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Gulf of Deception
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Sunlight streamed through the windows, and pang thudded deep in my chest. Hard to believe I was leaving this stunning scene in a few short months for college. A thousand miles north in Boston, away from the sun, the sand, and the balmy breeze. At least the ocean was nearby—except it would be the lumbering, lead-colored, frigid Atlantic, and I’d be wearing an unflattering parka with boots up to my knees. Maybe when the snow melted in June, I could trick myself into believing I was standing on the Gulf. All so I could one day add my name to the Harmony Law letterhead. Except that was the last thing I wanted. My feet stopped short as a shock reverberated through the walls, like something heavy crashed down in another part of the building. But there were no other offices on the top floor. I pulled my headphones from my ears and turned off the music. At the office door, I peered into the hall. A gust of humid air rushed down the narrow passage and ruffled my hair. Now where had the breeze come from? Delicate music came from the speaker system—some unnamed melody that sounded familiar and should have vocals. Another blast of breeze hit me as if someone had forgotten to shut a window. “Mom?” I called. The law office answered me with soft strains of piano wafting down the hall. “Dad?” My father’s door stood ajar at the far end of the building. Next to it, my mother’s office door was shut. Maybe they were both in Dad’s office. His was the only one with a balcony. They could have gone outside and left the door open. Another violent crash came from the direction of his office. A gunshot rang out. Then another. Followed by a blood-curdling scream. Mom! Dad! Terrified, I crept down the hallway, my back pressed against the wall, my cellphone pulled from my pocket and clutched in my shaking hand. My heart pounded, making me faint. I blinked away the sensation. Sharp blasts of unintelligible conversation drew me toward the office as wind whipped down the corridor. I hesitated at the door and gasped. Mom knelt beside Dad, a gun in her hand. Blood colored the front of his polo shirt—a crimson stain spreading from his chest and down his left side on a backdrop of stormy blue fabric. Strangled sobs ripped from my lips. I rushed in, dropped to the floor beside my father, and took his limp hand. Glass shards bit into my knees as a terrible gurgle erupted from his throat. Bloody froth colored his chin and lips. The room spun around me. “Dad? Please, Dad. Can you hear me?” Spots popped in my brain, and another wave of vertigo hit as my abdomen heaved. I forgot how to inhale. His bewildered eyes were wide, his mouth moving soundlessly, his fingers splayed against the floor. I couldn’t tear my gaze from his face as I laced his fingers in mine and squeezed. “Dad! What should I do?” “William?” Mom whispered. She pressed a wad of orange fabric—the scarf she’d worn this morning—over the wound on his chest. Fresh terror gripped me as blood dripped down her cheek, and I couldn’t tell if it belonged to him or her. Dad struggled to lift his other arm, but it fell back to the floor. “He’s gone, William,” she said. “You’re going to be fine.” Somehow, I unlocked my words. “Who’s gone?” She ignored my question, or maybe she didn’t hear me. Tears and blood trickled off her chin, making pink spots on her white shirt. “Call for an ambulance. Oh God.” The gun slipped from her hand and landed on the carpet with a thud. “William.” Her voice broke on his name. My heart tore from its moorings on a crash of agony. “Dad? Dad.” For a split second, his gaze fixed on mine, then he was gone as if a candle extinguished in a sudden, sharp wind. 
