Monday, March 30, 2015

Read an excerpt from 'An Event to Remember...Or Forget' by Melissa Baldwin

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event to remember

An Event to Remember...Or Forget

Sienna Harris is a girl with a plan. Her days of slaving away at Carrie’s Classic Events and More are numbered as she is on the brink of launching her own event planning company. Her relationship with Luke Price is headed in the right direction and they are approaching their one-year mark. The future is looking bright and she knows that life could not get any better . . . That is until her perfectly planned world is thrown upside down by the unexpected arrival of someone from Luke’s past.

She receives the shock of her life on the night of the biggest event of her career. Sienna will now have to pull it all together without a list or a plan. The question is, can she do it?

Read an excerpt:
The waiting area is full of big, cushy love seats, and the décor is very Mediterranean with rich shades of gold, red, and brown. It is so warm and inviting. I have to text Madison, so I tell Luke I need to use the restroom and check my makeup. I’m sure he knows I’m lying, but who cares.

There is a very sweet attendant handing out hot hand towels in the restroom, which is probably the size of my apartment. It has so many products that it could very well be a beauty supply store.

I pull out my phone to text Madison.

BEST PLACE EVER! 
I put my phone back in my Tory Burch clutch purse (a small splurge, but I bought it at the outlets), check my makeup and hair, and head back to Luke.

As I am walking back to him, I notice that he is talking to someone. His body language says it all; he does not like this person. I walk up and stand beside him to see who this person is.

I think my heart stops beating for a minute.

I look up to see the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life; he smiles at me and his eyes actually sparkle. I am NOT KIDDING! I feel like I have landed in a Disney movie.  
“Luke, who is this beautiful woman standing here?” he asks with the hottest Australian accent I have ever heard. “Good for you, mate!” 
“Hello, I am Ace Eckelund. I am Luke’s mate from our summer of soccer in Europe. I am sure he has mentioned me?”

How do I answer this?

“Um, yes he has briefly. I am Sienna, Luke’s . . . girlfriend.”  
Why did I just hesitate? I am on an anniversary date with my boyfriend. “It’s nice to meet you.” I reach out to shake his hand, and I swear my stomach does a backflip.

Buy on 

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 *********************

Just released!!


wedding hatersWedding Haters

The exquisite dress, the dazzling menu, the family drama . . . It’s the day every girl dreams of, and Madison Wales is no exception. Her wedding plans seem to be going perfectly thanks to her very talented wedding planner, Sienna Harris. That is, until her grandmother and her two overachieving, bullying cousins suddenly want to become very involved in her big day. But . . . why?

Madison’s perfect wedding dreams are dashed as things slowly start to unravel. With family drama in her midst, she wonders if her cousins are behind each disaster or if she has truly become a paranoid bridezilla.

Will Madison be able to withstand all of the pressure and finally stand up for herself? The idea of eloping with her fiancé, Cole, is looking better everyday, even if it means leaving her dream wedding behind. Will she make the right choice?

Buy now on Amazon

About the author:
melissa baldwinMelissa graduated from the University of Central Florida with a Bachelor’s Degree in Communications; she has always had a love for writing. An avid journal keeper, she fulfilled her dream with her debut novel, An Event To Remember . . . Or Forget.

Melissa resides in Orlando, Florida, with her husband and young daughter. She is a master at organization and multi-tasking. Her daily jobs include mother, chauffeur, wife, PTA President, Fitness Trainer, and now Author.

When she has free time, she enjoys traveling, fitness, decorating, fashion, and taking a Disney Cruise every now and then.

Find Melissa on:
Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest


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Introduction to the Shisa by Pauline Creeden, author of 'Survivor'

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Introduction to the Shisa:

(Revelation 9:3-9) Then out of the smoke locusts came upon the earth. And to them was given power, as the scorpions of the earth have power. They were commanded not to harm the grass of the earth, or any green thing, or any tree, but only those men who do not have the seal of God on their foreheads. And they were not given authority to kill them, but to torment them for five months. Their torment was like the torment of a scorpion when it strikes a man. In those days men will seek death and will not find it; they will desire to die, and death will flee from them. The shape of the locusts was like horses prepared for battle. On their heads were crowns of something like gold, and their faces were like the faces of men. They had hair like women’s hair, and their teeth were like lions’ teeth. And they had breastplates like breastplates of iron, and the sound of their wings was like the sound of chariots with many horses running into battle.


When I first read this description in Revelation of the locusts from the bottomless pit, my mind was immediately drawn to the Shisa or Fu-Dog statues that I’d seen all the time growing up. Several Asian cultures have them, and they are considered to be wards of a house to keep out the bad and keep in the good. Gargoyles in general tend to have made a presence in architecture for centuries.

So what if it’s all prophetic?

People often get glimpses of things that belong only in the spiritual realm, so in my mind, I wondered if all these little statues, which don’t seem to have basis in a real creature that existed in the past, could be glimpses of the future. Taking that idea and the scripture in Revelation, I imagined a creature that would torment and bite humans, causing them pain and a state where they cannot find death (zombie-like). And because the Shisa have breastplates like iron, they would be nearly indestructible. Then came the best part: the warning buzz which would strike terror in all who knew they were coming.

