Showing posts with label blitz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blitz. Show all posts

Friday, March 18, 2016

Blitz : Daughter of Magic

Daughter of Magic by Teresa Roman

Publication date: March 15th 2016
Genres: Urban Fantasy, Young Adult
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble
Lilli sees things no one else does.

Desperate to make sense of the dreams and visions that have plagued her since childhood, Lilli confides in Devin, her closest friend, and the boy she’s fallen for.

Instead of questioning her sanity, Devin confesses to secrets of his own, which are far darker. His revelations about magic, witches and demons stun Lilli. But it’s what he knows about Lilli’s mother, long believed to be dead, that leaves her feeling betrayed. Despite her anger, Lilli will have to learn to trust Devin again, because he is the only one who can protect her from a dark danger that’s coming for her from a world away.
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“Everybody needs a hero, Lilli. I want to be yours. You just have to let me.” He reached out to brush my hair over my shoulder.
I didn’t know what to make of his words. I wanted them to mean something—that he’d begun to feel about me the way I did for him. But it was probably wishful thinking. Knowing Devin, the reason for his extra kindness was because of what happened to my father.
“After all the things you’ve done for me, I think you hit hero status quite a while ago.” I kept my voice light, even though I meant every word. Not only did he get me a job—not an easy feat in Crescent City where unemployment was rampant—but he was the first person besides my aunt that I ever felt comfortable talking to about my mother. And if he hadn’t been with me when I found my dad, I don’t know how I ever would’ve gotten past the shock.
He lifted my chin and looked into my eyes. “You’ve been crying.” His hand moved to my cheek. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say; of course you’ve been crying.”
Staring into Devin’s eyes, feeling his hand on my cheek, made me feel better and worse at the same time. He had no idea how impossibly hard it was to be around him when all I wanted was for him to kiss me, to tell me he needed me as badly as I did him. I lowered my gaze and he dropped his hand.
Teresa currently lives in beautiful Sacramento, CA with her husband, three adorable children and a dog named Parker that her son convinced them to adopt. When she's not at her day job or running around with her kids, you can find her in front of the computer writing, or with her head buried in another book. If you'd like to find out more about her, she can be found at www.teresaromanwrites.com where you can also sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive book release information.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Blitz : The X Factor

Why reading is the best travel agent you can have

From an early age books have always been sacred to me. I can go as far as to remember how my father introduced me to the enchanting world of books. Every time he read a book it seemed to me like his passing over letters was unraveling a completely new, unknown and magnificent world. It was a landscape that was lying behind the seven Seas and was oh-so-different from everything I was used to before.
I was very eager to learn how to read. And I knew why. As soon as I could read I felt like this unexplored faraway world was all mine. And guess what? It was! All of a sudden I was able to discover Alaska with Jack London or travel the Moon with Jules Verne. I was fighting South American tribes and discovering how rich my homeland’s history and culture are.
To this day reading to me is the best travel agent I can have. I feel this prickling feeling inside of me whenever I open up a book. It’s wanderlust. A spiritually rich world lays bare in front of me. It is a world I had wanted to get to know for a long time, but, for some reason, had kept myself from going, saying ‘I do not have enough time to go on such a long journey.’ And now I finally set sails!
As soon as I start reading I forget about everything and everyone around me and indulge in a journey through time and space. I cannot put a book down until I have not reached my final destination. And when my journey finally comes to an end the characters and places continue to stay with me for a very long time. They are my friends now. They talk to me and we exchange thoughts for they have now become a part of me.
Reading to me is passion. Each time it enchants me like the first love. A lot of things in life turn perpetual, but a good book will always uncover facets of my soul I had not known before.

That is why I will never fire my travel agent. I will never give up on this passion and cannot wait to start my next journey!



The X Factor: Confessions of a Naive Fashion Model


Ivan Sivec
Publication date: August 16th 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult
Goodreads / Amazon / B&N

Synopsis

It takes three mistakes to be swallowed up and spat out by the fashion industry.
You trust the wrong people.
You think you know everything there is to know about life.
You take drugs.

Maja started off as a regular 17-year-old high-school kid, fighting her inner insecurities while dreaming to become an actress like Marilyn Monroe.
At a party her boyfriend Klemen introduces her to a renowned modelling agent. He sees a special X Factor hidden insight her. And a great business opportunity for himself…

Fast forward a few weeks later. Maja’s charm and talent land her a modelling contract in the trendy and exciting fashion capital of Milan. She’s completely enchanted and determined to make it in the fashion world.
But things don’t turn out the way she had planned.

Exhausting long photo shoots, stressful fashion shows, strict dieting and wild parties start taking their toll on her soon enough. In desperate search for help Maja reaches out to her agent and other false friends from the fashion industry that emotionally and physically exploit her to the point where ‘Maja the Great’ is merely a shadow of her former self.

She starts battling drug addiction that ends up in a tragic event.

Maja has been finally swallowed up and spit out by the fashion industry with its endless traps. What price will the girl with the X Factor have to pay for her naivety?
* * * * * * *

The young adult novel The X Factor by the bestselling Slovenian author Ivan Sivec is based on a true story and takes the reader on a frightening journey into the world of drug addiction among teenager fashion models.