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In A Mirror
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Becoming Brooklyn
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble -- EXCERPT: “Why do you need to talk to…just us?” Bree asked, her stare critical and questioning. “Why not all the 9/11 Babies?” The general nodded, acknowledging the fairness of her question. “You would probably instinctively group yourself with the rest of the kids who had parents die in the attacks of 9/11. And while the entire group of 9/11 Babies have been branded heroes – appropriately, I might add – the six of you are different than the others who attended the dinner the other night.” He brought his hands in front of him, clasped them together casually in front of his broad torso. “In fact, I’ve been assigned to talk with you all this evening regarding this difference. But before I begin, please know I am about to tell you something that is quite possibly the most sensitive, most valuable, most protected secret in our military today.” My heart picked up speed. Suddenly I felt like I was sitting in the principal’s office, in trouble but not quite sure why. “Sensitive, how?” Adrianna asked. The general pursed his lips. “It may take a while to explain. If I may, I’m going to ask for your patience as I attempt to do so.” He walked slowly toward us, clicking a button to lower a white screen behind him. It hovered above the fireplace as if it were a painting. “I was thinking about the best way to inform you on the topic, and I decided I should start with what you already know: what you see in the papers and what you’ve learned in History Class.” Ugh. History Class. The six of us took turns shooting uneasy glances to one another, and the general, like so many teachers, pressed on, despite our obvious lack of enthusiasm. “Even before the terrorist attacks on 9/11,” he explained, “the United States of America was the world’s leader in stopping terrorism. We continue to fulfill this role today.” As if to prove his point, the screen behind him exploded into pictures of ongoing warfare. Bombs, tanks, and horrific blasts filled the screen. “Terrorists know no geographical boundaries,” he continued as the pictures ceased, “but neither do we, when it comes to humanitarian issues. When the U.S. was young, we were spoiled by our location. Oceans separated us from the rest of the world’s conflicts, so we were primarily concerned with our own. But after the atrocities of the Second World War were exposed, we knew we needed to make a global effort to combat the evil that existed outside our borders.” “The way we did this was to develop our best, most gifted citizens. We identified them at a young age and used our training facilities to nurture their gifts, pushing them as hard as they could be pushed, and making sure those gifts weren’t wasted. Soon, we had enough of these gifted warriors to form an elite military group. Its earliest members named it The Crest.” “And what does this have to do with us?” I asked. I mean, it was nice of him to give us a history lesson and all, but the anticipation of why we were meeting with a general was killing me. “Patience, Brooklyn,” General Richards replied, his tone implying he was losing his own. “I promised I’d explain, and I’m about to.” He turned to address the whole group again. “You are six of the so-called ‘9/11 Babies’,” he began. “But you are a special six. The hundreds of other 9/11 Babies lost their parents heroically on that horrible day, and you did, too. But your parents were more than heroes.” He paused, making sure he had our undivided attention. We weren’t breathing; we couldn’t. “You would probably think of them as superheroes, members of the very same group I described.” His gaze intensified. “They were part of our most secret, gifted branch of the military: The Crest: Chosen, Rare, Elite… Superhuman and Triumphant.” 
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The Hidden Princess
-- FREE for a limited time only! -- EXCERPT: The shopkeeper grabbed the doll from among the top shelves. “Here you go.” He handed it to her. Just then, her fingers met his, and she heard the shopkeeper’s voice. “Where did this hideous and filthy-looking girl come from? Good thing I noticed her fast, lest she would get my dolls tainted with her hands. Let’s hope she leaves soon.” She gazed at the shopkeeper, whose mouth remained closed. Those words stung. Even though the shopkeeper never said them, Penny knew they held more truth than those he said. These were his thoughts, and she was reading them when she accidentally touched him. Then she felt dizzy, and a gloom fell over the store as if something had suddenly blocked out the sunlight from the windows. But it wasn’t the windows. It was the shopkeeper. His form emitted an ominous light and right above his head, she saw black mist rising, forming the shape of a face with eerie glowing eyes. It stared straight at Penny. “Penny…Penny….” Penny heard an insidious voice calling her. Stop! Stop! She willed her mind to look away. “Penny…Penny!” A force pulled her back and she almost crumpled to the floor if Thomas had not held her firmly. “Are you alright?” he asked. “There’s someone–!” Penny pointed toward the shopkeeper, who was frowning at her. The eerie face and black mist were gone. “What is it?” Thomas asked. It took her a while before she spoke again. “I don’t know. It was there a while ago.” As she looked down, she saw the doll lying on the floor. She picked it up and slowly stroked any dust off it as if it were a real girl. “How much is it?” he asked the beleaguered keeper. “Four silver pieces.” Thomas handed the silver to the shopkeeper. A look of relief appeared on his face as he took the money. The horror of the black mist weighed heavy on Penny’s mind as she made her way out. She recalled the mean thoughts of the shopkeeper. For a moment, she had believed the outside world was different and she finally found a place she belonged. Penny blinked hard as her eyes began to water. Suddenly, the streets seemed less joyful than before, and the sounds of the people and activities seemed drowned out by the memory of the black mist. That voice. It called her name. She knew for certain it was no hallucination. It was the first time such a vision had occurred. She never saw it when she touched others before, although there weren’t really that many, to begin with. There were only a few who could tolerate standing within inches of her. She must have drifted off in her thoughts because the next thing she knew, she had fallen behind Thomas and someone bumped into her from the side. “Watch where you are going, you–!” A rough-looking man said. “Hey, little girl, are you lost?” “No.” “Don’t be afraid, I just want to help. Let me take you home.” He grabbed her by the arm. “Stop it, let me go!” Penny tried to pry his fingers free. “This