as a writer? To entertain. To mesmerize. As trite as it sounds, I always want to create something in which a reader can lose him or herself for hours at a time. I want people to be so absorbed by what I’ve written that they forget about the bills, the grades, that unpleasant clunking sound the car has been making lately. I want to steal chunks of your life and keep you up at night. The biggest thrill for me is when a reader contacts me and says something to the effect of, “you weasel! You made me late for work because I was up reading until the dawn’s early light!” I used to suspect it was nothing more than lip service when I heard these kinds of answers from other authors. Now I know that it’s not.

Jack Carnegie has developed a head for numbers – a true savant who was just an average teenager a day before. Jack Deacon builds things, from self-propelled drones to goggles that can see through walls.

Jack Van Slyke awakes with an ability to speak a half dozen languages.Jack Gordon discovers he is a master of the martial arts, just when he needs it most.

All over the country, young men are finding that they have special skills, areas of expertise that appeared out of nowhere. They’re confused. Baffled. Maybe even dangerous.

And they’re all named Jack.

After experiencing adventures on their own, the Jacks will come together in the deserts of Arizona. There, they will set out on the quest to find out what has happened, becoming a multi-talented task force with not a single clue why.

But answers are coming – chilling revelations about their own minds and about new terrors that imperil the world. Together the Jacks will have to make a decision: drift apart and return to being careless teenagers? Or band together and fight a rising evil that threatens not just the Jacks, but the world.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – YA / Thriller

Rating – PG

More details about the author & the book

Connect with Mark LaFlamme on Facebook

Website http://marklaflamme.com/

Monday, October 21, 2013

Guinevere: On the Eve of Legend by Cheryl Carpinello

Chapter 1

The Hunt

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

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

“Guin’ver?”

“Hush!”

“But ...”

“Hush!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

Guinevere

Buy Now @ Amazon @ Smashwords

Genre - Arthurian Legend

Rating – G

More details about the author and the book

Connect with Cheryl Carpinello on Facebook & Twitter & Goodreads

Website http://www.beyondtodayeducator.com/

Sunday, October 20, 2013

#AmReading - Beyond Nostalgia by Tom Winton @TomWinton

Beyond Nostalgia by Tom Winton

Amazon

Born with blue in his collar instead of his veins, best-selling author Dean Cassidy chronicles his soul-scarring rise from New York's darkest alleys to a place high atop the literary world. As difficult and unlikely as such a climb is, there's yet another force working against Dean. He's forever haunted by treasured memories of his long-lost teenage soul-mate. Theresa! Theresa! Theresa! She just won't go away! Despite all Dean's hang-ups and mental baggage, he eventually does marry another woman. And for twenty years his wife, Maddy Frances, remains so giving (and forgiving) she deserves to be canonized a living saint. Even after she finds Dean unconscious at a botched suicide attempt--a time-faded photograph of Theresa clenched in his hands-her love never wavers. But is Maddy's loyalty enough to keep them together? Or will a force far stronger than fate alone change everything?