#Book Blitz #On Mission (Off Planet Book 3) by Aileen Erin #YA # Dystopian @Xpresso Book Tours27/7/2021
On Mission
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: “Go, but leave knowing that I’m okay. Earth didn’t kill me. I didn’t die on Abaddon. And SpaceTech? They’re not going to get me while I’m here. I’m going to win.” I brushed a quick kiss against his lips. “I hate that you’re having nightmares about what I played in that interview with Himani, but if you’re having them, that means that you’re forgetting that I survived. All of it. Everything. And I’ll survive whatever comes next, because I’m a di Aetes, and I never—” “—give up,” my father said with me. “Not ever.” I glanced at him. How did he know that’s what I always told myself to keep going? “Right.” “I’m glad to hear that my teaching stuck with you despite everything.” I blinked a few times. His teaching? It made sense that my secret motto—the rallying cry that I gave myself to get through everything—came from him, but I’d never thought about it before. I don’t know why. It was obvious. Of course it came from my father. “It really did stick. Telling myself that over and over got me through a lot of tough times. When I was scared or hurt or burning to death on Abaddon, I told myself that and it made me keep going. Keep fighting. If I wasn’t dead yet, then I wasn’t going to give up. I couldn’t quit. Because I’m a di Aetes.” “Good.” My father considered me for a moment and then his skin lit, just ever so slightly. “Good.” There was approval and pride and respect for me in that second good that made me feel like I’d done something really right. 
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Frostbite
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: “You barely know me, Zach.” And I was so the wrong girl. He just didn’t know it. “I’m trying to get to know you. You won’t let me.” His dark eyebrow quirked up, and his dimple flared as he offered me his totally addicting half-smile. He was right, though. So trained to stay protected I’ve pretty much forgotten how to…be. So controlled. So… I inched closer, which probably looked ridiculous as I scooted across the sand, but if I was going to take a chance, Zach was going to be that chance. His eyes widened, and he leaned forward as his grip on my hand tightened. Despite the sand mixed in with our hands, his warmth still crept up my arm. But it also left a trail of goosebumps. Do. Not. Freeze. Him. I drew in a breath, then pushed that last inch separating us. My reward was the softest pair of lips. The contact, as light as it was, sent a shockwave through my chest, rattling down my spine. The warmth of the sun toasting us, and his now familiar scent, swarmed around my body, filling me with him. All Zach. I turned my head a fraction and that angle offered me even more of him. That pouty bottom lip I’d been eyeing since I’d first seen him was all mine to taste. To nibble. And I took full advantage. 
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Today is my stop on the blog tour for Fairies and Frosting, Book 7 in Christina Bauer's series Fairy Tales of The Magicorum and I'm delighted to present Christina's guest post!
My Most (and Least!) Favorite Fairy Tales
As part of the launch tour for my new book, FAIRIES AND FROSTING (Magicorum #7), the lovely folks at Reading Tonic have asked me to share some thoughts on fairy tales. This is an ideal topic since FAIRIES AND FROSTING is inspired by the story of Cinderella!
With that in mind, here are my most (and least!) favorite fairy tales… THE THREE WORST FAIRY TALES IN THE HISTORY OF EVER, IMHO Three. Princess and the Frog In this story, the princess is a witch-with-a-b who chucks a defenseless amphibian against a wall. Not okay. She’s then rewarded for this violent behavior (I’m making finger quotes while typing rewarded) by getting a prince. Eew, eew, eew. Two. Princess and the Pea Here the so-called princess is identified by her ability to whine about bedding. Being a high-maintenance guest should not be equated with royalty. That’s just being a douchebag. One. Goldilocks This is another tale that I place in the category of high-maintenance behavior mistaken as cool. Breaking and entering is against the law, end of story. If one is in need of support, then it’s appropriate to wait outside the home for the family to return before helping yourself to their shit. THREE SUPER-COOL FAIRY TALES THAT I ADORE Three. Athena This one is more of a myth than a fairy tale, but this is my list, so nyah. Athena is the Greco-Roman goddess of war. Even though she is the only deity (other than Zeus) who can wield the infamous thunderbolt, she normally uses clever ruses to defeat her opponents instead. That’s class. Two. Isis The Isis myth was a top story in northern Africa for more than 40,000 years. Its lessons even informed ancient Egypt, a culture that survived 3000 years (that’s more than ten times longer than the US, for those who are counting.) The tale is all about doing the right thing over materialism. Yes. I write about Isis in more detail here. Three. Cinderella This is my all-time favorite story and I adore the Grimm’s Fairy Tale version. In the original, Cinderella gets her own ass to the ball. No fairy godmothers involved. I adore this take on the character and it definitely inspired my approach while writing FAIRIES AND FROSTING. So there you have it—my worst and first fairy tales. Hope you enjoyed my list and I hope to see you on a future book launch!