must be my lucky day. I wonder how much this girl would fetch.” She heard the man’s voice, yet his mouth remained closed. She stared at the man, who stood there, frozen in time. Not just him. The entire town had come to a standstill. A ball was floating in the air, as the boy who threw it waited an eternity for it to fall back down. Then, the surroundings turned black, and the black mist appeared around the man’s frame. The eyes of the black misty face shone a pale white. “Penny…Penny…” spoke the insidious voice. “NO!” Penny screamed and forced her eyes shut. At once, the darkness lifted, and the sounds of reality replaced the heavy silence. “Get away from me!” she screamed with her real voice audible. “Hey!” A familiar voice said, and the rough-looking man turned around, his face meeting head-on with a big fist. The man fell to the ground before Penny. “Touch her again, and you will never touch anything for the rest of your life!” The man crawled to his feet and bolted. “Penny, didn’t I tell you not to—Penny? Penny!” Penny ran off before Thomas could finish his sentence. Penny kept running. All she wanted then was to get as far away as possible from this place, from the prejudice, the black mist. She didn’t know how long she ran before Thomas finally caught up with her. “Penny, it’s alright now.” He wrapped his hands around her head, and she tucked her head in his tummy. “What happened, Penny? Please tell me.” Penny told Thomas about all that had happened. The black mist, the eerie face. Although Thomas understood little of it, he listened, for he knew there was always much truth in what she said. The world wasn’t as great as Penny thought out to be. It broke his heart she had to learn this fact on her first outing. The outing had come to an end, and they returned to the castle. The one happy thing the outing brought her was the doll she bought. She gave her a name. Cinder. And she became Penny’s companion ever since. She thought of the boy named Canyon, and how he was the only person without disdain for her, though, she wondered if it would be the same way if she touched him and read his mind. But most of all, she wondered about the black mist. What was it? And that eerie face. Who, or rather, what was it? What disturbed her most was the fact that it called her name like it was reaching into her mind. 
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The Day We Die
-- EXCERPT: The noises of the crowd and the mayor’s voice fade into the background, and for a moment, the only sound that cuts into my head is the frenzied beating of my own heart. The stage blurs in and out of focus, and my breathing quickens and my heart thunders like a racehorse. I clench my hands into tight fists, trying to quell the tremors racing through them. This is it. In a few minutes, I will be Branded. An adult—though not in age. I’ll know my fate, my future; everything that means anything. I inhale. Exhale. The air squeezes out of me in one quick rush, and for a split second, I can’t breathe. Fear wraps its unforgiving fingers around my heart, chilling it to the core. Then, a hand on my arm. A whisper of a voice in my ear. “It’ll be okay. Here.” It’s the boy beside me. I shake my head vigorously, and the thundering applause rushes back to my ears. It’s loud. Very loud. I blindly accept whatever the boy is offering me, and a round tablet drops into my palm. He gently holds on to my hand behind his back, smiling and waving fearlessly at the crowd. His expression is brave and bright, his unfamiliar fingers warm around mine. I squeeze them until I’m sure I’ve cut off his circulation, but he doesn’t let go—just gives me a gentle squeeze in return. I look wordlessly at him, my dry tongue unable to make a sound. He’s taller than me, wearing a black tux. Blond, tousled hair frames a good-looking face—sharp jawline, arched brows, a charming twinkle in his eye. As he waves, his gaze sweeps to me…and a quiet, grim smile plays at his mouth. His steady eyes sharpen as they meet mine, boring into my soul. Blue eyes. Soft blue. 
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Gambit
-- EXCERPT: I stood at the hearth to warm myself. The heat felt good against the room’s deep chill, and the dancing flames intrigued me. My family couldn’t afford wood as a fuel source. Trees were a precious resource in the Outlying Lands. Burning them required a permit and cost a fortune. Given the heaping pile of logs stacked beside the fireplace, neither of those obstacles had been a problem for Reece. He approached me with another strange device. “Turn and face me.” I did as he asked, noting the way firelight flickered over his dark hair and reflected off his eyes. The effect was startling. Who was this man, that he gave the order for a bluster’s death one moment and shimmered like a cat the next? The device he held began to glow. A warm ray of light extended above me and washed over my entire body. When it finished, an image in my shape hovered above his palm. A red dot blinked on the lower right half. Exactly where my dagger was hidden. “Well, look at that,” he said. “My little butterfly has a stinger.” I took a step back, knowing what he was going to ask of me. But I wouldn’t give it up, not the gift Mum had given me long ago, the one valuable thing I owned. “Hand it over, Morrigan.” “Don’t call me that. My name is Willow.” He shrugged. “If you prefer. Now do as I say.” I hesitated, and his icy-blue eyes narrowed. “We can handle this one of two ways. Either you give up your weapon willingly, or I take it from you. And I assure you, I won’t be gentle about it.” “But this is my only protection,” I said slowly. “You won’t need it. I’m all the security you require.” I didn’t want his security. I had my own, and his silky arrogance was starting to get on my nerves, calling forth an unreasonable yet potent desire to challenge him. “My mum gave it to me. It’s mine, and you’re not taking it.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, yes, I am. I won’t risk your attacking me when my back is turned.” “It’s not for attacking, it’s for defending,” I argued irritably. “Which is exactly what I’ll do if you come any closer.” “You are no match for me,” he said, with a husky laugh. An infuriating smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Do yourself a favor, and cease this childish game before you get hurt.” Something desperate slid through my belly, hot and unrecognizable. It shook me with its intensity, and I had no strength against its will. Retreating another step, I felt for the weapon through my skirt. Vibrations tingled across my palms, and the skill’s power rushed through my veins. When I pictured the flat, silver surface of the blade, it trembled inside the scabbard as if ready to leap into my hand. Let him try for it. He would regret laughing at me. “Keep your distance,” I warned him, “or we’ll see who gets hurt.” 
