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Rise Like a Phoenix
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble -- EXCERPT: When Crooked Nose punched, David blocked. Then, with a quick elbow movement, he smacked the man’s face with the end of the rope before stepping back. The effect was rather comical. Crooked threw another punch. David pounced, wrapping the rope around the man’s wrist. Yanking the tied arm back made him double over. His eyes turned cold and hard. “Who sent you?” The man’s breath sawed in and out. “You’ve no idea whose daughter you’ve run away with, do you?” He pulled Crooked’s arm straight back some more. “Enlighten me.” “Make her tell you,” he hissed. David swallowed a lump in his throat. “She hides nothing from me.” He then snapped the man’s arm at the elbow, and grabbed Elisabeth’s hand, pulling her to a run. Her breath hitched, and the colorful bouquet of wildflowers dropped. “By the gods!” David led the way through a field of grazing sheep, toward a grove of trees. “Your father is here?” “No…” She shook her head in denial. “No, he can’t be…can he?” “You tell me!” Elisabeth let out an uncontrollable whimper. If Dad found out she was time-traveling—she was so grounded.
GIVEAWAY! --
Pranic
-- EXCERPT: “I don’t want your T-shirt,” Wade grumbled, going over to the sink. “You need something to wear. Won’t something happen if you don’t?” Wade ignored her and started to wring his jacket into the sink. “You can’t wear a toilet-water-soaked jacket home. That’s unsanitary.” Wade dropped his coat in the sink. “Look, if I take your damn shirt, will you leave me alone?” “I suppose.” She handed it over to him. Wade didn’t say anything and slipped on her Hamilton High cheerleading T-shirt. She let out a little laugh. The sleeves landed about three-fourths the way down his arms. “What?” Wade asked. “It looks good on you.” She wasn’t totally lying, either. His lean muscular frame was usually hidden under all his layers but was now on display because the shirt hugged tight around his chest, showing off his pectorals, with the ropey muscles of his forearms exposed. He furrowed his brow. “Shut up.” “Again, sorry about everything,” she said. “Look, you can leave now. You don’t have to be nice to me because your brother is an asshole.” “Somebody needs to be nice to you, and it’s not just because he’s my brother.” “Well, don’t. Go back to your cheerleading practice,” he said, practically seething. “Fine.” She crossed her arms and huffed. Most people liked Heather. She was friendly to all, so Wade and his not-so-sunshiny reaction to her was something she didn’t encounter all that often. “I’ll meet you by your locker tomorrow morning to get my shirt back.” “I’ll just give it to you now.” He grabbed the bottom hem and began to pull it up. “Nope, you need it. Where’s your locker?” He sighed. “Next to room 104.” Heather nodded and grabbed the paper towels from the sink. “Here, bend down a bit.” She motioned toward herself with her hand. He snarled his lip up at her. She pointed at his forehead. “You need some help.” “Oh, um, no, don’t worry.” He vigorously shook his head. “C’mon.” She squirted some soap on the towels and stood on her tiptoes. Placing a hand on his cheek, she started scrubbing his forehead. A tingle ran up her arm from where the tip of her fingers touched his face. She stopped cleaning his forehead for a minute, tipping her head to the side, looking at him. “What?” he asked, quirking up an eyebrow. “Nothing,” she said a bit too quickly. He grabbed her hand, trying to take back the paper towels. She gasped as she felt the tingle again. “The air in here must be really dry or something.” “Yeah, okay,” he said. “You keep shocking me.” “What?” He scrunched up his nose, staring at her. “Whenever we touch.” She put her hand on his cheek again, but all she felt was his warm face. He stared at her with his big blue eyes. “Nothing,” she whispered. He shook his head. She kept her hand on his face, looking into his eyes. She wanted to hug him, help get the sadness out of his eyes, his expression. She now saw that the way he held himself in general exuded melancholy. She mistook it for anger before, but now saw it was something else. “Hey.” He peeled her hand from his face and squeezed her fingers. “I have to get going.” “Yeah, sure.” They stood, staring at each other, a warmth filling her the longer he held on. “But thanks,” he said softly. She smiled. “No problem.”