Excerpt

It started like this:
“I’ll give you a fourteenth of an ounce,” Monica was unusually generous and understanding. “For extremely difficult times. Stop by if you need more. But be careful not to get used to it too much. Heroin, for example, is only meant for critical moments, but can otherwise ruin a person.”
At the time she didn’t know the director was a drug trafficker. A true drug dealer. By selling drugs to models she lured their hard earned money into her own pocket. Business is business, of course.
Everything in the world is about business.
And exactly because of this Maja was now even more convinced that this was the first and the last time she would resort to the white powder.
But destiny had other plans for her.
Maja felt lost after the incident. She thought everyone was talking about her behind her back, that everyone was judging her. At the time she didn’t have a hunch about the fact that she was only an insignificant speck people can crush easily without any bad conscious.
However, it all depended on whether this insignificant speck would allow others to crush her.
But time ran by relentlessly.
9th June 2004.
A gala dinner.
All the Crème de la crème of Milan society was invited. The models were keeping the guests company, but also the whole fashion show staff gathered.
The fancy invitation that had a big red rose on the cover page said:
After the very successful, attention-grabbing fashion show, our great fashion designer Riccardo invites his dear guests and co-workers for a gathering. The reception will take place on Wednesday 9th June 2004. “Wow, you’re Riccardo’s co-worker now!” Svetlana sincerely hugged Maja, after she showed her the invitation.
They both knew the only reason why the great designer Riccardo was organising this reception was to easier sell his new designs. Amongst the cream of society in Milan were mostly moneybags that liked to show off with Riccardo’s creations in theatres, luxurious receptions and other events.
Maja felt awkward because Svetlana wasn’t invited to the dinner party.
“I’m not going anywhere without you. I don’t know anyone there.” “What do you mean?” Svetlana tried to comfort her. “You know the great designer himself! And the whole of Milan, actually the whole of Italy knows you, after all you were on the cover of the Italian issue of Bravo.”
“They also know me because I stumbled at the fashion show,” she added bitterly.
“That’s publicity as well.”
Despite Svetlana’s convincing, Maja decided not to attend the gala dinner. Out of solidarity to her friend, but mostly because she was afraid that the reason why she fell was written all over her face, even though everyone accepted her stumble as if it was nothing special; as if things like that happened a thousand times before.
And then the phone rang.
“Hello, this is Monica.”

Author Bio:

In his rich and thriving career the writer, poet and publicist has written in many genres. His broad ‘repertoire’ includes historical novels and stories, biographies, psychological novels, adventure novels and travelogues, books with sporting themes, youth book series, picture books and books for the youngest readers as well as humorous stories.
He published over 125 books and is one of the most popular Slovenian authors.
As a poet he has written more than 2,500 lyrics for ethnic and entertaining music for which he received many awards.
Please visit facebook.com/the.X.factor.the.book for more information!

Monday, November 23, 2015

Blitz: The Second Chance

The Second Chance by Aubrey Parker

(Inferno Falls, #3)
Publication date: November 24th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Synopsis

He left her alone. Now he’s back … but too much has changed.

Maya grew up with a big heart and even bigger dreams. She never thought she’d end up a single mother spending her whole life where she grew up—the small town of Inferno Falls. But things didn’t work out the way she thought. Grady, her high school love, moved away and left her alone to raise her daughter before the ink dried on their diplomas. Eight years later, Maya’s struggling to make ends meet. And when life gets too tough, she heals the void inside in the only way she knows … whether it’s right or wrong.

But then Grady returns. He’s finally grown homesick after nearly a decade of wandering America, seeing sights and having adventures like Maya always dreamed of—but could never reach for. And Maya holds out hope—more than hope, a need—that Grady is coming home for her, too. It could be just like old times, if she can keep a grip on her bad habits for long enough. Maybe she can finally have the man she’s always wanted, and Kylie can have the father she’s always needed.

Many of us get second chances, but never more than three strikes.

Maya makes the dangerous mistake of assuming everything is just the way it was before, despite the years that have passed. When Grady only wants to make sure they’re not moving too quickly, Maya sees rejection and disaster looms. Rather than preserving a perfect memory, it seems the years have changed them both too much, perhaps, to heal the past. But to earn the love and happiness she’s hunted for so long, Maya won’t merely need to learn to accept Grady … and will have to learn to accept herself, first.
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Previous books in the series:

 
Teaser 24

Excerpt

It’s amazing how comfortable this all is.
It would be inaccurate to say dinner goes smoothly because these are my parents and they’re always saying or doing something that embarrasses me even when I’m here alone. But considering all the balls in play, it goes far smoother than it has any right to.
Grady has been gone for Mackenzie’s entire life. I haven’t bothered Mac with the details of our past, of course, because it would only burden her, and it’s enough for her to think of Grady as an “old friend.” But my folks know it all. They know how we used to be. They know how we broke up, and how I hooked up with Tommy. Up until that point, I feigned virginity, and even after I pretended that I had no itches in desperate need of scratching. If my parents had their druthers, they’d still think I was snow white, but Tommy left me with evidence to the contrary. Grady might have come off as a saint compared to deviling, sex-mongering Tommy, but my parents still know Grady left me, and how angry I became. I think they shared a lot of that anger, and certainly helped me pull through. They know I was stressed when Grady returned. And if I force myself to think past their often-oblivious appearances, I’m sure they know deep down just how much I want him back.
And yet nobody is showing a sign.
Nothing is awkward.
No one is walking on eggshells. Nobody is acting like they know secrets or like they suspect secrets being harbored against them. There are no signs of old grudges, old feelings left to molder in forgotten corners. My folks could be Grady’s parents, too, the way they keep henpecking him and weaseling his life’s details into the open for quiet, well-meaning judgment.
Dad has thoughts on how to get maximum resale value out of the claptrap truck Grady used to tour the country, away from us.
Mom wants to see photos of all the places he visited while I was sobbing into pillows, raging against Grady, Tommy, and the world.
He accepts it all. I watch him absorb it and love him that much more. All the old feelings are coming back. Even if I wanted to stop them, I couldn’t. I feel myself warming from the bottom up, like a vessel filling with liquid. I start to smile and can’t keep a straight face even when I want to.
I remember how we used to be. How, on two or three separate occasions, he came here with me, playing the good suitor despite his somewhat unfair bad boy reputation, and how afterward I climbed out my window to meet him at the creek, where we made love on the bank. I remember the innocent joy of those evenings — the way the air held the day’s heat, the smell of soil under our blanket, the moon shining its blue light between the branches overhead. I remember the feeling of promise: that there were only good things waiting and that everything would be all right.
A lot has happened since I last felt this way, but it strikes me how curious it is, the way things have come full circle. There was a time of torment and tumult between Grady’s and my innocent days, but that time has passed. I’ve been pregnant and alone, but now I’m a seasoned mother with a family around me. I’ve been angry and frightened, but today I feel happy and (at this table with Grady beside me, at least) secure and content.
We’re no longer seventeen. We no longer have quite as many years ahead of us, and in some important ways, our eyes have been opened to the world’s truths. But that doesn’t mean we can’t pick up where we left off. There’s no reason we can’t still have that future, albeit with a decade lost to time in between.
I watch Mackenzie. She doesn’t know this man, yet she fits with him like the missing piece of a puzzle. And I watch Grady with her, and I see how he’d be as a father. How he could have been as a father. How he is being a father, right here and now.
Yes. I could be happy here.
All the day’s problems feel far away. I don’t want to send my mind out to the things that were bothering me so badly earlier, but in an intellectual way I know they’re there … and yet I don’t care. Whatever is wrong, I have my family. Whatever happens, it will all work out. Whatever goes wrong, Grady will make it right.
I wonder if I’m being stupid all over again. I have no idea how Grady feels, other than the inkling I first got from his text and the impression that’s continued with our shared glances since. Maybe he could love me again. Maybe he never stopped, the way I suppose I never really stopped loving him. Or maybe I’m building a house of cards that could collapse at any time.
It doesn’t matter. Maybe I’m wrong to feel this way. Maybe I’m being an idiot. I simply don’t care. For now, it feels good. For now, I’m happy.
Maybe I’m setting myself up to get hurt all over again.
But tonight it’s a chance I’m willing to take.

Teaser 30

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Blitz : Lover, Divine


Lover, Divine by A. Star 

(Mythos: Gods & Lovers #1) 
Publication date: February 25th 2014
Purchase: Amazon | B&N
Genres: Adult, Mythology, Romance
Goodreads: Goodreads
For fans of the Oracle of Delphi series…and for those who aren’t…
Born into one of the wealthiest families in Ireland, Siobhan Law has status, privilege, and a secret: The Greek gods of Olympus and their kingdom in the clouds are real, and her family acts as one of their agents on Earth.
When the beautiful immortal celeste Liam Argyros shows up claiming to have come to Earth to deal in the affairs of the divine, Siobhan finds herself unable to resist his charms. New to the game of passion and seduction, she quickly ends up in over her head, sinking deeper with every attempt Liam makes to win her over.
But Liam’s divine mission is far more complex than she ever imagined and nothing is truly as it seems. Because Liam has a secret of his own: He is Apollo, Olympian god of the Sun, and his mission will never be complete until he has claimed Siobhan’s heart forever.

WARNING: For readers 18+ only. Contains adult language and sexual situations.

“If I asked you to be my lover, would you?” Liam inquired, changing the subject completely.
I stared at him as if he were mad. “No!”
“Why not?” He actually had the audacity to look surprised.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “On top of the fact tha’ I jus' met you and you stole principal from me today? Besides, you belong to Aphrodite.” And nobody with brains purposely ticked off the ever-vengeful goddess of Love. Her jealousy and wrath was almost as legendary as Hera, the Queen of the gods.
“Jealous, Siobhan Law?”
“Definitely not! I actually pity her and can’t understand why she’d want you as a lover. I’m sure she regrets it every time she sees your face.”

Liam laughed. “She feels a lot of things when she sees me, but regret is not one of them.”
A. Star is a fan of dirty passion. She likes to read it, and she damn sure likes to write it. Her first adult romance/fantasy novella is called Invasion, an alien romance about sacrifice. Lover, Divine is the first release from the Mythos: Gods and Lovers series. Future releases under A. Star include, King, Desired (Mythos: Gods and Lovers #2), the Love & Steampunk series, the Purr, Inc. stories, and more.