Taking an element from one of my favorite TV shows, Falling Skies, I made the aliens more believable by making them familiar, and slowly adding the other elements described in Revelation, as well…such as the scorpion tail. In the Sanctuary End Times Series, the Shisa are both demons and aliens, making their impact more dramatic and realistic for many readers.



survivorSurvivor


*Novella companion to Sanctuary

B What if the Biblical End Times unfolded in a way no one told you about and the rapture didn’t happen before the tribulation began…

Aliens have attacked and Rory’s mother is missing, but none of that matters much to him. He’s safe in his apartment complex, has his friends and his twin sister, Hailey. But as supplies start to dwindle, it becomes obvious that he needs to do something to make sure they all survive…even if it means he has to brave going outside through the Shisa and the zombies people have become. As long as they are safe, that’s all that matters, right?



Start the series with award winning Sanctuary

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Left Behind for the Hunger Games Generation

In a heart-racing thriller described as Falling Skies meets The Walking Dead, Jennie struggles to find a safe place for what s left of her family. But it seems as though there is no place sacred, no place secure. First the aliens attacked the sun, making it dimmer, weaker, and half what it used to be. Then they attacked the water supply, killing one-third of Earth s population with a bitter contaminate. And when they unleash a new terror on humankind, the victims will wish for death, but will not find it…

When the world shatters to pieces around her, will Jennie find the strength she needs to keep going?


Watch Sanctuary's Book Trailer

 

Sanctuary crosses boundaries and borders and incorporates elements of all kinds of action and intrigue, from thriller-like adventure to a post-apocalyptic tale of life after aliens invade. Thus it will delight readers seeking something truly different, while disappointing those who anticipated a shallow, one-dimensional subject and story line.”

 

Pauline CreedenPauline Creeden

Pauline Creeden is a horse trainer from Virginia, but writing is her therapy. In her fiction, she creates worlds that are both familiar and strange, often pulling the veil between dimensions. She becomes the main character in each of her stories, and because she has ADD, she will get bored if she pretends to be one person for too long.

Follow Pauline Creeden: 

Stephen Whitfield, author of 'Omari and the People,' shares his five favorite authors


Five Favorite Authors

1. Patrick O'Brian, who wrote the twenty complete novels in the Aubrey-Maturin series. 

2. C.S. Forrester, who wrote the Hornblower series (which inspired Patrick O'Brian).

3. Elmore Leonard, both his crime novels and westerns. I love his use of casual dialogue.

4. Mark Helprin, whose descriptions go to the soul of a thing.

5. Ishmael Reed, whose pyrotechnical grace makes reading a psychedelic experience.

Omari and the People

Action/Adventure - Historical Adventure
Date Published
- October 2014

Blurb:

In an ancient time, a people made homeless by a devastating fire are led across a treacherous desert by a thrill-seeking thief, to a land he doesn't believe exists - and he started the fire.

In a squalid ancient city on the edge of a desert (based on descriptions of the African Sahara’s Empty Quarter,) a weary, thrill-seeking thief named Omari sets his home on fire to start anew and cover his many crimes. When the entire city is unintentionally destroyed by the flames, the cornered thief tells the displaced people a lie about a better place to which only he can lead them, across the desert. With the help of an aged, mysterious woman who knows a better place actually does exist, they set out. The disparate people must come together to fight their way through bandits, storms, epidemics, and more. As a result of Omari's involvement with Saba, a fiercely independent woman who is out to break him in the pay of a merchant whom he has offended, his ability to lead - his very life - is jeopardized.

Read an excerpt:
As was his way, bin Aswad took no part in the celebration, and actually enjoyed his time alone as everyone else danced, sang and ate. Indeed, he had always found great pleasure in his love of numbers – calculating expenses, inventories and ultimately, profits. Despite Omari’s warnings about making money from the needs of others, bin Aswad had found it profitable to provide specialty clothing for those who could afford it. He found that some people paid well for themselves and or their family to look good in new clothing, and he was very clever in the re-use of old clothes to make new garments, as his cloth supply dwindled. Instead of being rich in coin, he now had more than his share of food, water, tools and other valuables.

He was happily humming a tuneless melody while he sat counting a number of small gems, when his tent flap flew open. A stunning young woman moved in quickly and stood over him. Astonished, he scrambled backwards with his eyes and mouth wide open, spilling the gems onto the tent floor.

“Ho, bin Aswad. Easy,” said the woman in a husky voice, and a bright smile that revealed white, even teeth. “I wish you no harm.” She raised her palms to calm his fright and sat down. “In fact, I believe I might be of some service to you. My name is Saba Khan. Did you drop something?”

No longer terrified, bin Aswad was still too surprised and embarrassed to form any reply, except to start picking up his gems while glancing up at the stranger. At first glance, Saba Khan possessed what might be called an extraordinary beauty – enough to turn heads, and very pleasing to the eye. In bin Aswad’s lamplight, her complexion was a satiny smooth, golden brown that seemed to blend into the darkness. Her finely sculpted face framed dark amber, almond-shaped eyes, which made him pause. For the brief moment he held her gaze, he was so struck by their sheer intensity, intelligence and perceptiveness that he stopped picking up his gems. His attitude changed to awe and he was willing, even eager to hear what she had to say.

“How do you know my name?” he mumbled, too awestruck to ask all the questions in his mind.

“You are well-known, bin Aswad. You have many customers—people you talk to and trade with. Some of the things you receive in trade are precious gems, such as that one you missed, just there.” She pointed a slender finger at a ruby behind him.