GIVEAWAY! --
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Year of the Fledgling
-- EXCERPT: She pounded on the thick door as hard and loudly as she could. When it began to open and she had her first look at his face again—his features a mask of puzzled bewilderment—the terrible pressure in her chest finally released in a flood, and it all seemed to spill right out of her mouth. “Wha…?” he started to ask. But the flood had already hit her. “I am beyond vexed with you,” she seethed, flinging off her hood so he could see the full extent of her rage before she pushed past him to enter the watchtower. Theron glanced out into the darkening evening as if to make sure she didn’t have anyone else with her, then he shut the door and turned, lifting his eyebrows sternly. “Please tell me you did not walk up here by yourself.” Ignoring his question, she demanded, “Honestly, how could you do this to me?” “Are you absolutely mad?” he challenged right back, just as upset as she, and stormed forward. “What were you thinking? If someone had seen you—” “They would’ve shrugged me off as you! But no one saw me. And I was thinking about how mad I am,” she railed, lifting her chin to meet his swirling, livid gaze. Theron scoffed. “Yes, I can tell you’re unhappy, but that gives you no right to put your very livelihood at stake to come up here and tell me thus.” “It’s my livelihood to worry about, and my right to risk it as I please.” “And you are one of two people left in this entire, bleeding world that I’m allowed to still talk to. So I refuse to let you be so frivolous with your—” “Argh!” she shrieked, lifting her hands and curling her fingers as if to display her claws at him. “You are so maddening.” One of his eyebrows arched, then he burst out grinning. “But am I maddening enough for you to want to kiss me senseless again? Please say yes.” She snorted. “Hardly. You’re certainly maddening enough to make me want to wring your fool neck as hard as I can, though.” Lifting his chin to put his neck on full display, Theron countered, “Well, take your best shot, little healer-in-training. But first, would you at least tell me what I did wrong this time that made you so mad? A fellow appreciates at least knowing why he’s being strangled.” Xia sucked in an irate breath. Then her chin trembled. And finally, the tears that she’d been holding back all the way from Norbin’s pig pen came gushing down her cheeks. “You made me care for you!” she accused, weeping so soundly that her entire body shuddered and she had to cover her mouth with both hands to contain it. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Neptune’s Window: First Glance
-- EXCERPT (Book 1): Demanding spirits barged their way into Aries’s mind, each voice trying to outdo the other. For a moment they went away, allowing her to bask in the silence. But as soon as she took a step toward the school, their clamor started back up. Aries ran behind a row of palm trees, shielding herself from streams of cars and pedestrians as the high-pitched aggravation attacked her senses. “Not today…please not today,” she begged no one in particular. Out of sight, she dropped to her knees and picked at the grass as the noise escalated. “Dammit. I said stop.” Giving in, she put her hands in her lap. With her index finger, she wrote the alphabet on her leg. She needed deep concentration to make the connection. She waited for a clear voice to come through, dreading – yet at the same time accepting – communication with the dead. After tracing a Z on her leg, she started over with A as a faint whisper formed. Unable to make out any words, she slowed her pace and drew the letter B. She kept repeating this action, taking deeper breaths each time, trying to match the frequency of the spirit. She’d almost given up when a clear voice said, “You need to find out the truth, Aries.” 