Author links:


Friday, December 19, 2014

Blitz : Leon's Way


Leon’s Way by Sunniva Dee

Publication date: December 19th 2014
Genres: New Adult, Romance

GoodreadsClick
Purchase: Amazon

I’m Leon , number one object of Deepsilver’s rumor mill. Owner of student hotspot, Smother.
Since I was sixteen, the world has been mine. I do everything—
My way.
Every co-ed in town clenches her thighs over me, but most don’t fit the bill. See, I like my girls broken . Once I detect my shade of don’t-give-a-fuck damaged, I fight hard, I fight dirty, and I don’t give up until—
I conquer.
Drunk fathers and frequent beatings don’t merit attention, but when my despicable dad starts the process of croaking, I’m forced to remember. Thus, the downward spiral begins: my latest broken-girl turns the tables on me and splits. My hot-as-hell employee, Arriane, throws me the curve ball of a lifetime. And suddenly—
I’m out of control.
But at the center of my chaos, she exists. Always close, always sweet, and so beautifully fucking… wholesome. She represents everything I’ve shied from in a woman. Still—
I crave her.
I’m Leon, and I don’t deny my cravings. Just—this girl is not surrendering. So here I am, fighting harder. Fighting dirtier. And goddammit all, I will—
Conquer.


This is my bar. My party.
And she’s mine.
My girlfriend’s eyes shine with happiness and relief. Only she isn’t beaming at me. She brushes my hand off her thigh and stands up on her barstool, waving. Smiling a beautiful smile she has never graced me with. 
I look past the partiers on my club’s terrace, following her focus. I ignore the colors of the sky, the explosions from the New-Year’s fireworks, and detect him as easily as she did.
Dominic stands at the top of the stairs like some chick-flick hero.
He wrestles to get past Jason, one of my bouncers. Dominic’s eyes are trained on my—my—Pandora with so much fucking emotion I want to jab them out.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I grind to Pandora when she hops down to meet him. I’ve fought too hard to let this happen. In a few minutes, a new year starts, and she’s in it, goddammit, with me; she’s not taking off with another man.
How the hell did he get into Smother in the first place? My bouncers are useless! One simple task I laid on them tonight: don’t let Dominic in.
Pandora started out as a challenge to me. I knew I’d snagged her late, that she had a history with the pretty-boy. But he’s labeled “Perfect Dominic” on her cell, which is the very reason why she’s with me and not him.
Yeah, Pandora and I, we are the same. We’re each other’s brand of screwed-up, and guess fucking what? I’m not about to let her forget. I never lose, and I control my world with the precision of a puppeteer, but—
The strings are fraying.
My dolls aren’t obeying.
Behind me, my second-in-charge, Christian, calls my name. He doesn’t recognize me, not now that I shove my girlfriend past the counter and use her body to crash through the door to the storage room.
I barely register Pandora’s eyes going huge with terror. Her fear…. it’s beyond the kind I get off on. She’s panicking—but so am I.
Because she can’t. Fucking. Choose. Him.
My mind blurs. Then, it checks out. The glittering rainbow of colors in the sky means squat when a sole shade of red tinges my vision.
“Leon! What the hell are you doing?” Pandora shrieks.
I am primal. A warrior. A caveman. I thrust her hard against the shelves. I am a wolf biting down on her neck, silencing her.
“I’ll fix this, Pandora—I’ll be right back,” I growl. Then I close the door behind me. Lock, lock her in and pocket the key. She’s going crazy in there, wailing for me to open—pleading—
Soon, I can’t hear her because I have charged past Jason, and I’m at Dominic’s throat. “You!” I shout. “You little shit. I will destroy you!”
Originally from Norway, I moved to the United States twelve years ago. I hold a Master’s degree in languages and taught Spanish at college level before settling in at the Savannah College of Art and Design as an adviser.

I write New Adult fiction, sometimes with a paranormal twist—like in “Shattering Halos,” published by The Wild Rose Press in February 24th 2014 and in “Stargazer,” released November 2014. The first book I’ve self-published was the New Adult Contemporary novel “Pandora Wild Child,” which made me a proud indie author in October 28th 2014.

I specialize in impulsive heroines, bad-boys, and good-boys running amok. Then, there’s the intense love, physical and emotional attraction beyond reason—sensory overload for the reader as well as for the characters. Like in real life, I hope you’re unable to predict what comes next in my stories.

Yes, so I write what I love to read, and depending on the reader, you’ll find my books to be a fast-paced emotional rollercoaster—or disturbing because the struggles of love aren’t your thing. Here’s to hoping you have the same reading vice as me! 


Author Links:

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Blitz :Spark Rising


Spark Rising by Kate Corcino 

Publication date: December 15th 2014
Genres: New Adult, Post-Apocalyptic, Science Fiction
GoodreadsClick
Purchase: Amazon
All that’s required to ignite a revolution is a single spark rising.
Two hundred years after the cataclysm that annihilated fossil fuels, Sparks keep electricity flowing through their control of energy-giving Dust. The Council of Nine rebuilt civilization on the backs of Sparks, offering citizens a comfortable life in a relo-city in exchange for power, particularly over the children able to fuel the future. The strongest of the boys are taken as Wards and raised to become elite agents, the Council’s enforcers and spies. Strong girls—those who could advance the rapidly-evolving matrilineal power—don’t exist. Not according to the Council.
Lena Gracey died as a child, mourned publicly by parents desperate to keep her from the Council. She was raised in hiding until she fled the relo-city for solitary freedom in the desert. Lena lives off the grid, selling her power on the black market.
Agent Alex Reyes was honed into a calculating weapon at the Ward School to do the Council’s dirty work. But Alex lives a double life. He’s leading the next generation of agents in a secret revolution to destroy those in power from within.
The life Lena built to escape her past ends the day Alex arrives looking for a renegade Spark.
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In Spark Rising, Agent Alejandro Reyes discovers Magdalena Gracey living deep in the desert of what was New Mexico. In this scene, written from Alex’s point of view, Alex reports back to his best friend and partner in revolution, Thomas, that he’s found a very strong rogue Spark…and Thomas has been waiting for the moment for a very long time.

