Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Win a $30 Amazon/BN GC: Fire Above by C.H. Maclean


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. C. H. MacLean will be awarding a $30 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
I love her so much, I'd risk anything.

She and I don't have names. We're just slaves, after all. But our hearts don't care, and we're lucky, we have a chance at a scrap of happiness in our terrible lives. My father is the Queen's pet.

But when my love discovers the lords' newest atrocity, she lashes out, does the unthinkable, and attacks one of them. Her courage is heroic, but now they have stuffed her in prison, getting ready to slaughter her.

With nothing to lose, I dare to dream of a life far from the lords. I fight for our freedom, and escape to the woods with my love. We can do no less than free all of our people in the effort.

Our flight through the woods is only the start of our journey. The lords’ flaming attacks, their deception, the loss of so many of my people—I don't know if I will survive, or if I even want to. But for my love, I will do almost anything, even battle the fire above.

Enjoy an excerpt:

My father opened the small door and his eyes lit up for a brief second. He must be alone. We were still in the hall, though, so I said, “I live to serve.”

“I live to serve,” he said, moving aside and ushering me in.

His office always looked the same. Fireballs hovering in the corners cast flickering but bright light around the small room. Baskets of tally sticks lined the room in an order only he understood, stacks of the thin sheets of metal the lords used to hold language on the one table in the room. No chair or decoration. Looking like a storage closet, this room saw most of the information about the empire.

Inside, my father relaxed a hair. He gave me a half-smile and put one hand on my shoulder. “Where were you?” he said in low tones. “They need a runner to go to the far southeast village.”

“The lords wanted to collect a package from oldest brother's house,” I said. “They Called his youngest.”

“Already?” he said, his eyes falling. All three of my grandsons, I heard him think. I thought I had more time. He thought about telling me something else, something serious. Once again I considered telling him I could hear his thoughts, so he might as well just talk to me. Once again, I rejected the idea. My ability was close to magic, and everyone knew only lords could use magic. I loved my father, but didn't know how he would react.

About the Author:
To young C. H. MacLean, books were everything: mind-food, friends, and fun. They gave the shy middle child’s life color and energy. Amazingly, not everyone saw them that way. Seeing a laundry hamper full of books approach her, the librarian scolded C. H. for trying to check them all out. “You'll never read that many before they expire!” C. H. was surprised, having shown great restraint only by keeping a list of books to check out next time. Thoroughly abashed, C. H. waited three whole days after finishing that lot before going back for more.

With an internal world more vivid than the real one, C. H. was chastised for reading in the library instead of going to class. “Neurotic, needs medical help,” the teacher diagnosed. C. H.'s father, a psychologist, just laughed when he heard. “She's just upset because those books are more challenging than her class.” C. H. realized making up stories was just as fun as reading, and harder to get caught doing. So for a while, C. H. crafted stories and characters out of wisps and trinkets, with every toy growing an elaborate personality.

But toys were not mature, and stories weren't respectable for a family of doctors. So C. H. grew up and learned to read serious books and study hard, shelving foolish fantasies for serious work.

Years passed in a black and white blur. Then, unpredictably falling in love all the way to a magical marriage rattled C. H.'s orderly world. A crazy idea slipped in a resulting crack and wouldn't leave. “Write the book you want to read,” it said. “Write? As in, a fantasy novel? But I'm not creative,” C. H. protested. The idea, and C. H.'s spouse, rolled their eyes.

So one day, C. H. started writing. Just to try it, not that it would go anywhere. Big mistake. Decades of pent-up passion started pouring out, making a mess of an orderly life. It only got worse. Soon, stories popped up everywhere- in dreams, while exercising, or out of spite, in the middle of a work meeting. “But it's not important work,” C. H. pleaded weakly. “They are not food, or friends, or...” But it was too late. C. H. had re-discovered that, like books, life should be fun too. Now, writing is a compulsion, and a calling.

C. H. lives in a Pacific Northwest forest with five pets, two kids, one spouse, and absolutely no dragons or elves, faeries, or demons… that are willing to be named, at least.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Goodreads ~ Twitter ~ Pinteret


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Monday, March 30, 2015

Win a $25 Amazon/BN GC - KAYLEN'S RISING by Yves Robichaud


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author sill be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn commenter via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Kaylen has been in the dark for fourteen years – in every sense. His people are hunted, so they must struggle to survive within underground caves. His community despises his family, taunting him constantly. His parents keep him housebound, forbidding him from wielding sword or wand.