“That gets people’s attention. Some of the things you’ve said are bound to get even more attention – such as the fact that you are unhappy with Master Omari’s leadership.” She leaned forward and opened her eyes wide. “Allow me to offer you some free advice – trade your gems away and keep your opinions to yourself.”

Bin Aswad noticed the hilt of a dagger in her waistband. As the idea of danger began to form in his mind, beads of sweat broke out on his upper lip. “That’s some strong advice,” he said, in an effort to sound self-assured. “What do you have to do with my opinions or my gems?”

Saba Khan chuckled. “I’m not here to harm you, bin Aswad. I’m here to suggest that I might be able to help you solve your problem with Master Omari…for the cost of some of your gems.” She raised her brow and tilted her head to the side. “Are you interested in seeing someone else in charge of the caravan? Someone more sensitive to your business interests?”

He frowned and leaned forward. “And how would you…”

“You don’t need to know that,” she said. “All you need to know is if you pay my price, your satisfaction is guaranteed.”

He stared at the woman in amazement. “What do you do? Are you some kind of killer? I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“I make things happen,” she replied. “And don’t worry; you don’t have enough gems for anyone to be killed. Not even that great blue jewel you have hidden in your robe.”

Bin Aswad’s eyes widened again. “You know about the jewel?”

“That is why I’m here,” she said in a low voice. “Remember my first advice? You’re not going to be able to hang onto such a stone much longer anyway. Too many people know about it. Right now, all you have to do is say ‘yes’ to the deal. If you do, I will give you more details later. Of course, whether you agree or not, I must refer you back to the second advice – keep your business to yourself. Now, do we have a deal?” She leaned forward and smiled as if she knew the answer.

Buy links

About Stephen Whitfield

Chicago-born Stephen Whitfield began writing as a Marine Corps print journalist. His writing has appeared in military publications, as well as the Kansas City Star and the Jersey Journal. He holds degrees from from Loyola University Chicago, Chicago Theological Seminary, and Indiana University. Stephen currently resides near Orlando, Florida.


Website: http://www.shirleycastle.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/OmariAndThePeople

Twitter: https://twitter.com/xhosa60

BookBuzz: http://bookbuzz.net/blog/actionadventure-omari-and-the-people/

'Hometown Girls' by Tressa Messenger

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hometown girlLife for Marissa Lou was great. She was a popular senior in high school with great friends and an even greater boyfriend. She was on top of the world. That was until she made the greatest sacrifice of her life.

Daniel and Katie both loved Marissa Lou but neither of them could deny the intensity of their growing affection for one another, no matter how hard they tried to fight it.

Being the selfless person she was, Marissa Lou gave Katie and Daniel her permission to date. Little did she know it would be the first day of a hellish nightmare. One where, in her depression, she falls from grace and gets mixed up in a life she never would have expected.

With a growing addiction she fights to right everything that went so wrong, but will it be too late?

Buy on 
Amazon | Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing

About the author:

tressa-2Tressa Messenger grew up in a very small town in Eastern North Carolina called Reelsboro in a coastal county called Pamlico. Being as it was such a small area Tressa developed an immense imagination at a young age. That is where she harnessed her love for writing. To date Tressa lives in New Orleans Louisiana with her husband, daughter and an assortment of critters.

As a young writer Tressa has overcome adversity of Dyslexia and continues to exceed expectations.


Follow Tressa: 

FaceBook | Twitter | Website



The author is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card in celebration of the new release! Giveaway ends April 12th at 11:59 EST. Open World Wide. 

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Saturday, March 28, 2015

'Married to the War' by Marica Love


Blurb:

Her journey, her love, her loyalty. A young Aussie meets the love of her life, a young Croatian man she connects with while she is on a holiday in the former Yugoslavia. A man she'd later become engaged to. Their love suffered its first hurdle when he went into the military while she returned to her homeland, only later on to not be denied when she goes to Croatia to be with him. But their greatest test was yet to come... war had come to the European region 1 year after she had arrived to be with her one true love. Can the bonds of love, and later family, survive the trials of inner-turmoil and spiritual struggle that only war can spawn? This is the story, of Marica Love.

Buy links


About the author:

Marica Love's passion for humanity, music, creativity, and living an abundant life is rivalled only by her love of children; motherhood is the root of her greatest successes. 

Born and raised in Australia, Marica is the eldest of four siblings. She moved to Europe at the age of eighteen and stayed until the end of the Croatian War of Independence in 1995. Marica's personal journey is candidly chronicled in her new book, Married to the War, the first in a series. 

Once hailed by a newspaper photographer as "Nice, friendly, flamboyant and savvy", Marica embraces those accolades and flourishes in every role she undertakes. She was the station manager, a member of the board of directors, on on-air presenter and program manager with WOWfm 100.7 for five years and was the producer of her television show 'Unsigned & Inspiring' on CH31 in Sydney. Music serves as an endless source of motivation and inspiration to her. As the owner of The Cake Pop Emporium Pty Ltd in 2013, she had the honour of serving political dignitaries, the Former Prime Minister Julia Gillard and MP David Bradbury in her store.

Marica is not influenced by other's opinions and expectations. When the calling came to start over in life again, she embraced the opportunity. She is guided from within and will continue to bring her ideas to life with the influence of God and her Angels. A strong will, tenacity and compassion are virtues which enabled her to begin again and she is thriving.

She currently lives in Sydney with her beloved pup, Ellie Mae. When not writing or furthering her skills, Marica enjoys hanging out with her adult children, traveling, the beach, cooking, movies and pampering sessions. 

While she continuously grows as an individual, passing on the gift of creativity and self-discovery is important to her.
Please visit her Facebook Fan Page - 'Marica Love' for news and updates.

'Family Secrets' by Donna M. Jadunajsky


Inspiration to my writing:

Besides the many authors I adore and love to read. My family and friends are my inspiration for writing. Though, there is a huge part of me that is my own inspiration. I push myself to try harder and to do better. That’s a part of writing; you keep writing every chance you can, and you’ll achieve those goals and be a great writer.

Women's Drama / Suspense / Mystery
Date Published
: December 2014

Alexis has had big dreams all her life, and she’s worked hard to make them happen! After college she married and had a beautiful baby boy, living her dream as “Mommy” until Colton was safely entrenched in grade school. She lands her dream job at NASA, and her supportive husband, Jay, takes the lead on raising their son. The perfect family, right?

Twelve years later with no warning and no reason, Jay commits suicide. Colton goes into denial and blames his mother; Alexis buries herself in her work.

Seven months later, Alexis’s biggest dream comes true. She’s going to be on the next space shuttle! Her victory is short-lived when she finds out she has breast cancer. As her health declines, Colton delves into the dangerous circumstances of his father’s death.

“Family Secrets” crept into Alexis’s life when she wasn’t paying attention. Will she and her son ever find out the truth? Or is it too late?

Read an excerpt:
Alexis drove out of the parking lot and headed towards the Martin Andersen Beachline Express. When she arrived at Cape Canaveral, she drove to Canaveral City Park. There she sat and stared at the Atlantis Space Shuttle in the far distance. Imagining the day she would climb inside one just like it and soar through the sky towards the unknown; to a whole new universe where she didn’t have to think about her life and everything that had gone wrong.

Now, it would take years before she received another chance. IF—and it was a very big “IF”—she ever received another chance. That is, IF she could beat breast cancer. This opportunity was something she wasn’t sure she could pass up. Her health was important to her, but so was her job, and if her boss found out, there would be no flying into outer space.

Reclining her seat back, she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, trying to calm down enough to ease the tension headache. Her thoughts involuntarily went to her late husband, and she wished Jay could be with her. Jay would’ve known what to do. He could always comfort her in a way no man had ever done before or since. He was thoughtful and kind, always putting her needs above his own. God, how she wished he was here with her now!

There was never a day she didn’t think of him and miss him. She asked herself as she did all the time, “Why did he have to die?” Then, she wondered how she had been able to cope with his death. Of course, she had continued to mourn, but she really couldn’t remember how she’d got through the loss and pain of losing someone so close to her.

After the funeral seven months ago, she’d concentrated on raising their seventeen-year-old son, Colton, but she’d jumped straight back into her work. She wasn’t thankful Jay had died when he did. She’d been glad at the time that Colton was almost old enough to take care of himself, but she wasn’t sure if he grieved the way she did. So many nights of lying in bed crying herself to sleep; then one day she climbed out of bed and moved on with her life as if nothing had ever happened

Buy links


About Donna M. Zadunajsky

Donna M. Zadunajsky was born and raised in Bristolville, Ohio, and resides in Homer Glen, Illinois. She has written seven children’s books that are about her daughter and all the adventures she has done in her young life. They are currently on the Barnes and Noble website, at Amazon.com, and at www.littletscorner.com. Available in eBook and paperback.

She spends her time writing short stories as well as novels. She published her first novel ‘Broken Promises,’ in June 2012 and has currently finished her second novel ‘Not Forgotten.’ Besides writing, she enjoys spending time with her daughter and husband, their dog and two cats. She enjoys reading and working on crafts and scrapbooking. She graduated from The Institute of Children’s Literature in spring 2011.

Website: http://www.donnazadunajskymalacina.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/donnamzadunajsky

Twitter: http://twitter.com/72Zadunajsky

Friday, March 27, 2015

A Day in Stephanie Erickson's Writing Life and excerpt from 'The Dead Room (Vol. 1)'



A Day in Your Writing Life

Well, my writing days are all different, as much as I like routine and structure. I have a toddler, and am a stay at home mom. My husband is a pilot so when he’s working, I’m on 24/7. I also have a part time job as a graphic designer, so my days are full, that’s for sure. But, they go something like this.

When I’m behind, I get up early and work before my daughter wakes up. Those are usually writing days. So I try to catch up on words I should’ve written the day before, or maybe get ahead if I have a busy day full of nap time meetings scheduled.

8 am to 1 pm is my daughter’s. There’s no work that happens during this time. None. We play, we go to music class, or the library, whatever. It’s about her.

1 pm to 3 pm is nap time, so it’s mine, all mine! Most days I have a short graphics meeting, then I can start writing. At this stage, I have two books that I’m juggling. So, at any given point, one is in the writing or outlining phase, and the other is in the editing phase.

For example, today I’m working on outlining The Dead World, and Unforgiven is with the editor. I want to start writing TDW this week! So, during naptime, I work on tweaking the outline, setting scenes in my mind, as well as learning about the characters and who they are.