“You found one?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Thomas’s quirked lips grew into a smile. “How strong is he?”
Alex waited a beat, drawing out the moment. He’d only get to do this once. “She is the brightest thing I’ve ever seen. Her bloom was so bright it hurt to look at it, and she was still fully functional.”
His friend stilled, one hand poised for a blow that didn’t fall. “She?” 
Alex could almost hear the click as the final piece of Thomas’s grand plan fell neatly into place, making the largest, most theoretical of his ideas a reality. 
His arms fell to his sides.  He turned to Alex. “Tell me.”
“Do you remember Three’s Senior Councilor Aide, name of Gracey?” Alex asked. “Caught being curious about things he had no need to know? She’s his daughter.”
Thomas frowned his disagreement with a slight shake of his head. “Gracey had a daughter and a son. The daughter’s just a mid-level. Like all girls.” His voice was disappointed.
 “He had another daughter. He faked her death and hid her away.” Alex took a breath. “After his death, as soon as she was old enough, she left the city. She’s been living on the edge of tribal lands and working as a black market Spark. We put ourselves on her schedule. And when we pulled up she had a corona around her like the sun at full eclipse. Like I said, it hurt to look at her.
“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said. Emotion tightened his throat, and he swallowed to clear it. It had been beautiful, but still. 
Thomas was still now, utterly focused on his friend. “One of the disappeared girls,” he said. “How old?” 
“Twenty-four. Young enough, and old enough. Tiny thing. Big green eyes. Coated in freckles. Not pretty, exactly, not that it matters, but stunning in her own way.” He frowned. What did that have to do with anything? He barked a laugh as he focused on what mattered—the personality they’d have to work around to get her to join them. Just because he admired her ballsiness didn’t mean he couldn’t recognize that her strength would make things harder. “She’s a tough little pain in the ass.”
Thomas took a deep breath. “Please tell me you’ve brought her here?”
He shook his head. “She got away—”
“Dammit, Alex! This is important!” His gloved hands shot up to frame his head in anger and disbelief.
“I damn well know how important it is! She took us out. Took. Us. Out.” 
They had hoped to find a Spark evolved to a dangerous, exquisite extreme. They’d found her, and that presented a danger all its own. 
Alex ran his hands through his hair. “She took us out long enough to get out through her escape tunnel. She made it to the tribe. I couldn’t do anything at that point.”
“You know where she is?”
Alex nodded.
“Then we’ll go get her. Tonight.”
Alex closed his eyes for a moment. Shit. He’d figured Thomas’s reaction would be strong. But this was on the extreme end. 
“No, Thom.”
“Yes! She cannot get away. She belongs with us.”
“We’re not ready to go to war. And that’s what it would be. We have to do this the way we do things. We have to be smart.” Alex stared down into Thomas’s pale eyes, holding onto his calm. One of them had to. 
Thomas took two quick steps to stand inches from Alex. “We cannot allow her to disappear. She is—she’s our Eve.”
“I know. And I’m working on it. As soon as the Council gets wind of this girl, they will scramble everything to ensure she is taken into custody.”
“Then you get to her first, Alex. Because if they get to her first and they can’t figure out how to harness her, they will kill her. And either way, they win. You get to her first. You bring her home to us. I don’t care what you have to do.”
Alex took a long breath. “We are so close,” he reminded his friend. “Zone Three is primed. I’m not willing to undo that for a girl you didn’t know existed five minutes ago.” 
He wasn’t. Was he?
“I knew she should exist. And now that I know she’s real, we will do whatever we have to do to bring her home.”
Arguing would be pointless. Thomas had anticipated this moment for too long.  Alex nodded, his mind working angles. 
Like this reaction wasn’t exactly what you wanted: an excuse to do whatever it takes to bring in the perfect Spark. The perfect weapon.
“We can have both. I can make it happen.”
“Then do it. But remember, she’s our priority now. Once we have her, we have the future.”





Q&A

Tell us about Spark Rising.

Spark Rising is a post-apocalyptic adventure set in the southwestern United States of the future. It’s the story of Magdalena Gracey, a young woman with the power to create and manipulate the only form of electricity left in the world, and Agent Alejandro Reyes, a man trained from childhood to be an elite soldier for the ruling government. He’s sent to investigate a report of an illegal Spark living in the desert. But Alex has his own agenda. And if the two of them can learn to work together instead of killing each other, they might have a chance at sparking a revolution…and love.

What inspired Spark Rising? 

In the days before the story came, I’d seen two sets of photos online. The first was an abandoned town in the desert that was being buried by sand. The second was a series of various city skylines from around the world showing what the night sky would look like if there were no lights, no electricity. I was blown away. Because yes, they’re both gorgeous. But the devastation of that loss of civilization…wow. Even in devastation, there would be beauty so long as we are the kind of people who have the capacity to see it. That’s the big "what if?” What kind of people are able to see the beauty?

Do you see yourself in any of the characters of Spark Rising? 