Thank you to Christina for her wonderful post!
Fairies and Frosting
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GIVEAWAY! Hosted by: #Fantasy Friday #A Torch Against the Night (An Ember in the Ashes Book 2) by Sabaa Tahir #YA Fantasy16/7/2021
After the events of the Fourth Trial, Martial soldiers hunt Elias and Laia as they flee the city of Serra. Laia and Elias are determined to break into the Empire’s most secure and dangerous prison to save Laia’s brother, even if for Elias it means giving up his last chance at freedom. They will have to fight every step of the way to outsmart their enemies: the bloodthirsty Emperor Marcus, the merciless Commandant, the sadistic Warden of Kauf, and, most heartbreaking of all, Helene, Elias’s former friend and the Empire’s newest Blood Shrike. Bound to Marcus’s will, Helene faces a torturous mission of her own, one that might destroy her: find the traitor Elias Veturius and the Scholar slave who helped him escape... and kill them both. ( From the book blurb) Titles in the Series (tetralogy): Book 1 An Ember in the Ashes Book 2 A Torch Against the Night Book3 A Reaper at the gates Book 4 A Sky Beond the Storm
My thoughts:
The best things about the book: -adventure, adventure, adventure -action -the world-building- we're getting more glimpses of both the Martial world and the tribes the Emprire conquered -the introduction of the third POV-Helene Aquilla's ...and some things I wasn't particularly sure about... -romance- I'm not convinced the two very weird love triangles add anything useful to the story apart from confusion. -villains- I want to know more about their motivations-we got a glimpse into the Commandant's birth-story in the last book (not enough!) and we meet a new villain (The Warden) who appears to have morbid curiousity about pain and inmate psychology, but what about Marcus? Hannah was alsoa bit one-dimensional. What is this all about: A brief recap ofEmber in the Ashes Laia and Darin's family are Scholars, an oppressed group of people conquered by the Martial Empire (inspired by Ancient Rome). Scholars are free, but there are countless restrictions on what they can do. Darin becomes an apprentice to Teluman, the only blacksmith capable ofproducing arms that can go against the blades used by Martials. He is caught and sent to prison. Laia escapes and embarks on themission to save Darin's life. She contacts the Resistance who promisetohelp heras Laia and Darin are children of legendary founders of the Resistancemovement. Laia is sent to Blackcliff, the elitemilitary school, where she is supposed to spy on Keris Venturia, the ruthless Commandant. In Blackcliff Laia meets Elias Venturius, one of the best cadets. Meanwhile, Augurs predict that the bloodline of the current Emperor is about to end and a new Emperor has to be chosen among 4 recent graduates in 4 Trials. Elias and his best friend Helene Aquilla are among the Aspirants. Whoever wins the Trials will become the new Emperor and choose their Blood Shrike, the Second-in-Command. Gentle, loyal Elias abhors the violence the Empire has become synonymous with. The Augurs promised that he will gain freedom at the end of Trials, but how and what kind of freedom is unclear. So what is Book 2 about? warning-spoilers for Book 1 !!!! Laia and Elias are on the run...Elias has given Laia his word to help her get Darin out of the prison, but first they need to avoid being caught. They manage to escape the city, although something important happens that will determine the future events. Helene Aquilla who has sworn her oath to the new Emperor, is sent on the mission to capture and kill the Empire's most wanted traitor Elias. On their way Elias and Laia are joined by Keenan, Laia's liaison with the Resistance movement. Helene's point of view brings new aspects into the story-political intrigues, her efforts to control and command the Black Guard, impossible choices she is facing that will forge her into a very different figure from the cadet girl we met in Book 1. There is a lot of action and movement -basically, 70% of the book is on the road from Serra where the Blackcliff is to the North where Laia's brother Darin is kept in the prison. We meet Elias's adoptive mother, who is the opposite of his birth one in everything. We get to know Elias more, although I still want more depth! Elias's biggest dilemma is outlined in the previous book in the Third Trial, where his decision cost his friends' lives and he has to learn to live with it. The least I say about his love life, the bettter. I felt strangely detached from Laia in this book. Laia in An Ember in the Ashes was more flawed, showed promise for development -a healer who has to become a spy and a soldier, a sheltered girl who loses all her family, a girl who is afraid of pain survives and carries her scar as a mark of courage. Here we see less determination and more confusion. She does discover her own magic abilities, so I guess we'll see her come into her own powers later in the series. The least I say about her love life, the better. There were some excellent secondary characters in this book as well. I want to know more about Cook, Afya and Soul Catcher. The Nightbringer seemed a lot scarier before the Twist. Overall, I enjoyed reading the book, but I did that it was on a lengthy side with ot that I want it to be shorter, but I would have liked more focus on the character development rather than action.