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The Immortal Game
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My thoughts:
This story was so much fun to read! I am a big fan of mythology-based books and books about loyalty, friendship, adventure, standing up for injustly accused and finding your own way in the world. Add not one but two strong female leads to the mix and you've got me swooning! Yes, this book is perfect for fans of Percy Jackson, although it doesn't focus on demi-gods, so there is very little connection with the human world. The main characters Galene, daughter of Poseidon, Iyana,daughter of Zeus, Demetri, son of Ares, and Braxtus are young, so-called unnamed gods. They have to take a special kind of test to earn their immortality and future veneration from humans. There is also Kostas, another adorable character in the book, who has already passed his Trial and has earned his name of the God of Games. Galene fails her test, although there are some doubts about the fairness of the trial in her case. She is sad, but resigned to try again in future. Then unthinkable happens: Mount Olympus is attacked and Galene is framed for what occured. She is exiled. Her best friend Iyana speaks up in her favour and banishes herself in protest against the unfairness of the Gods' decision. They are joined by Demetri,and later Braxtus and Kostas. Once they reach Galene's previously exiled older brother Chrysander, they will have to make some choices that would test their loyalty to their home and would send them on an unforgettable adventure. There are several POVs in this book and I loved getting these different perspectives, although I must admit Kostas's was always my favourite, due not only to his character, but also his special abilities. The mix of characters was absolutely perfect, plus they all have to grow and develop in the book to show to the world what they really are and what they are capable of! The setting was fantastic and the quest were fantastic- there was so much variety! The pace was excellent- just enough time to let us get to know the characters better and lots of exciting action. One of my favourite scenes was the battle of Iyana with the traitor- it was great to see this generaly quiet and insecure girl realise her power and use it in a spectacular way. Another top moment is the Beast Maker Game, but you have to read the book to find out what it is all about... Highly recommended to anyonewho loves a good action-packed mythology story! Thankyou to NetGalley, the publisher and Xpresso Book Tours for the ARC provided in exchange for an honest opinion. 
Today I'm absolutely delighted to participate in the blog tour and present an excerpt from Huntress, the latest instalment in Angelbound fantasy series by Christina Bauer!