GIVEAWAY! --
Wooded Discovery
-- EXCERPT: The towel I’m wrapped in smells like Mom’s favorite mountain-scented fabric softener. A clean air smell drifts from the wet terry cloth, mixing with the biting scent of chlorine from the pool water in my hair. Both normal smells. Both familiar. Neither helps me relax after hearing their detailed description of what I am. Mom sits across from me at our kitchen table, sipping from her favorite purple coffee cup. Dad sits in the chair next to Mom. Take out the trash. Pick up your dirty underwear. Oh, by the way, you’re a wizard. “Congratulations.” Dad toasts me with his cup. “You’ve transmogrified.” He slurps his coffee. The clock ticks on the wall over the counter. The refrigerator hums as the ice maker kicks on. And I’m a wizard. (Note to self: J.K. Rowling was full of crap. Finding out you’re a wizard sucks.) “What does that mean?” More Latin? “Changed, honey, into a wizard.” We sit in silence for a moment. Mom crosses her legs and kicks her foot back and forth, wiggling the table with her. Dad shakes, too, bouncing his knees. Vibrations from their movements travel through the wooden tabletop. Like they’re five and Christmas has come early. All I want is to wake up from this weird dream, finish high school, and go away to college. But as much as I want to argue with them, I can’t. Mom froze my body with her mind. I jumped out a window and flew. Dad flew after me. On a scale of one-to-ten, that’s enough weirdness to score a one hundred on the weird-shit-o-meter. Finding out I’m a wizard sounds less insane by comparison. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Castelon
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble -- EXCERPT: “A portal. Anything. I’ll take a bicycle at this point.” Dad frowned, leaning on his hands on the oval table, and barely looked up from the maps. “You’re not ready.” She clenched her fists and resisted the urge to lean against the opposite side of the table. That would just prove his point. A few wizards circled the work surface along with Dad, moving pieces, making notes. Most likely advisors or military leaders—probably not people she should be questioning his judgment in front of, but what choice did she have? “I’m walking, I’m standing—” “You’re hobbling and wobbling.” He straightened and waved a hand at a young man standing at attention along the wall of the office-like space. “Take her back to her room, please.” He gave her a stern look, accentuating the dark circles under his eyes, no doubt caused by the weight of bad news no one would tell her. “I’ll come see you in an hour. Where’s Marcus?” “I don’t know.” Her tongue took over with more impertinence than she’d ever leveled at him before. “I imagine he has better things to do in the middle of this war than make sure I don’t leave my room.” A few of the wizards shot each other uncomfortable looks. Dad sighed. “One hour, Brin. You can survive that long.” She followed the stiff young man back to her room, trying not to pant too much from the simple exertion of walking through the halls. Two days of consciousness had made for two days of monotonous pain heightened by the urgency stirring in her gut. She had to get back to Wraithwood. She had to find Excalibur. She had to stop this war, this slaughter, the destruction she had caused. When Marcus wasn’t hovering over her like an anxious mother hen, he’d been spending every moment in Dirklon’s—admittedly limited—library. Finding nothing. But Dad banned her from accompanying Marcus even there. “You go book crazy,” Dad had said. “I’ll find you climbing some shelf or forgetting to eat for a whole day in a research frenzy.” She wanted to protest that she didn’t do that. Except that she definitely did, and had, done that. More than once. So instead of book crazy, she went stir crazy, with nothing to think about but pain. Sometimes the magic in her veins ran hot, sometimes cold. Sometimes it seemed to push against her skin, threatening to explode. She dared not explore the deep, roiling mass within her like an acidic sea. “Here you are, my lady.” The young man gave a jerky bow. She focused, only now realizing they had stopped. “Thank you.” She pushed open the wooden door and shut it behind her, slumping against the surface, her scant muscles feeling like gelatin. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t wander.” She scowled at Marcus where he leaned against the bedpost, arms crossed. He pushed to his feet and scanned her face. Unlike Dad’s, his expression was soft. “Brinnie. Please. There’s nothing we can do right now.” “So much for agreeing to a road trip.” She winced at her own sharp tone. “I’m still on board.” His tone remained even, unaffected by hers. “After you take time to rest and heal.” Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away. “I need to do something. Something to keep my mind—” She didn’t finish. To keep my mind out of that dark place. To keep it from returning to the dungeon, the battlefields, the screams… He placed gentle hands on her shoulders. “I know.” She took a shuddering breath. His unexplained voice in her mind, another mystery, should have concerned her, but it soothed her thoughts. She sighed and leaned against him for support. “Should I tell her?” Her head snapped up, almost knocking him in the chin. “Tell me what?” “Whoa.” He steadied her, expression sheepish. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. How about you sit down first?” She eased herself into the bedside chair. If she sat on the bed, she would be sucked into sleep. And she didn’t have time for that. “What do you know?” He sighed. “Things aren’t…great at Wraithwood.”