Catwalk
-- EXCERPT: My parents stared at me from across the kitchen table, stunned. They looked as though I’d just told them that our 12-year-old lab, Holly, had died. I watched the wrinkles on my mother’s forehead get deeper and darker, and it seemed like she was aging right before my eyes. Was her hair turning gray? I once heard that former First Lady Barbara Bush’s hair turned gray overnight from the shock and grief of losing her baby daughter. But I was not dead, or even dying. I was alive, and in the flesh. And I had just told my parents that I, Catherine Watson, their only daughter — the one with the 4.0 grade point average who my stay-at-home mother hoped would become a successful career woman, and my father secretly wished would follow in his footsteps as a lawyer — was not going to college after all. I was, in fact, moving to New York City. To be a fashion model. As I spoke, my letter of decline to the University of Pennsylvania’s College of Arts and Sciences was signed, sealed, and on its way to the admissions office. My mother cried and said that I was breaking her heart. My father yelled and said that I was ruining my life. Part of me feared they were right. To be honest, I couldn’t believe I’d actually gotten up the nerve to send that letter. I’d always listened to my parents, did the “right” thing. Never cut class. Been teacher’s pet. Made curfew. But I was sick of following the rules. With my high school graduation just behind me, the idea of more school — only to be followed by an office job that would imprison me within four gray walls — was something that I couldn’t succumb to yet, if ever. I was ready for adventure, for excitement, for a life less … ordinary. And I had a hunch that plenty of people stuck to the safe roads, so maybe, just maybe, I could make it on a path where everyone else wasn’t taking up so much space. Of course, it did seem an odd choice. I’d always been so ashamed of the attributes that could, quite possibly, make me a model. Lanky and lean at 6 feet tall, I had a way of sticking out in the hallways, towering over most of the female (and many of the male) teachers. Growing up, I’d tried everything I could to blend in, to bulk up, to deny my stature: I drank milkshakes. Dressed in layers. Only wore flats. Avoided stretching in gym glass. Never stood next to the short boys in line. But then, one day, something happened. My mother took me to Victoria’s Secret in Philadelphia to pick out my first fancy grown-up bra for my birthday. I was eying the “extreme lift” padded pushups (which I was sure would jumpstart my love life), when a woman tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I wanted to be a model. Just like that. “She just turned 14,” my mother said, looking a bit puzzled and slightly irritated. “I think she’s a little young, don’t you?” “She’s perfect,” said the older woman, who was in her sixties and dressed far more fashionably than my 45-year-old mother. She couldn’t possibly be talking about me, I thought. Is this some sort of practical joke? A sick, twisted joke? I looked around expecting to see some mean girls from school, but the place was virtually empty. I turned back around, feeling my face flush. “You … you think I could model?” I stammered. “I think you’re wasting your talent if you don’t,” she said. “Here’s my card. Call me when your mother changes her mind.” But she never did. And neither did my father. Despite all my begging and pleading. My parents said that high school was more important, that getting into college was more important. That anything was more important than “aspiring toward such a frivolous pursuit.” So I did what any girl in my situation would do. I stomped up the stairs, slammed the door, and screamed and cried into my pillow. But for the first time in my life, I felt like something special. Someone special. And my parents were not going to take that away from me. 