Then 3 pm to 8 pm is back to my daughter. After her bedtime I work anywhere from 2 to 4 hours if I’m really behind. That doesn’t happen too often though. Some days I have a lot of administrative stuff to do, like writing guest posts (haha), keeping up with social media, responding to comments on the Web site, and stuff like that. Some days I can just write and those are my favorite! After all, that is why I got into this business.

On days when I can get into bed by 10, I like to read for a bit. Right now, I’m slowly working on Sea of Stars, by Amy Bartol and LOVING it! It’s totally amazing.

So, it doesn’t sound like much, but that’s my day. Somehow, it adds up to 4 books so far, with three more planned this year! And I love it!



Post Apocalyptic 
Date Published: March 11, 2015

322 years after the apocalypse, the world has changed, but her people have not. Secrets, lies, and manipulations endure among a small group of survivors taking refuge on an island in the Northern Pacific.

No one knows what claimed so many lives over three centuries ago, and no one asks, except Ashley Wortham. She can feel the secrets all around her, begging to be uncovered.

But the nine elders who govern the island guard their secrets jealously. They believe the islanders know what they need to, and they hide their secrets behind a ruse of peace. But when Ashley, and her best friend Mason, go down the rabbit hole, no one is prepared for truths they uncover. What will they do when they discover the downfall of humanity lies within their own island, deep inside the dead room?

Read an excerpt:

The body lay on a two-piece metal pyre in the center of the clearing.
Nothing more than the skeleton of a table, the pyre was simply used for the display and transport of the bodies. Burning the dead was a custom from the time before.

The corpse’s blue cotton, long-sleeved shirt was buttoned all the way to
the top to hide his injuries, and the matching navy slacks had recently been pressed.


With his hands folded over his abdomen, Wesley looked rather dashing. Ashley wished her match had actually been dashing in life.

She wondered who would wear that outfit next. Nothing was ever wasted on the island. Not even the clothes of a dead man. She herself had worn the clothes off a dead woman’s back. Squeamishness was a luxury no one could afford.

Although “new” clothes were made on the island, from animal skins and the cotton grown in the farmlands, they were typically reserved for the higher ups—elders, doctors, and the like. Cotton was difficult to grow in the cold climate, and the clothes were made entirely by hand. Once it had been worn and patched a few times by those with power, new clothing was eventually passed down to the lower branches of society,

But, it wasn’t just clothing that moved on after an islander died. All of
their belongings were redistributed among those in need. The dead’s family wasn’t allowed to keep anything they didn’t need. Sentimentality was a lost emotion to the islanders. Reusing everything was essential, even if the previous owner was a dead man.

It had only bothered her once—the first time she’d seen one of her
father’s outfits on another man. Even then, at the tender age of ten, she’d understood it was bound to happen eventually. She just hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly. Only a week after his funeral, she’d spotted one of her neighbors walking down the road in her father’s clothes. She ran to him, hoping her father’s scent might still linger on his shirt. But the man neither embraced her nor offered her any sympathy. He 
only looked at her with wide eyes,the horror and disgust plain on his face.


Death on the island was such a strange thing. She’d lost track of how many
funerals she’d been to in her lifetime—at least one a month. Unexpected deaths, like that of her match, added to the average.

Only three of the losses had actually meant something to her—her mother,
her father, and now Wesley. Her father’s funeral was, of course, devastating, made more so by the fact that they’d shared the same first name. Everything the elders said about him could have also been applied to her. How they were thankful for “Ashley’s life,” how they wished “Ashley peace.”It sent shivers down her spine.

Once, she’d asked him why they shared a name. His mother’s name had been Ashley, he’d explained, as had her mother, and her father before that. On and on, down the line, the name had traveled, until it had reached Ashley. And one day, as was their tradition, it would go to her own child.

The funeral for her mother, who had been taken by a simple cold that
escalated into something much worse, was nothing more than a hazy memory. Still, Ashley missed her mother terribly and felt incomplete without her. She searched for her whenever the jasmine got caught on the wind, because her mother had loved to wear the flower behind her ear.

Wesley’s funeral was a problem. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt
about it. The loss of her parents had left her feeling completely alone. She’d hoped to find love again with her match, but he’d left her terribly disappointed.

Now that he was gone, her emotions warred with themselves. Relief was the
biggest player fighting for space in her mind. Relief to have escaped the abuse and the pressures of being the next elder’s wife. Guilt came in at a close second, but not because she regretted killing her match.

It was because her best friend was being blamed for it.


http://amzn.to/1BtBZAK

About Stephanie Erickson

Stephanie Erickson has always had a passion for the written word. She pursued her love of literature at Flagler College, in St. Augustine, FL, where she graduated with a BA in English. She has received several honors in her writing career, including recognition in the 72nd Annual Writer's Digest Competition.

After graduation, she married and followed her husband in pursuit of his dream. The Cure and The Blackout were written to reignite Stephanie's passion, when she found the time. Now that he is settled in his career, it's her turn to devote more time and energy into writing.

Stephanie currently has 4 projects planned for 2015. Her latest release, The Dead Room, is a post apocalyptic set on a lonely island 300 years in the future.
Stephanie, of course, loves to read and write. She also enjoys living on the beach on the Florida's Treasure Coast. Most of all, she and her husband are in love with their baby girl.

Website: www.stephanieericksonbooks.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stephmerickson

Twitter: https://twitter.com/sm_erickson

Blog: http://www.stephanieericksonbooks.com/blog/

Newsletter signup: http://www.stephanieericksonbooks.com/thanks-for-reading/

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Review of 'Finding Fisher' by Dakota Madison


Finding Fisher

New Adult Contemporary Romance
Date Published:
March 2. 2015

Blurb:

Finding Fisher is a short novel about love, lies, loyalty and what it means to be truly alive.

Franklin Smith was the perfect fiancé. He was at the top of our class at Stanford and had been recently accepted to Harvard Law. But Spring Break our senior year of college changed everything. He went back home to New Jersey and never returned. At his funeral I discovered a guy I never knew. His secret past. And a twin brother, Fisher, I didn’t know existed.

Author’s Note: When I learned about the tragic death of cover model Josh Nicholson and saw the wonderful photos that Eric McKinney of 6:12 Photography had taken of Josh I just knew I had to write a book in his memory. This is the novel that Joshua Scott Nicholson inspired.

A portion of the profits from the cover and book sales will be donated to Joining Hearts, Inc., a 501(c)(3), all-volunteer, non-profit organization dedicated to providing housing support to people living with HIV and AIDS in Atlanta, in memory of Josh.


Read an excerpt:

I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face when I see a run-down double-wide at the end of the driveway. The house, if you can call it that, has definitely seen better days. And those days weren’t in this century. The place is surrounded by old trucks in various states of disrepair along with piles of engine parts everywhere.

After I park the little Hyundai I hop out and stretch my long legs. I normally don’t do well in compacts, even with the seat back as far as it will go. This car is no exception.

As I look around for signs of life all I see are a few mangy-looking stray cats milling about, no doubt searching for rats or other varmints who will serve as their next meals.

Then I hear the faint sound of tapping. Followed by an “Oh, No!”

I guess it’s not just me and the cats here. I head toward the area from where the exclamation emanated.

An old truck that looks like it hasn’t been driven since the 1950s is behind another truck maybe from the 1970s.

There’s a man with the entire top half of his body underneath the hood of the older truck, obviously trying to fix it. All that’s visible as I approach is his bottom half, in tight-fitting Denim and black work boots.

I clear my throat, hoping to get his attention, but I get a rather annoyed “Just a minute” instead.

After sixty-two seconds pass I clear my throat again. “It’s been over a minute. Sixty-three seconds to be exact.”

He laughs. One that sounds familiar. Too familiar. His laugh sounds just like Franklin’s. A shiver runs through my entire body in response.

When he extricates himself from the hood of the car and turns toward me my knees buckle and I nearly faint.

The man grabs me just before I hit the dirt. Once he has me upright I notice that the brand new white silk shirt I’m wearing is now covered in grease.

“This can’t be happening,” I utter as I try to remember if grease can be removed from silk.

I quickly remove my stash of sanitizer wipes from my pocketbook and get to work trying to remove some of the grease from my shirt.

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” the man says.


He looks just like Franklin, but a disgustingly filthy version of my fiancé. 
Every inch of the guy is covered in grease and dirt. It’s like my worst nightmare come to life.

One of the few things I hate more than being disorganized is being dirty. I will do almost anything to avoid becoming soiled in any way.

The guy’s eyes search mine as if he’s trying to figure out what I’m doing standing in front of his old truck in the middle of nowhere New Jersey.

“Here,” I say as I hand him two of my sanitizer wipes to clean his grimy hands.

“That’s not going to work either.”

I hand him one additional wipe. “Better?”

He shakes his head. “Not really. I have special grease remover in the house. My hands are never completely clean, but I’m used to it. I’ve been a mechanic all my life.”

“Your voice,” I mutter. “You sound just like him. You look like him too. It’s unbelievable.”

“Like who?”

“Franklin.”

“I should. He’s—um—was—my twin brother.”

I feel my stomach start to knot. “He told me he was an only child.”

The guy lets out a cynical laugh. “I’m not surprised. When he left Old Town he left all of us behind. A hot shot lawyer and fancy politician doesn’t need a twin brother whose a mechanic hanging around his neck. Better not to have a brother at all, I suppose.”

“He really is gone?” My voice cracks again. It’s starting to get annoying.

“He was gone a long time ago. When he left for Stanford he didn’t look back. But he is dead, if that’s what you mean.”

His face looks pained. Grubby and wounded.

As it finally starts to sink in that Franklin, my Franklin, really is gone. I can feel my entire body start to shake. And before I know what’s hit me I’m crying.

Me, Chloe Woodford, the girl who never shows any emotion, is blubbering like a child. “I just—don’t—understand—it,” I say between snivels.

“What?” Franklin’s brother whispers.

“Any of it.”

“Can you tell me what you’re going here?”

I hold up my left hand, hoping he’ll take note of the 1.2 carat diamond engagement ring that Franklin bought me.

“Nice rock. So you’re rich. I figured that out before you flashed the bling. But it still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”

“Franklin is—um—was my fiancé.” I try to speak with as much dignity as I can muster, but the words still feel like they’re getting caught in my throat.

When he slams the hood of the truck closed I nearly jump out of my skin. I’m raw and on edge and the loud noise sends me reeling.

“I should have known.” He waves a hand up and down my body. “You fit every requirement he could ever want in a trophy wife. A tall, beautiful blonde. Model thin, but still has a nice rake. Your family obviously has money. And you go to Stanford, right? So you’re not dumb. You’re the perfect package. You would have made the ideal politician’s wife.”

“You’re not a very nice person,” is nearly all I can manage to say. “I lost my fiancé.”

“And I lost my twin brother. So what’s your point? There’s no law that says I have to be nice.”

 I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like Franklin’s brother. I really don’t want to be around him and his filth, but I’m not sure I have any other options. I need answers and at least he’s giving me some, even if I don’t like the message or the messenger.

My mother is a shark is sheep’s clothing. And she always told me you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar. That might be a cliché, but I’ve always found it to be true. I decide to up the charm a few notches to see if I can entice Franklin’s brother to tell me more.

“So you’re a mechanic?” I bat my big blue eyes at him. “Do you work at a garage?”

“This is it.” He motions around the yard, which looks more like a junkyard. “I’m a mobile mechanic.”

“I’ve never heard of that.”

He removes a business card from the front pocket of his jeans and hands it to me. I try to grab it in such a way that I don’t have to touch the grease stained finger prints all over the outer edge.

“Are you afraid of getting dirty?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“You seem to have an aversion to it.”

“I don’t like it. I wouldn’t say I’m afraid of it.”

I examine the card: Fisher Smith, Mobile Mechanic and then a phone number.

“I’m Chloe Woodford, by the way, in case you’re interested.”

He just nods. And doesn’t really give me a clue whether he’s interested in knowing anything about me or not. But I soldier on because there are a lot of things I still want to know about Franklin. And in order for me to get the information I want I need to try to warm Mr. Iceman up a little bit.

“So do you drive around and fix people’s cars?”

He laughs. “That’s a small part of my business. The local sheriff is a buddy of mine. He refers anyone who breaks down on the side of the road. I work with local farmers, who need help with old trucks or even tractors or farm equipment. I also work on dirt bikes, race bikes, ATVs. If it has an engine I can fix it.”

Holding up the card I ask, “How’d you get the name Fisher?”

“My dad loved to fish. It was one of his favorite pastimes.”

“He doesn’t fish anymore?”

He shakes his head. “He died when Franklin and I were twelve. I guess he never told you that either.”

“Nope. How did he die? He must have been pretty young.” As soon as I ask the question I immediately regret it. Especially when I see the look on Fisher’s face.

“Shot gun suicide.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just…”

“Franklin didn’t tell you much, did he?”

I let out a single, cold laugh. “He told me a lot. I’m just realizing that most of it wasn’t true. Your dad didn’t work on Wall Street either, did he?”

Now Fisher is the one who laughs. “Is that what he told you? Dad was a mechanic. Taught me everything I know.” 


**My thoughts**

I really like the sentiment behind this book and the story idea. I can't imagine losing a fiance, let alone finding out that our entire lives together have been a lie. The betrayal that Chloe must be feeling deep inside is horrible. I also cannot fathom her confusion when confronted with an identical twin, who looks and sounds just like the love of her life, but has a completely opposite personality. The idea makes my head swim.

From what we learn about Franklin throughout the story, I have to say that I am not a fan of his. His lies and deceit hurt so many people and he was extremely selfish. He was lucky to have a woman like Chloe. His loved ones definitely mourned him, but more the man he had been once upon a time, not the man he had become.

Fisher is amazing. He is rough and rugged, yet soft and loving. He may not have book smarts, but he is intelligent and hardworking. He is also truthful and faithful, which are two extremely important attributes in a leading man. It is no wonder that Chloe is drawn to him. Dakota Madison (and all of her other alter egos) always does a great job creating that dream leading man, who is completely believable.

I didn't find myself as drawn into Chloe as I had thought I would. She seemed to leave a part of herself closed off. I was waiting for her to have a true meltdown over everything she had lost, even though she gained so much. Some of the timeline in the story also threw me off a little bit.

I love the setting of Old Town, which winds through all of the alter egos' stories. It seems like a magical place, with amazing people. I will always one-click these stories.


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About Dakota Madison

USA TODAY Bestselling author Dakota Madison is known for writing New Adult and contemporary romance with a little spice and lots of heart. She likes to explore current social issues in her work. Dakota is a winner of the prestigious RONE Award for Excellence in the Indie and Small Publishing Industry. When she’s not at her computer creating spicy stories Dakota likes to spend time with her husband and their bloodhounds at their home outside Phoenix, Arizona. Dakota also writes under the pen names SAVANNAH YOUNG, SIERRA AVALON and REN MONTERREY.

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KarenMuellerBrysonAuthor

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Tuesday, March 24, 2015

'The North Country Confessional' by Craig C. Charles


The North Country Confessional

by Craig C. Charles

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

Family roots, teachings, and tradition permeate Darby Weeks’s existence despite a two decades old decision to walk away from a life of privilege. They have given him the courage to survive under impossible conditions, but the most challenging of them all comes from an unexpected place: his return home. As heinous crimes peppered with riddles begin to plague the North Country, Darby's reappearance back home sparks an old rivalry between two families, releasing an evil to wreck vengeance upon everything around them. Darby's proposal of a truce between them not only fails to appease the rival family’s thirst for retribution; it fuels it. And the town of Bretton Woods lies between the two when old passions ignite and set forth new determinations to win an old struggle.

Reunited with an old flame and guided by a pompous blowhard, Darby sets out on a journey to learn the truth about his family’s past and their ancient blood feud with a ruthless industrialist. Darby’s quest leads him all over New England, from the rare books library at Dartmouth College to Author’s Ridge - the final resting place of the literary greats Thoreau, Hawthorne, and Emerson. Darby discovers family he’s never known and an insidious danger lurking in the arms of a rekindled love.

Read an excerpt:
CHAPTER 1

Emily Baines glanced down at the streets of Midtown Manhattan from her corner office at Tither Publishing and fiddled with the single gray strand of Tahitian pearls that clung around her neck. Rush hour had already paralyzed the streets of the city as throngs of humanity struggled to reach their insignificant evening destinations. Worker ants, she told to herself.

She had stayed late, disrupting her normal evening routine of pilates and a massage as she awaited confirmation that the assignment was complete. Her cell phone buzzed, announcing the receipt of the message. A smile blossomed on her face as she read the expected news. The object of her attention had paid the fee just like so many other political malfeasance, celebrities, and religious buskers that Tither had squeezed over the years, avoiding what would have been a very messy and very public scandal. Dirt was her business and business was never better. She verified the $20,000,000 transfer had been processed.

Sitting down, Emily congratulated herself as she poured another glass of Perrier-Jouët and marveled at how far she had come: building Tither Publishing into a media giant with no equal. She rarely thought about the past, but the picture and associated story on the front page of the New York Times stopped her cold in her tracks, causing unfamiliar pangs of nostalgia.

“Darby S. Weeks,” she said slowly while biting her bottom lip and caressing her pearls. She paced her expansive office for a minute, looking at the picture as memories invaded her mind. Throwing the paper on her desk, she hastily buzzed her personal assistant.

“Olivia, I’m going home to Bretton Woods for a little vacation. Make the necessary arrangements. I want to be in the North Country by tomorrow.”

Ready or not, here I come, war hero.


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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

I'm a native New Englander. I grew up in the sleepy shoreline community of Madison, CT. After graduating from high school in the late 80's, I headed out West and spent a wonderful six years living in, exploring, and getting lost in the deserts of Arizona. After earning my B.S. from Arizona State University, I headed back East trying to find my path in life.

I found myself trying out MANY different careers. I learned the art of audio engineering and worked at a major recording studio in Manhattan for a while. I learned the nuances of fine wine from a wonderful South African man and sold libations in his high-end store. I sold power transmission equipment as a manufacturer's rep in the Northeast. Next I ventured into the publishing world when I signed on with Yankee Magazine working in their Community Partners Program. It was here at Yankee's headquarters in Dublin, NH that I fell in love with the art of writing and beauty of the Great North Woods of New Hampshire. I met tremendous people and embarked on my own quest to write an engaging mystery novel set in New England. However, I couldn't ignore the internal pull I felt to work with young people. I went back to school and earn a Masters of Education degree and embarked on a career as a special education teacher working primarily with autistic children. This has been my main profession for the past 14 years as I continued to write and work towards mastering the craft of writing. I love the creative process of writing and editing.

In short, I'm a life long learner who continues to absorb all I can about the world around me.

Author Website: www.craigccharles.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/GraniteWriter


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'EMP (Struggle for Survival)' by Wilson Harp


EMP

by Wilson Harp

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

In a flash of searing light, the world changed. A massive solar flare has crippled the modern world and brought chaos and destruction. David Hartsman is stuck in the remote farm town of his youth on what was expected to be a short visit to check on his ailing parents. While his wife and his daughter are hundreds of miles away at home in Chicago, David must face the dangers associated with his own survival and the pressures of not being with his family. In a worldwide catastrophe, every struggle is personal.

Read an excerpt:
The rains came in little pulses over the next several days. Storms tore through the first night, darkening Kenton in a way I had never experienced. The northern lights were blocked out by the heavy clouds and the wind howled all the louder for the loss of sight.

The next two days saw a series of short showers. It brought plenty of fresh water to us, but delayed construction of individual latrines and outhouses. It also brought a melancholy that combined with worry and uncertainty.

A bright dawn greeted us on the third day and the sky looked clear in the north and west. The northern lights which had hung in the sky like specters the first two days were gone. Occasionally I would see a ribbon of color out of the corner of my eye, but it seemed more like a phantom feeling one would experience when they saw a bug and then lost track of it. A sensation would run along your leg or shoulder, but you knew it wasn’t really there.

Anne arrived about an hour after sunup with Clyde for me to ride. The gelding was starting to get used to me and for the first time seemed to recognize me as I approached.

“Not wearing your coat and hat today?” Anne asked. She smirked as she kept any tone of mocking out of her voice. I had been forced to wear an old jacket and baseball cap from my high school years during the last couple of days just to stay somewhat dry.

“No, it’s going to be a beautiful day,” I said.

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Wilson Harp is a writer based out of the American Midwest. As a military brat, he traveled and met people from many cultures and backgrounds. Exposure to so many different views has led him to an appreciation of an eclectic collection of music, film and literature.

His sense of wonder at stories and folklore started young and continues to this day, often affecting the themes and ideas in his writing. In his works you will find the old fashioned ideas of virtue and honor as the lifeline that pulls many of his characters through the situations they often find themselves.

www.wilsonharpbooks.com

www.facebook.com/wilsonharpbooks

@WilsonHarp on Twitter


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