GIVEAWAY! --
Defy the Stars
-- EXCERPT: “What a shame. Polk spoke highly of you.” Aerestol snapped his fingers and the sentinels redeployed, penning Crew in. While Crew was a head taller, the goons were packing revolvers tucked into the waistbands of their pants. “In my line of work, I can’t afford to trust anyone. Rumormongers are dealt with accordingly. My advice? Don’t become one.” He hooked his thumbs into his vest, and with his head down, turned toward the grand staircase. “Now what?” Crew said. Was he done for? Were his goons going to take him out. Kill him? Aerestol pivoted, and as if improvising a reply, his head slanted sideways. “So far, you haven’t impressed me, boy. You should have handed over the girl. Instead, I walk away empty handed. I can’t tolerate that.” He ran his fingers beneath his chin. “Perhaps Polk was speaking with a straight tongue. He never failed me. I tell you what, for his sake alone, your obeisance is most welcome if you want into my lucrative business.” His mouth spread. “If you make it out alive…you know how to reach me, through Dyke. Ingrain this into that thick skull of yours. No snitches. One bullet.” He jutted his chin towards the one-eyed goon. “Do it.” The sentry pulled his revolver from his waistband and targeted Crew’s chest. “Hey!” Crew barked, anxious to get Aerestol to look at him. The doctor swerved and Crew straightaway connected with his dark eyes. Gotcha! “So this is how we’re going to end our business arrangement, aye? A bullet to the heart?” he pitched his voice. Aerestol’s pupils enlarged. “I’m the only one who can bring the girl to you. Don’t waste me and my talents.” Crew blinked, terminating his connection, and the doctor squeezed his eyes and shook his head. “His thigh,” ordered Aerestol. “It’s unfortunate that I can’t stay to watch how this performance ends.” The orc lowered his gun and pulled the trigger. White light sliced through Crew. And a blinding explosion of stars as intense pain ripped through him. His knees buckled. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Mayatte’s Catharsis: A Feathered Serpent Reborn
-- EXCERPT: Zeke squinted his eyes in reaction to her reddish glow. He took a deep breath, filling the top of his lungs. “But I can help! I have knowledge of their weaponry, their tactics, and their mindset.” “You have helped enough…believe me. It’s best you hide until the intruders are ridden. Just like on Murminilia.” “But—” He reached for her arm, and winced. “Ouch! Your skin. It’s burning.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you seek to touch me?” He broke eye contact. “I don’t know,” he said, shifting his gaze to the Whispering Trees. He rubbed his elbow and tucked his chin. “I…I, I think I love you.” She remained stoic. “Has Mayatte taught you nothing? Even when we are in peril, you still can’t see past yourself—past your desires. You have put an entire ecosystem in danger, all the while lust and power fill your heart.” His lip trembled. “But—” “There is no but. There is no love, only Mayatte. What you feel is a desire to control and conquer. You want to be a part of me so you can understand me. That is not love. There is no love here. There is only Mayatte. She sought to embrace you, and you betrayed her for your own gain. You do not love me, you are not Mayatte, you love yourself.” Zeke’s knees weakened as he was struck with blow after blow of veracity. Small blotches hindered Naña’s vision, yet she revealed no weakness. She closed her eyes and inhaled high and deep. “And despite all of this, Mayatte always offers forgiveness and extends a means of absolution.” Zeke quivered from the thunder of a booming hollow drum. He turned his head, seeking out the source of the loud rhythmic beating. As he scanned the island, he couldn’t help but notice that the entire skyline was flooded with military-grade helicopters. He sunk even further within himself, refusing to even look in Naña’s direction. Without hesitating or looking back, he burst into a full sprint towards the helicopters. “Where are you going? Do not be foolish!” Naña crumbled, groveling in pain. What’s happening to me? She leaned against the base of a whispering tree, propping herself to her feet. She attempted to give pursuit to Zeke, but both femurs fractured with her initial step, crumbling her body to the island floor. She hollered out in agony. I can’t just lay here. Get up, Naña! All this has happened because of me. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Spindrifts