Huntress
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HUNTRESS Excerpt
Angelbound Offspring #7 Huntress Six Years Old. Ish. Glass dragons sleep like the dead. I should know. I’m one of them. Imagine a snake who’s bigger than a freight train, and that’s me in my beastie form. Who wouldn’t want to look like that at night? When I rest, I curl myself up in a loop and cuddle my own scales. So snuggly. I guess other dragon shifters snooze in their human shapes. Yuck. That’s all I can say. Which brings me to this morning. I wake up, flick out my forked tongue and taste the air. Stale, per usual. My home’s a massive cavern made from metallic crystals that reflect at different angles. It’s like living inside a human’s disco ball, only less exciting. Over the years, I’ve counted every rock and ledge in this place. In two spots, the wall stones even look like faces. I named them Walter and Stony. Spend enough time in a cave and all sorts of things seem to make sense. Anyway, after I wake up, I go through my morning ritual. It’s a habit to scan all the wall rocks and see if anything changed since last night. Nothing did. No shock there. My roomie is a dragon familiar named Doofus. He’s super-small and still sleeping on his favorite rock platform near the ceiling. Nothing’s different about that, either. I’ve lived in this cavern my whole life with only Doofus for company. In case you haven’t guessed yet, my existence is really boring. That won’t last, though. I have plans to leave this cavern and serve Jaya, the Hive Queen of the Glass Dragons, out in the real world. But that’s a month away. For now, I’ll go through my morning routine. Next up? Check myself in the mirror stones. Honestly, there’s not much else to do. And I really am a good-looking beastie. Like all glass dragons, I’ve a long body with grey scales, stubby legs, and huge insect wings. I can turn invisible at will, but why bother? Doofus and I have seen that trick already. Many times. Speaking of Doofus, my dragon familiar is snoozing on his favorite ledge. Little by little, I uncoil myself while moving upward. Once I’m at eye-level with my tiny friend, I speak in a low voice. “Hey, Doofus.” By the way, my familiar is convinced that he chose a super-cool name. What can I say? He gets confused. “Go away.” Doofus rolls over so his tiny butt and wings are facing me. “I’m sleeping.” “I’ve a question for you.” “The answer is no,” snaps Doofus. “I haven’t asked anything.” Doofus rolls over to face me. “Fine. Go on.” “We’ve talked about leaving this cave. It’s almost time to join the real world, don’t you think?” “Cave? Our home is called a honeycomb hall,” corrects Doofus. “Use the right terminology. If I were a glass dragon, I’d be proud of my hive heritage.” “Hey, I love my buggy side.” Glass dragons are like insects in more than just our wings. The magic of every dragon in our colony ties right into our hive queen. She’s mega-powered, which is awesome. But there’s a downside. If the queen gets killed without a replacement, then the entire colony dies as well. That’s where I come in. I’m a hive queen novice. That makes me back-up royalty. One day, I might take Jaya’s place. Until then, I’m magically matured in a honeycomb hall, just like dozens of other possible queens. Doofus is my familiar, which makes him my teacher and general handler. He’s also super bossy. Speaking of Doofus, he hops up and gives what I call his smiley side-eye. “I’m waiting,” he declares. See what I mean? Bossy. “Fine,” I reply. “It’s a honeycomb hall.” “Good. And don’t forget it.” —end of excerpt-- ORDER NOW: Amazon / Apple / GooglePlay / Kobo / Nook 
The Weight of the Sky
-- EXCERPT: Chris’s fingers trembled over the email icon on the cracked screen of her Samsung phone. “It’s from St. Catherine’s. Oh my God, Lesley, I’m going to pee my pants.” “Spelling Bee, there’s no way they didn’t accept you. Get that tremble outta your pale-ass chin.” Lesley pulled her full lips and dark eyebrows into an assured pout. “You’re the smartest freshman in the history of Bridgeport High School. All that shit about string theory you were spouting off in the hallway last week? I didn’t even know you were speaking English. I thought Mr. Idelson was going to nut himself.” “Eww.” Chris wrinkled her nose at the thought of her ancient Biology teacher doing anything that resembled nutting himself. “Eww.” Lesley jutted her chin in agreement. “The point is, you’re a genius. Just open it.” Chris pushed her brown hair behind her ears and attempted to duplicate Lesley’s self-confident posture. It was true. She was smart. At public school. St. Catherine’s Prep existed in a different universe. It was, without question, the best high school in the area, possibly in the whole state of Connecticut. The campus gleamed like a bastion of perfection, nestled securely into the part of Fairfield County dominated by large, estate-style houses and private waterfront property. The girls wore charcoal grey uniform skirts and the boys wore monogrammed blue blazers. The tuition was $35,000 a year. The thought that they might accept her there on a full scholarship for tenth grade seemed as ludicrous as Hagrid the groundskeeper sweeping into her mother’s postage stamp apartment to let her know she’d been accepted to Hogwarts. Chris took a breath and clicked on the screen with shaking fingers. She blinked as the words swam into coherent sentences in front of her. Dear Ms. Miller, The admissions committee at St. Catherine’s School…outstanding application…meaningful performance…blah, blah, blah… Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance to St. Catherine’s School for the 2020-2021 school year. “I got in.” Chris almost choked on the words. “Told you.” Lesley deadpanned for a beat before she let out an excited scream. The noise ricocheted over the cracked cement courtyard of the K Street Housing Project. “Maybe now your mom will get off your case about hanging out with me.” Chris grimaced. “Maybe.” Maybe not. Lesley shimmied into a victory dance. “We need to celebrate!” Chris could predict the next words to come out of her mouth as clearly as if Lesley were reading off a script. “Do you have ten dollars?” This is why my mother doesn’t like you, Chris thought, smiling. 
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by: #Book Blitz #Sedition (Children of Erikkson1) by E.M.Wright #YA #Steampunk @Xpresso Book Tours19/5/2021
Sedition
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