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Hate Notes
-- EXCERPT: Now that we were alone, I couldn’t help but wonder if he got my text and what he thought about it. Did it bother him? Did it affect him at all? Or did it bounce right off his bulletproof ego? Because he sure seemed unaffected. I glanced up at him, confirming his gaze, and I almost opened my mouth and confessed with an apology when he said, “Hey, I uh, wanted to say sorry for this morning. Mikey and the guys can be jerks sometimes.” I raised a brow, surprised at the admission. I hadn’t expected that. “Sometimes?” I asked, and when he laughed, I flinched at the sound. “Good point.” Topher grinned. “What about you?” I asked. “What about me?” “You’re not a jerk sometimes?” He winced like the words hurt. “Hey, you have to admit, you were staring pretty hard.” “I was not. I was—” “You were,” he crowed. “I didn’t realize it was you.” “What’s that mean?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying our exchange. What did that mean? He crossed one leg over the other, propping his ankle on top of his knee. One arm draped casually over the back of the chair as he waited for my answer. And all I could think was, It must be nice to be so comfortable in your own skin. I shifted my gaze to my nails, where I studied the glossy black polish. “It means,” I growled, “that if I had known it was you, I would’ve gouged my eyes out before taking a second look.” “Could’ve fooled me,” Topher mumbled under his breath. My eyes shot to him and narrowed. “Excuse me?” He lifted a shoulder, then dropped it. “Just that it didn’t look like you were disgusted. It looked like you wanted to jump me.” My jaw dropped, mouth gaping like a fish. I closed it, then repeated the process. Great, he’s turned me into a guppy. Annoyed with myself for letting him get to me, I snapped my mouth closed and spoke between clenched teeth. “Oh, and I suppose you’re an expert on what that looks like?” “You said it, not me, but if it makes you feel any better,” he whispered, leaning close, “I kinda liked it.” A choking sound gurgled from the back of my throat before I straightened, composing myself. He wanted to get under my skin, and I was letting him. “Whatever,” I muttered, then flipped open my textbook. “I suppose you’re sorry for being a jerk yesterday, too.” “Yesterday?” I huffed out a breath. Of course he’d so quickly forget. My fingers curled around my book until my knuckles turned white. “Yeah, in first period?” A crease formed between his brow. “You mean the name thing?” The name thing. Like it was no big deal even though they’d been torturing me with it since the sixth grade. Oh, how fun it was to be known as Skunk Girl. “Yeah, that and your friends stomping all over my stuff in the hall.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I held out a hand and stopped him. “You know what? We make choices every day that make us who we are. No point in apologizing if you’re going to continue being a prick. ” “Whoa.” I bowed my head, feeling like a jerk. It was almost as bad as the text I sent him. What had gotten into me? I never spoke my mind or stood my ground. I pulled out a blank sheet of paper so we could do some problems when I felt the vibration from his silent laughter. “What’s so funny?” “Nothing.” He smirked. I gnashed my teeth together, shooting him an unamused look. “It’s just, I’m not used to you being so opinionated. You hardly ever speak in class. I think I’ve barely heard you say two words. Who knew you were so feisty?” I frowned. That sounded almost like a compliment, but why did it feel backhanded? “Yeah, well, you don’t really know me.” “True. I guess I don’t. You sure seem to think you have me pegged though.” It was a statement, not a question. And he was right. “I know exactly who you are.” “And who is that?” he asked, his tone hard as steel. “You’re Topher Elliot, King Royal. You walk on water, and everyone bows at your feet.” “King Royal?” I rolled my eyes. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what everyone calls you guys.” He exhaled and stared down at his textbook with a frown. For a moment, he looked almost bothered by it. But that was impossible. Boys like Topher didn’t care what girls like me thought of them. “I mean, I’ve heard the royal thing, but . . . Anyway, it’s not like I wanna be called that.” “Okay,” I said, when what I really meant was You expect me to believe that? “So that’s it, then, huh? One label and you’ve got me all figured out?” His throat bobbed, and he almost sounded . . . angry or upset. Which was weird. When I said nothing, he straightened in his chair and glanced down at his book. “Whatever. Let’s just get on with this.” 
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Photos from Simon_sees, Dmitry Karyshev