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: Fania’s Journal: An excerpt from Spindrifts by A-M Mawhiney © 2021 I’m supposed to write in my journal every day. Sure. Like that’s the best use of my time. They said it’d be a private place to think, but I’ve wondered about that. I can think in my head without writing my thoughts. Just in case, I always use my disconnected tablet for the real journal, encrypted with three protective codes and in a language I developed myself. I know this might be over the top, but I’ve felt better knowing no one can read my actual journal. So, people can read how excited I am about my apprenticeship, but privately I’m totally dissed. I really want to learn about people From Away, and instead I’m apprenticing with Granny, my great-grandmother, who’s spent most of her life close to home in her research laboratory, two miles down an ancient mine shaft. It used to be where they studied mysteries of the universe! How the heck did that work? I’ve always loved Granny. I’ve felt as though we’ve had a special relationship, and I’ve missed spending time with her. I just never thought they’d give me a responsibility so far removed from what I really want to be doing. Ezma told me I’ve many skills and a strong aptitude for analytical thinking. I know what that means. It means sitting in an underground lab every day for the rest of my life. I guess I wasn’t very good at hiding my feelings because Ezma felt she had to remind me what Granny does is very important. Then she asked me a curious question. “Do you know what she does?” Well, of course I do! I explained, “Granny is the researcher who found the serum. She said it was a fluke.” That comment made Ezma laugh, hysterically almost. “Well, Fania, you’ll find there’s a lot you can learn from Alicia. I hope you’ll keep an open mind.” When I boarded the transport to head home after two years at Immersion, my patch reminded me to change my timer back to the village’s schedule. The health patch is a misnomer; it’s actually an up-to-date example of bio-merged nanotechnology. This latest gen’s so far advanced compared to the primitive models my grandparents used when they were young—those things they wore on their wrists. Now the healer implants the technology at birth where it merges with our brainwaves. It has reciprocal transformational capabilities, but I’ve been told there are limitations so it can’t change the basic personality or natural abilities of anyone. The patch transmits and receives communications, monitors personal health data, and provides all my reading materials. Everyone in our territory has them, so far as I know. 
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by: #Book Blitz #Hunted by V.M. Nelson (The Dhampyr Series, 1) #YA #Paranormal @Xpresso Book Tours21/11/2022
Hunted
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- SNEAK PEEK: What started out as a routine task to find blood turned into an onslaught of pain. I rubbed my eyes, allowing the darkness that filled my head to fizzle away. My hands, tender from scraping against the gravel, grasped at the cold metal fence. I flinched as my cuts burned against the steel. I’d done this to myself. The thumping under my skin and my lack of balance were all a result of ignoring my need to feed. Now here I sat, watching my blood as it dripped down my leg and pooled onto the sidewalk. A tingling sensation ran through me as I flicked out the tiny shards that had embedded themselves in my skin. My body helped to push them out in an effort to heal itself. This was not part of tonight’s plan. I stared back up at the fence—my nemesis. Razor-sharp wire wrapped itself around the top of the rusty, twelve-foot-high chain-link barricade. Take the shortcut, Tasi. It’ll be quicker and safer, Tasi. What a stupid idea. Under normal circumstances, I could dart up the fence, hop over the barbed wire, and gracefully land on my feet. My overall dexterity might have won me a gold medal in gymnastics, but that was so not happening in my current condition. An ache thundered through my body as I reached for the fence again. I hoisted myself up for the first time since tumbling off. With one last labored breath, I ran my hands down my pants, dislodging the remaining rocks from my newly healed skin. Nearby, a rustling sound echoed through the alley. My breath caught. The metal garbage cans clanked together as if they were being tossed around. If I were human, I wouldn’t think twice about the commotion. Lucky for me, I knew better. It was probably setting up to kill its next victim. There were a few shady-looking dive bars and run-down nightclubs in this area. The repetitive pounding of music stemming from different directions would drown out all screams. This was a perfect feeding ground. Over the past few months, these creatures had become my reality. Since I was thirteen, I’d known of their existence, but only recently had I been in the same vicinity as them. And when they were around, you didn’t want to be, so it was time to go. With a quick pivot in the opposite direction, I ran. I didn’t get farther than a few feet before my shoelace caught in the grate and my chin scraped against the ground. More blood dripped from my body. Tasi, seriously—what else can go wrong? Wrapping the shoelace around my fingers, I yanked until it released itself. By the time I tucked it into my shoe, it was too late. It had heard me. The pounding in my ears was no longer from the nightclubs but the pavement, and it was getting louder. I’d piqued its interest. Rather, my blood had piqued its interest. 
GIVEAWAY! -- |
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Photos from Simon_sees, Dmitry Karyshev