When he is finally allowed to attend school, the harsh truth reveals he has much to learn – including a unique magical ability. Kaylen can summon and control skeletons!

With surface-dwellers threatening war, he will need every friend he can make, and to stay true to himself if he is to survive what is to come.


Enjoy an excerpt:

Chapter 21: A magician and a snowball

The magician continued to laugh—louder now—as he turned again towards the large chunk of ice hurtling towards him. "What?" He snarled defiantly at the party. "Already run out of your best tricks, and reduced to throwing snowballs at me? And here I thought you were getting interesting..."

He started waving his wand in a small circle, slowly at first and then increasing in speed and size. As he did this, a green fire emanated from his wand and grew until it matched the shape and form of the incoming ice ball perfectly. "Oh, no!" he cried mockingly. "Here I am with nothing but a little match to fight your big, bad snowball! However shall I defend myself?"

As the ice ball began its downwards arc toward the human, he started to twirl his staff, which began to glow with an electric purple shimmer. Oraweth grimaced when she saw the purple glow, because she knew it meant he was going to cast one of his more powerful attack spells: a magical bolt that could slice through individual shields and had required all three elves to focus on a combined shield with the help of the skeletons to block it. But this combined shield took a lot of energy to create, and they were not certain they had the strength left at this point to make one that was strong enough to protect them.

About the Author:
Yves Robichaud is originally from the small Acadian community of Grand-Barachois, New Brunswick, Canada. He has studied Business Administration and Information Technology, currently works for the federal government, and is the proud father of one son: Jeremy. Inspired by a love of fantastical, magical tales, Kaylen's Rising is Yves' first attempt to share this literary passion with his son and the rest of the world.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads
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Buy the book at Amazon - FREE until April 3!

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Friday, March 27, 2015

Win a $10 Amazon/BN GC - Afterlife or Bust by June Mayes

BBT_TourBanner_AfterlifeOrBust copy

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. June will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

MediaKit_BookCover_AfterlifeOrBustLizzie is making the best of her life, er afterlife. She's working hard being a doctor to all things supernatural and for the most part has managed to behave. With her daytime watcher in tow and a very enticing Master Vampire turning up the heat of their romance, things couldn’t be better.

Of course things could get worse and do. Being killed again was not part of Lizzie’s agenda and having to navigate the politics of all things that go bump in the night is just icing on the afterlife cake. But Lizzie has plans. She's going to make her death worth living and she is going to drag everyone else along kicking and screaming.

Enjoy an excerpt:

“Nice scrubs,” Frank said, sounding relaxed for the first time all day, er night. I had to give him credit, he wasn’t laughing.

“Apparently, these were the only scrubs they could rustle up on short notice,” I muttered, determined not to give any one of the cretins I worked with the satisfaction of losing my temper. I pulled my very recently washed blonde hair into a braid and tossed it back over my shoulder in agitation.

“They're cute,” Frank said with a big grin. Behind him, Furball was snickering. While the boys may not get along at the best of times, for some reason, when it came to me being the brunt of a cruel joke, they seemed to find camaraderie. I, on the other hand, was not amused.

“They have bunnies all over them,” I pointed out unimpressed, “which I imagine goes down well in a ward with patients under the age of twelve. This, however, is not the pediatric ward.” I tossed a glare toward Elvis and Abbie. Both were engrossed in their paperwork. I was so not buying it. I leaned up against the counter and crossed my arms to sulk.

Frank kept smiling, and I swear he was leaning closer for a kiss. Oh boy. Suddenly he stopped. Squinting, he moved in. Let me clarify, he leaned away from my mouth and closer to examine my top. Talk about disappointed.

“It looks like someone’s drawn on it,” he murmured. He fingered one of the drawings.

I huffed a sigh and picked up my files again, moving toward my next patient. Frank followed. There was no way he was going to let this one drop.

“Do the bunnies have fangs?” he asked incredulously.

About the Author: June Mayes is a Cape Cod born and bred writer who lived in London for 10 years before returning home. She’s a hopeless romantic with a passion for writing all sorts of genre. Her days are spent juggling family life, walking the dog, writing and reading books, more books and even more books!

Amazon Author Page ~ Goodreads


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