Hmm. Not much, no. I think Lena has some of my negative qualities—the bossiness, the tendency to jump to conclusions. As her story moves on through the greater arc of the series, I think she’ll reflect a little more of me, as she discovers and fights with her maternal instinct. Alex has my extreme pragmatism and love of profanity, also not necessarily good qualities. Jackson? He has too much light in him to be a reflection of me!

What made you decide to end Spark Rising the way you did? 

*laugh* It originally had a very different ending. By the time I'd made other changes that really were very necessary, the ending I wrote originally didn’t work. The ending it has now is actually the third ending written, I think. Those last two chapters changed A LOT.

What inspired the character of Lena? 

Lena came to me fully formed, just a damaged, tough, ballsy, tiny little redhead. I think she’s rooted in my desire to explore life’s complications from that New Adult period of transition and upheaval. Who we love. Why we love. How we choose to express and live with that, even through the dark times. How do we carve out something that is entirely our own, or even believe we’re worthy of it, through all of the demands of society and family? And what is family, anyway?
I also really love exploring issues of perspective—what is the right choice for one person isn’t the same for another, and that’s okay—in womanhood, in relationships, in faith. I like the big, complicated, meaty issues that often cause darkness and angst. They’re the root of so many misunderstandings, but I like mistakes. I believe in second chances. Lena’s damaged heart provides a wonderful way of exploring those themes.

Do you have any thoughts on Alex's behavior throughout Spark Rising? 

Ohh, Alex. *laugh* He’s a badass, broken man. He’s just as damaged as Lena, but he’s dedicated himself to one idea, to one cause, and is willing to do absolutely anything to further it. His love for Lena takes him by surprise. It’ll be really interesting to see how the battle between his sense of responsibility to the revolution that he founded and his feelings for Lena will play out. I think the battle will be as fascinating as his motives.

Were you aware of how Spark Rising would end when you started it? 

Not when I started writing, no. The first chapter came to me and I wrote that in a mad flurry, then I stopped and created a skeleton outline to guide me. So I didn’t know the end when I started, but I had it very soon afterward. I plotted the end of the book and of the series, too.

Do you listen to music as you write, and if so what music? 

I don’t. I have to have general background buzz—the TV going or coffeeshop business—but I can’t deal with songs and lyrics. They distract me. There are too many story ideas embedded in them.

If I’m struggling with a scene, I’ll listen to music when I’m driving and the ideas will flow. I go for a drive and blast the music. The choice of music is really eclectic and depends on character and scene that I’m trying to get into—Lena is all hard rock and R&B, women artists with attitude. Alex is sexy jams. If you think of a song that brings to mind a dark, sexy, confident man smirking and growling at you, I may have used it, or I need it. E-mail me!

Can you tell us about your writing process? 

When I start a new project, I write the first chapter. That gives me a sense of who the people are and what’s at stake. Then I stop and write a bare-bones bulleted outline, including the ending. Then I feed that skeleton outline into my own story diagram that I hand-draw onto a huge sheet of construction paper—all of this has to be by hand. The diagram is where details start to appear, and they're separated by character point of view. Then I can use the diagram to go to Scrivener and create my chapter folders and parse out the details into something resembling a novel outline. They're short, because I need the story arc, but I fill in the details by the seat of my pants.

And then I can write. *grin*

Did you always want to write books when you were a child? 

Yes. I've always been telling stories. Family legend has it that I was kicked out of a denominational preschool because of a story that was particularly upsetting. So, not only was I telling stories, but they were always controversial! I've been writing the stories down since I was able to write.

What book are you reading now? 

I’m reading two books—I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who does that! I’m reading When Dark Falls by Pippa Jay, which is an awesome superhero deco-punk story, and I’ve just started Maven, a New Adult scifi novel by S.A. Huchton that seems amazing.

How about advice for readers?

Oh, gosh…I don’t know. Readers are awesome. They’re the reason I do this, and I have such huge anxiety about their experiences with the book. I know I’m not alone in that. So maybe that would be my advice: remember that authors are people, too, and try to remember to be patient and kind. That’s not to say you can’t have an honest, visceral reaction to something, even if it’s bad. I’ve thrown books across the room, too, and I’ve given honest reviews that were less than ideal. Just perhaps keep in mind that we’re doing this for you, even when we get it wrong.

Do you think you’ll ever kill off some characters? Which characters would you find hardest to part with?

Ohhh, boy. So, it’s a complicated, post-apocalyptic world. And it’s in a state of revolution. I have to assume that not everyone will make it. And it’s going to be extremely hard to part with anyone. I love my characters—all of them. Even the characters that others hate, I try to offer excuses: “Well, you see, he has all of these issues that fuel his decisions…” *laugh*

What genre do you consider your book(s)? 

They are clearly post-apocalyptic/dystopian. I prefer to call them futuristic fantasy. Yes, they’re rooted in scifi, but there is an element of the fantastic that works into them. As far as categories, Ignition Point, the collection of related short stories, straddles the line between YA and NA. I consider Spark Rising to be NA. The series itself will sit on the border of NA and Adult fiction. Lena has a lot to work her way through, but the series will see her grow through her struggles with her identity, fear of failure, and first love.

Kate Corcino is a reformed shy girl who found her voice (and uses it…a lot). She believes in magic, coffee, Starburst candies, genre fiction, descriptive profanity, and cackling over wine with good friends. A recovering Dr. Pepper addict, she knows the only addiction worth feeding is the one that follows the “click-whooooosh” of a new story settling into her brain.

She also believes in the transformative power of screwing up and second chances. Cheers to works-in-progress of the literary and lifelong variety!

She is currently gearing up for publication of Ignition Point and Spark Rising , the first books in the Progenitor Saga, a near future dystopian adventure series with romantic elements, science, magic, and plenty of action.

Author links:

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Blitz : Angeli


Angeli – The Pirate, the Angel & the Irishman by Amy Vansant 

Publication date: June 19th 2014
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy
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Purchase: Amazon | B&N
Once a legendary pirate, Anne Bonny is a Sentinel, a soldier for mankind’s mysterious guardians, the Angeli. Anne will live 1000 years, but in return, she must hunt & neutralize Perfidia, corrupted Angeli who drain human energy to survive. Together with her fellow Sentinel, Con, and Arch Angeli Michael, Anne must face an added threat; a new breed of Perfidia possessed of untold power.

Monsters are only half Anne’s troubles; her stormy love life would make Blackbeard pack up ship and move to Kansas. After losing his corporeal body in battle, Anne’s former lover, Con Carey, visits her by possessing the bodies of humans, often with embarrassing results. In the meantime, Anne’s complicated romance with the aloof Arch Angeli Michael has intensified, but is their love spawned by the magnetic attraction of their powers? Or something deeper?

Can this unusual love triangle work together to protect the world from the cosmic horrors sworn to destroy it?

Chapter One
Sea Isle City, New Jersey. Present Day.
Anne Bonny sat at the outdoor café in Sea Isle City, New Jersey, staring dreamily at the mimosa tree arching above her table. The tree’s fuzzy pink flowers gave her the impression of a Dr. Seuss creation, as if Horton himself had decorated it for a summer holiday.
Anne could hear the rhythmic crashing of the surf, the soothing whoosh a soundtrack to the peaceful setting. Around the restaurant’s wrought iron table, tiny sparrows hopped across the backyard eating area, snatching up every spare crumb like little feathered vacuum cleaners. A block away, a seagull cackled its wild, agitated laugh.
With only a young couple in love cooing to each other nearby, Anne tried to enjoy her hard-earned tranquility. She had decided to take a few days from her apartment in New York City and explore the Jersey, Delaware and Maryland shores. She doodled on a folded map as she pondered her route: Should she pause in Cape May? Or should she take the ferry to Delaware? The last bit of French toast gone from her plate, Anne found herself already wondering where she should stop for lunch.
The female half of the cooing couple stood, scraping her metal chair across the stone pavers. Anne glanced over and watched the girl in the form-fitting tank dress twitch her way into the main building. Anne made brief eye contact with the young man still at the table, flashed him a polite “whoops, we made eye-contact” smile, and then returned to her thoughts.
Anne had just reached for an overlooked crumble of bacon on her plate, when her attention snapped to the sparrows. They flew away in unison, and Anne’s sharp gaze swept the area to find the cause of their unrest.
“Great little arse,” said a man’s voice in an Irish accent.
Anne sat bolt upright and turned her eyes upon the male half of the couple with whom she shared the patio.
The sandy-haired lovebird, still sitting where his girl had left him, met Anne’s curious gaze with a wicked grin. He abruptly stood and dragged his chair over to Anne’s table with a teeth-rattling screech of metal on stone.
The boy released an overly dramatic sigh of satisfaction, plopped back down into the chair now positioned beside Anne, and beckoned the waitress as she exited the café and stepped onto the patio.
“Could I get four whiskeys here?” he asked, dangling his finger over the table and swirling it as if mixing a drink.
The waitress head cocked to the side with surprise. “Uh, sure, I guess…what kind?”
The man looked at Anne, his face beaming like a child’s on Christmas morning.
“Something Irish and as expensive as possible,” he said as he put his right elbow on the table and rested his head in that hand, his gaze never leaving Anne.  “Straight.”
“You can put it on her tab. Or mine. Doesn’t matter really,” he said.
Anne looked at the waitress. “His tab,” she said. The waitress offered them an awkward smile and left to fetch the whiskey.
“Ooh, Annie, you’re still a little evil,” said the young man. “You’re going to stick this lad with my tab.”
Anne’s new table guest sat grinning, thin and pale as an untoasted wafer, but with the fiery eyes of a rebellious imp eager to be unleashed. She’d known the minute she heard the accent that the boy’s body had been appropriated by a friend of hers, Con Carey, who had lost his own corporeal body some years ago. Like a horror movie ghost, Con had a habit of borrowing other people’s bodies in order to communicate with her. Unlike a ghost, the only thing horrifying about Con was his otherworldly ability to consume whiskey.
“Hello, Con,” Anne said. “Did you ask that poor boy if you could borrow his body?”
“Hello, Annie, my love,” Con replied. “Absolutely not. They almost always say no.”
Anne noted how Con’s eyes lit up when she acknowledged him and recalled how thrilled he’d been the first time he’d found a way to use another person’s body. He’d pumped his fists and run around the room screaming with joy until he crashed over a sofa, having momentarily lost control of his borrowed legs.
“How are you? Did you miss me?” he asked.
Before she could answer, Con leapt to his feet and did a few jumping jacks. Wrapped in the young man’s bony frame, he boxed an invisible opponent for a few moments, and then clapped himself on either shoulder, pleased with his performance.
“Featherweight,” he said, flopping back into his chair.
“Featherbrain,” drawled Anne. She paused as the waitress returned to set four whiskeys on the table. Unsure of the appropriate way to dole out four Irish whiskeys between two people so early in the morning, the girl lumped them in the middle of the table.
Con took the first shot and swallowed it down before the waitress could fully release the last glass from her grasp.
“Slow down,” said Anne. “She could have lost a finger.”
“Uhhhhmmmm…” Con groaned, ignoring Anne in his ecstasy as he shot back the whiskey.
Anne watched with amusement as Con licked his lips, tilted back his head and closed his eyes. As a disembodied spirit, not having lips or a throat had cut into his quality drinking time. Anne snatched the second whiskey from the table before Con could grab it, shot it back, and slapped it back into his empty paw.
Con jerked his hand from the empty glass as if it had burned his fingertips. His jaw clenched. He pushed away Anne’s empty shot glass and deliberately clamped his fingers upon the next full shot. He trained his eyes on Anne’s, daring her to make a move for it.
He raised the third shot to his mouth.
With lightning-fast reflexes, Anne snatched the glass from Con’s paw. She put the glass against her lips, threatening to drink it.
“Harpy!” Con roared, slamming his fist to the table. The glasses jumped and clattered on the wrought iron.
Anne froze, allowing Con to hang, and then slowly handed the glass back, a smug grin on her face. Visibly relieved, Con downed the shot.
“Surely, Annie, you know better than to break my heart like that,” said Con, wiping his mouth. “You might have spilled it.”
Anne grinned, unable as always to be annoyed with Con for very long. She was happy to see him again, even if he inhabited the body of yet another innocent passerby. He hadn’t made one of his appearances in months. Still, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do when the blonde girl came back from the ladies’ room expecting to find her boyfriend patiently waiting for her and not chatting up a busty strawberry blonde at the next table. She hadn’t been in a cat fight in ages.
“Ireally wish you would time these visits a little better,” she said. “His girlfriend will be back here any second.”
“I’ll be quick.”
Anne nodded and took some small solace in the fact that Con had waited until the girl had left the table and that he had chosen a boy to borrow. During a past impromptu visit, Con had possessed the body of a young woman and proceeded to give Anne a sloppy kiss in front of a crowd that included the woman’s grandmother. Anne felt lucky the waitress wasn’t currently sitting in her lap.
Anne nodded to the empty whiskey glasses.  “You know what they say; Drinky, Drinky, Little Dinky,” she held up her pinky and waggled it for effect.
Con stopped in mock horror, the last shot nearly to his lips. He put the glass down, pulled out the waistband of his plaid shorts and looked inside. With a shrug, he snapped them shut.
“Sorry, Luv, but it looks as though I might as well drink.”
Anne sighed. “So why are you here, Con?”
“I’ve come to give you a warning,” said Con. “Your pal is on the move.”
“My pal?”
“Michael.”
Con turned his head to feign spitting on the floor in disgust as he said Michael’s name.
“There’s trouble. I haven’t been able to gather all the details yet, but something is afoot.”
“Is that where you’ve been the last few months? Spying on Michael?” asked Anne.
Con raised one of the empty shot glasses, smelled it, and tried to reach his tongue to the bottom to sop up any last drops.
“I said: have you been spying on Michael,” repeated Anne, taking the glass out of his hand and putting it back on the table. Con scowled and pursed his lips with disappointment.
“Among other things.”
Anne played it cool, as if Con’s news meant nothing to her, but her chest felt tight.  She opened and closed her fist several times before Con placed his hand on hers to soothe her jitters. She turned back to him and smiled, realizing what a poor actress she had been.
“You’ll be fine, you always are,” he said in a gentle tone. “I just wanted to let you know to prepare yourself.”
Without warning, Con leaned over and put his hand on the back of Anne’s head, pulling her face to his. He ravished her with a kiss, and Anne thought how strange it was that the kiss felt like Con and not like the stranger whose lips actually pressed against her own.
The smell of whiskey helped.
Anne felt herself giving in to the kiss. It was at that moment that Con left his host and she found herself lip-locked with a very confused young man.
“What are you doing?!” came a screech from across the patio.
Anne’s eyes popped open wide, her lips still pressed against the young man’s. His girlfriend had returned, and now stood, mouth agape, pointing at Anne.
The boy pulled back from Anne’s kiss, holding his arms wide, as if declaring himself safe.
“Wha…?” The boy stood up and put his fingers on the table to steady himself as the full effect of three whiskies and a recent possession took its toll on his 135 pounds of human flesh.
“Whoa,” he said.
The boy glanced down at Anne and then back at his girlfriend, hoping someone or something could explain his disorientation. He looked back at Anne’s memorable cleavage and tried to squelch the involuntary grin creeping to his lips.  He burped, putting his hand to his mouth in surprise when he tasted whiskey.
“I said what are you doing?” said the girl, her tone still a glass-breaking screech.
Anne stood.
“He agreed to test our new line of lipsticks,” she said, gathering her things and beginning to move towards the restaurant’s backdoor. “In order to get you a free sampler kit from us, which I’ll go get from the car now.”
The girl glowered with anger and confusion, torn between free makeup and an implausible explanation for what she had just witnessed. She took a step toward her equally confused boyfriend, tossing her locks with pique.
“Why do you smell like booze?”
“Whiskey flavored lipstick!” Anne called back, attempting to throw the boy a bone. “Irish Rose.”
Anne paid her tab at the register and headed out.
On the street, