*The material for this post was provided to me by Reading Addiction Virtual Book Tours*
*The material for this post was provided to me by Reading Addiction Virtual Book Tours*
*The material for this post was provided to me by Bewitching Book Tours*
Giveaway contest at the end of the post
The Lost and Broken Realm Things Forgotten Book 1 Chris M. Arnone Genre: Contemporary Fantasy ISBN: 9780991397907 ISBN: 9781311266194 ASIN: B00HEOMU6M Number of pages: 325 print approx 299 ebook Word Count: 103,000 Cover Artist: Cassandra Whitney Smashwords, Amazon, Barnes & Noble Book Description: Gabriel Drake had royally fouled up his life. Before his wife died, he was wealthy, respected, and loved. He pissed away the small fortune he and his wife built, drove away his friends, alienated his family, and even took a few precarious steps on the wrong side of the law. He lost his way. The world had forgotten the man he was, and then a head-on collision between his Jeep and a tree changed everything. Death would have been easier. Instead, he’s woken up in a strange place where all the lost and forgotten things and people of our world go to rest. The laws of physics seem to be driven more by magic than logic. Cats fly and talk into his mind. He’s in a place where real power has been trampled under the foot of a maniacal emperor, and Gabriel alone has the power to free these forgotten people from the emperor’s iron grip. Which will Gabriel save: these lost and broken people, or his own shattered life?
The expansive cave was filled with statues. Gabriel was immediately reminded of the terracotta army in China, row after row of warriors guarding the tombs of ancient Chinese emperors, but these weren’t warriors. They weren’t distinctly Chinese, either. They were cyclopean; that was the first thing Gabriel noticed. Rather than two equally distanced eyes, each statue had one large eye right above the nose.
Unlike those Chinese statues, these weren’t uniform, either. Different bodies, faces, attire, genders, and ages of Cyclops made up the horde of stone figures. Dread began to creep back up Gabriel’s spine as he saw something they all had in common other than their lack of depth perception: every carved face was locked eternally in an expression of fear. Stout warriors crouched, hiding their faces. Women with horrified looks stood guarding their children. Gabriel wondered what foul mind could have sculpted such horrors over and over again.
“What is this?” Gabriel asked in a hush, frightened voice.
“I don’t know. I’ve never even heard of this place,” Anansi responded. For the first time since Gabriel had met the manticore, he heard and felt doubt and fear coming from the creature. Zhiyan kept staring at the ground, impassive, as Finkle Prime led him along.
“Who is here?” said a voice from the darkness. It sounded like a young woman, with a bright, luscious voice. Something was amiss with it, though Gabriel couldn’t figure out exactly what.
“Who is that?” Gabriel asked Anansi.
“I asked you first, mortal,” The voice said playfully. Gabriel realized what was wrong. The ‘s’ sounds were extended, like Cobra Commander in G.I. Joe, or like a snake using a human voice. Gabriel couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. It wasn’t in his head. He’d heard enough telepathy to know the difference, but this woman’s voice seemed to bounce and echo around the cave and off the statues that filled it.
“Gabriel. My name is Gabriel. Who are you?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Gabriel. So kind of you to visit. No one comes to visit anymore. Zhiyan, he keeps them from me. Now here he is, marching to his death, how fitting,” She said happily.
“Prime, halt,” Gabriel said. The big clockwork man stopped and Gabriel saw Zhiyan with his head still bowed, but his eyes were closed tightly and a small smile crept over his face.
“Oh, shit,” Anansi said, suddenly angry. “Zhiyan, if we live through this, I hope the council draws and quarters your giant ass.”
“What is it?” Gabriel asked nervously.
“Ptolema. Eldest and most vicious of the Gorgon sisters,” Zhiyan finally said, still holding his eyes closed tightly and smiling wryly.
“Gorgons? Monsters like Medusa?” Gabriel asked, half in disbelief, half in growing panic. His mind raced. He tried to think of Medusa’s sisters, but the monster didn’t give him time to remember them.
“What do you know of my sister? She was no monster. She was a sweet, innocent girl. Raped and then villainized. No, she was no monster,” Ptolema said, her voice smooth as silk.
“Don’t look her in the eyes!” Anansi suddenly screamed telepathically. He almost didn’t say it in time.
“I am the monster,” She said, her voice dripping with venom. Out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw a woman come out of the shadows and into view. One moment later, and he would have looked at her squarely. Instead, he looked several feet to the side of her, taking in her form using his peripheral vision. She was tall as a man, a bit taller than Gabriel from what he could tell, and she wore a ragged red dress that came almost to the ground. Rather than legs, Gabriel saw a mass of writhing snakes skimming along the ground. She tried to dart directly into Gabriel’s view, faster than he expected, but he dropped his eyes fully to the ground. Her arms gleamed a brilliant, shining gold color, and reflected light from Prime’s shoulder lamps all around the cave. Gabriel wondered if her hair was made of venomous snakes like the stories told, but he didn’t chance looking up near her face.
“Why do you look away, Gabriel? Why do you not meet my gaze? Am I not beautiful?” Ptolema asked, almost pouting.
“No thanks. I’d rather not turn to stone today,” Gabriel said, his voice shaking. He remembered the stories of Medusa, how she turned men to stone with her gaze, and how Perseus destroyed her with a mirrored shield.
“There are worse ways to die,” Ptolema said, all the playfulness, seduction, and beauty suddenly gone from her voice. She was deadly serious. And then she was moving. She was fast, so much faster than Gabriel could have imagined. He leapt out of her way, but only just in time. He felt the wind move past him and smelled her, a waft of rotting flesh and dry snakeskin.
Gabriel scrabbled along the cave floor to get away from the horrifying woman. Tiny snake heads snapped at the air behind his heels. He looked all around for something, anything to fight with, to hide behind, anything.
“Oh, get up, little man. Die on your feet,” Ptolema balked, and then laughed at him, but only briefly. A massive shadow suddenly came over Gabriel, blocking out the light from Prime’s lamps. Fearful of looking up, he looked around and saw a massive paw, like one belonging to a lion that was three times larger than it should have been. A deafening roar filled his ears and Gabriel crawled out from under the creature, seemingly unnoticed. It was almost a giant lion, except it had two equally huge red feathered wings and the tail of a scorpion, its stinger poised to strike some thirty feet up in the air.
Chris grew up in Independence, MO. He attended college at Truman State University where he pursued his loves of theater, music, and the written word. Now, he makes his home in Kansas City, MO with his wife Christy and their four cats.
Aside from writing feverishly, he is an avid supporter of the Kansas City burlesque, performance, and arts communities. He is an occasional emcee, outspoken supporter of LGBTQ equality, and King of the Nerds. No, you didn’t vote for him; that’s why he’s king, not president.
Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk
(1) $30 Amazon Gift Card and a signed paperback copy- open to US Shipping
(5) Smashwords ebook copies
*The material for this post was provided to me by Reading Addiction Virtual Book Tours*
Contemporary Paranormal Fiction Date Published: January 31, 2014 Book description: My grandfather, who went by Henry his entire life, was really born Francis Michael Laskin. On occasion a few of the older relatives would call him Frank, a name he neither acknowledged nor accepted. I had never understood it as a child but... now in my early thirties, everything I knew about the man, his entire life, those that loved him and those that tried to control him all became clear and it all began with a pair of my grandfather's pants.
Silhouette framed by a lamp in the next room, casting a pale yellow light behind her, the dark, supple form entered. Coming closer, she hopped a little, bending at the waist, raising her right foot, removing her shoe. A step or two more and the sound of the left falling to the floor followed the first. Another step, and to my astonishment, the soft, slow, sound of a zipper and her skirt slipped to the floor in a muffled heap.
My heart pounded so hard I could not swallow and feared the need to blink, certain it was a dream and she would be gone if I did so.
She stood near the foot of the bed, undoing her hair with both hands, shaking it lightly to hang loose about her face. Closer now, her features became clearer and she smiled.
She stood in the delicate light and began to unbutton her blouse. Slowly, one button at a time, she undid them all, allowing it to hang open, leaving her chest unencumbered.
“I have never been so afraid,” she said softly as she undressed.
“Afraid, I would lose you,” she eased herself onto the bed, crawling on hands and knees, to sit next to me.
“Gabriel, we can’t. I can’t…” I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think.
“Are you not my mon coeur? Am I not your Gabby?” she asked, placing a hand at the center of my chest, her voice, low, husky, her accent thick with desire, pulled at the core of me.
“You know Connie and I…” I tried to push her hand away.
She held mine in return, pulling it close to press it against her cheek.
“I am beautiful for you, no?” Her voice held an edge of concern, as if I might actually say no.
“You are very beautiful. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met,” I answered honestly.
Her expression lightened, becoming more contented.
“It is not what you think, being beautiful. Men ignore me, thinking I am out of reach. Women hate me because they think I am prettier than they and that I am one of those… how do you say…?”
“Bitch,” I offered.
“Yes, that one.” She seemed happy that I got it right, sitting up, pointing at me and then to her nose as if we were now playing charades.
“Gabriel, we can’t.”
“Do you not want me, mon coeur? Do I not please you?” She leaned forward, coming closer, her blouse bulging open.
“More than I can say, but Connie and I…”
“No one will know,” she whispered, placing a hand across me on the bed, lightly pressing her lips to mine. Her mouth was soft, warm, inviting. The feeling was electric, thrilling. Her shirt had fallen open, exposing her exquisite skin and ample charms. My heart fluttered with excitement, accelerated by a flush of wild desire. The smell of her need, the perfume in her hair, mixed in my nostrils and became an intoxicating cocktail, scrambling my brain.
“The stars knew we were to be together when they were young and the world had not yet come to be. We could live in that moment… in that passion… in that hope the stars have waited all this time in expectation. We could be happy, you and I. No one but the stars themselves would know.” She kissed me again, more urgently this time.
“I would know.”
Her expression shifted. Tears began to fill her eyes. She sat up, pulled her blouse closed with both hands, and moved away from me.
“There is no room in your heart for me?” she asked softly, half to herself, half to me.
“I’m sorry, Gabby, but I love Connie,” I offered my hand in comfort.
“You have not said these words to me before. Then she is the sun at the center of your universe and I am but a moon, hidden in the shadow of her brightness,” she said sadly, getting up off the bed to find her clothes.
“Gabriel,” I called, throwing off the blankets to follow her.
Without another word, the house filled with the sound of her running down the stairs, followed a moment later by the thud of the front door closing.
My heart sank and I felt like crap.
About Tegon Maus
I was raised pretty much the same as everyone else… devoted mother, strict father and all the imaginary friends I could conjure. Not that I wasn’t friendly, I just wasn’t “people orientated”. Maybe I lived in my head way more than I should have, maybe not. I liked machines more than people, at least I did until I met my wife.
The first thing I can remember writing was for her. For the life of me I can’t remember what it was about… something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my closet. It must have been pretty good because she married me shortly after that. I spent a good number of years after inventing games and prototypes for a variety of ideas before I got back to writing.
It wasn’t a deliberate conscious thought, it was more of a stepping stone. My wife and I had joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams as they occurred. “Be as detailed as you can,” we were told.
I was thrilled. If there is one thing I enjoy it’s making people believe me and I like to exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an out right lie mine you, just a little step out of sync, just enough so you couldn’t be sure if it were true or not. When I write, I always write with the effort of “it could happen” very much in mind and nothing, I guarantee you, nothing, makes me happier.
Giveaway contest at the end of the post
Erasing: Shadows Erasing Series Book One K.D. Rose Genre: New Adult Paranormal Romance Publisher: Lycaon Press Date of Publication: December 17, 2013 ISBN: 978-1-77101-232-4 ASIN: B00HE60MPG Number of pages: 169 Word Count: 51,731 Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde Book Description: Generations of mystery smash together when a seemingly traditional family must shatter their illusions of normality to confront themselves and their friends, leaving no possibility unexplored in order to rescue- well, who exactly? Watch the Ross family, the High Five Gang, and multiple generations dig into an innovative explosion of imagination where they must confront numerous realities, real-world danger, and worst of all—their own teenage hormones! In a place where nothing is as it seems and shocks are around every corner, even the people you thought you knew may find themselves strangers in this moving and provocative reality-bender. With breathless pacing and psychological intrigue, Erasing: Shadows and the High Five Gang will keep you guessing until the very end. Links: Amazon Lycaon Press ARe Bookstrand Barnes and Noble
Exactly one hour later, six raggedy looking teenagers showed up out of nowhere in the astral, sitting on the ground near a farm. For a moment, they weren’t quite sure where they were. Then it all came back to them. The gravel underneath their legs was leaving imprints like always. They smelled hay. It was a sure sign they were ‘there.’
The Emergency Meeting Place.
The group surveyed the landscape, and it appeared exactly as it was supposed to be. The field over the hill lay behind Mira’s childhood home. Then they caught themselves staring at each other because of the sheer scale of difference between their before and after appearances.
“Wow.” Jonathan spoke first. He gaped at Michael, who, true to his word, had come back at about sixteen-years-old. Even his clothes were teenage clothes. “You’ve learned some things haven’t you!” He was impressed.
“From Mira,” answered Michael. “And apparently you have too.” Jonathan looked obviously older than Michael. If Michael had to guess, he would say Jonathan was nineteen or twenty. “But, I’ve re-thought this, and maybe I am going to return to age twelve. It’s closer to Mira’s age, and I can build more rapport with her.”
He didn’t mention that also he just plain missed her. If they were both twelve, well, hopefully her former crush on him when they were younger would manifest this time too. In real life she was older than him, though not by much. That was the weirdness of the astral. Playing with ages got really complicated.
Michael amazed the others as he shrunk. Suddenly he wasn’t sixteen anymore. Jonathan knew the technique, but the others were in awe.
“Can I do that too?” asked Zac, who was changing into the clothes he brought. Jonathan noted his older clothes were hanging off of him. Zac was the only other one at about age twelve. He was also the only one who hadn’t seemed to travel into the correct clothes. He had arrived still wearing his adult attire. Somehow his traveling skills were a bit behind the others, who looked their appropriate ages.
“No,” said Michael. “You are the cousin I have that is Mira’s age. The more people her age the better.”
Trina laughed at Zac’s adult clothes falling off. “Okay, Mr. Hobo, about ready there?” she teased.
Then she turned to Onie. “Wow, you’re suddenly a cougar , aren’t you,?” she said laughing, for Onie had turned up as age sixteen, four years older than her husband.
“Ha, ha,” said Zac.
“Yeah, forgive me if I wait until we’re back into the real world to um—oh never mind,” said Onie.
“So you do only love me for my body!” teased Zac.
“Well,” said Jonathan, getting everyone back on track, “we have to be careful how we introduce ourselves to Mira. It needs to be like it was before; except atour current astral age, so we don’t freak her out. I’m not sure where she would end up if she got confused and upset, but it wouldn’t be good.”
“Right,” said Michael. He popped a few more Tums. “She could end up in a forest or a storm. Or alone in the desert—you never know what the unconscious will do, so everyone needs to concentrate hard because Mira won’t be able to. So I will find her first and try to develop our old rapport. Knowing her, she will want to learn, and then I’ll introduce her to Jonathan like before.”
“Let’s write this down,” said Lu.
“I have paper and pen,” said Onie.
Lu looked at the group. “We really haven’t changed much personality-wise. There’s Onie with supplies on hand, Jonathan ordering us around, and Zac falling apart.” She laughed.
“I think it will be easiest if we think of this like a play. We all have our parts that are mimicking how we met and acted before. Only don’t forget how serious it is,” said Trina.
“I agree,” said Michael.
The group spent the next hour recalling their collective memories, remembering the old days, and then reenacted some of their initial encounters with Mira. Michael decided to leave out some of the negative events so as not to traumatize Mira. In the end, they had a plan.
“Does everyone feel comfortable with this?” asked Lu.
“Do you mean, do I feel comfortable as a nineteen-year-old?” said Jonathan. “Hell, yeah. Loving this.”
Everyone laughed. Perturbed, Zac spoke. “I’m surprised that I’m only twelve. I thought I’d be older. Why am I the only one that was automatically so young?”
Jonathan answered, “Well, it is representative of your inner evolution, so physically you may be older, but astrally, in this world, you haven’t really done that much more traveling or advanced your learning so you haven’t particularly grown intellectually or evolutionally ‘here.’ And remember,” he added, “when Michael first came back, he was twelve too. And look at him now—he can stretch to any age.”
Zac frowned. His wife saw and added, “It’s not a bad thing, Zac. Some people get older and can’t go back because they’ve lost their sense of wonder and attitude of learning. Other people never grow up because they never mature. I think we are right where we are supposed to be, and you never know, this adventure may change us a bit.”
“Yeah, hopefully in a good way,” Zac acquiesced.
Lu and Trina at sixteen voiced no complaints.
“Actually, Onie, this may come in handy, because you know we are not exactly the same ages as when we first met Mira, except for me, so I think Zac being closer to her age is a good thing,” said Michael.
“That’s a good thought,” said Zac. “I feel better.”
Jonathan was gathering his things and making moves to go. “It’s getting late. Is everyone clear on what to do? And the order to do it in?”
There were nods all around. Michael added, “Okay, from now on, I am twelve-year-old Michael. Is everyone also clear where to sleep tonight, how to eat, and all the practical things? We sleep in the real world, eat in the real world, but if anyone can, someone should bring some real food to the astral next time.”
Jonathan volunteered to try.
“Okay, unless there are any last concerns, let’s get this show on the road,” said Trina.
Onie had one last comment. “Everyone remembers our name, right? We loved it at the time and believed we were so slick. Mira liked it.”
Michael remembered back to his younger self. “The High Five Gang.”
About the Author:
K.D. Rose is an author and poet and currently has “Heavy Bags of Soul”, “Inside Sorrow” and “I AM (Poetry in Motion)” on sale at Amazon.com. Look for The Erasing Series, Book 1-“Erasing: Shadows” for Lycaon Press available on all publishing platforms. Erasing: Shadows is the first of a Seven Book Series for New Adults in the Paranormal Genre.
“K.D. Rose’s writing will set your neurons on fire.” – Tophat Raven Art and Literary Magazine.
K.D. Rose is now also an author with Lycaon Press. For more adult-themed books, her alter ego, H.K. Sterling is an author for Breathless Press. K.D. also continues to write poetry and recently created a new literary and art magazine with five other authors around the globe. K.D.’s poetry has been featured in a number of magazines online.
K.D. has an eclectic mind and loves language, physics, philosophy, photography, design, art, writing, symbolism, semiotics, spirituality, and Dr. Who. K.D. is an avid supporter of music, the arts, cutting edge science, technology, and creativity in all forms that encourage us to expand and explore past the artificial limits we often set for ourselves in order to see the everyday connections that exist among all things.
Join K. D. Rose on the following social media sites:
Website for the Erasing Series: http://kdroseworld.com/
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00830RFC0
Lycaon Press: http://www.lycaonpress.com/
3 ebook copies of Erasing: Shadows
UK/EU – Paperback and Kindle:
US – Paperback and Kindle:
Giveaway link at the end of the post
The Shade Trilogy – Book 1
Genre: Paranormal/Urban Fantasy
Date of Publication: March 9th 2014
Number of pages: 340
Word Count: 105,494 words
Cover Artist: Pixel Pixie Design
Book Description: James Langley's life is over. After an automobile accident leaves him comatose, James' body lies vulnerable in a hospital bed. However, his mind is lost, drifting between life and death, into The Shade. Trapped in a world shrouded by the unknown, he meets Virgil, a mysterious stranger that informs him that his car wreck was no accident; that the man responsible has imprisoned them both, intent on keeping them there. Together they must race against time to get James back to his body in the real world before he becomes the next victim of a malevolent psychopath. Enter the world of The Shade, where the boundaries of the human psyche are pushed to their limits and survival is not guaranteed. A place where death isn't the end, but only the beginning.
About the Author:
I am currently a part time writer and full time government employee. Reading and writing books is one of my favorite hobbies as I enjoy every part of the story telling process. I have been working on three full-length novels for the last three years. I grew up all around the world because my father was in the United States Air Force, the past ten years I have lived just outside of Dayton, Ohio, which is where I now reside with my wife and stepson.
An intense wave of pain shot its way up my spine, telling me I needed to get up. The hard hospital tiles had broken my fall with the gentle care you would expect. Slowly I opened my eyes, getting my first look at the ceiling of the room I had been thrown into. My bloody fist clinched a hand full of tile fragments and crushed them into powder.
That didn’t go as expected.
My hands shook as they slowly lifted my body back to an upright position.
Once on my feet, I scanned the empty room quietly. There was nothing significant about it; the room looked just like the hundreds of others in the abandoned hospital. The paint on the walls was cracked and peeling from years of neglect, along with a floor covered in a thick layer of grime. However, I wasn’t scanning the room to look at the scenery; my eyes were looking for something far more—sinister. My legs quivered as they tried to keep me from doubling back over.
Then I felt a presence in the room with me.
It wasn’t something tangible that I could see with my naked eye, but I knew that something was there. My breath remained slow and steady.
The fall must have been harder than I thought.
My hand rubbed the back of my head as I tried to get my bearings. Then it happened, coming out from the wall in front of me, the specter emerged.
It looked like a man in shape only. Truly, it was more like a cadaver that had been charred in an unholy fire. I gazed in horror at the creature, black as pitch. As I stared into the blackness that comprised it, the darkness seemed to swallow me up, almost like falling through space with nothing to grasp onto. Flesh from the specter’s body was peeling away, matching the paint on the walls. Its eyes, if you could call them that, were as black and deep as the ocean depths. It moved closer to me, with a twisted look on its face that seemed to say. “You, you’re screwed, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
With my fists balled tightly, readying myself for an attack. I could feel the color draining from my clenched fists as the creature leapt at me, its arms opened wide, ready to take me to the ground. I instinctively ducked, letting my body slam against the hard tile floor, causing my assailant to vault over me. I rolled forward—creating more distance between the creature and myself—and then sprang back to my feet.
The specter landed softly, only a few feet behind me.
I spun around to face the creature.
It turned to face me, but before it had time to attack; my fist was already rocketing towards its face. The power encapsulated in my closed hand crushed itself against the creature’s face and as the two forces made contact, a thunderous boom erupted in the room.
Take that you piece of—
The specter recovered quickly, and before I knew what was happening it had latched its arms around my waist and we were tumbling towards the ground. We slammed against the floor, rolling a few feet. When we stopped, my legs heaved upwards with all their strength, breaking the specter’s grip on me, hurling it across the room.
The creature hit the floor as I quickly found my way upright. Using the confusion to my advantage, I ran for the door. I made my way through the door and immediately turned right, heading down the long hospital hallway. My breath was stuck in my chest, as if my lungs refused to work. My heart thumped quickly inside me as I ran. I felt the side of my body begin to burn as the pain the specter had inflicted became apparent. Halfway down the hallway, I found a room and ducked into it to avoid the specter. My hand met my mouth to stop myself from breathing too heavily. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest I thought that it would give me away.
From down the hallway, I could hear the specter moving closer towards me. My eyes shut tight as the sound of footsteps came closer towards me. Closer and closer the footsteps of the creature passed by the room. It breathed heavily as it searched the hallway for me.
My muscles tightened.
I could feel the creature as it passed by the room.
One, two, three.
I counted in my head and then took off down towards the opposite end of the hallway. I ran back down the hallway, leaving the specter behind me. I had only fooled the creature for a moment, because almost immediately after I emerged from the room the sound of heavy footsteps running towards me echoed down the hall. I would have looked back, but I knew what chased after me, I knew the unending horror of what a monster like the specter could do to a man. I tried with all my might, to will my legs to move faster, but with no success. The noise from the creature behind me grew closer, and closer. Each step that I took down the hallway the creature gained another few feet on me, I knew that within a few seconds it would be on top of me again.
So in a split-second decision, I stopped to make a stand.
5 ebook copies of The Shade by Matthew Tallman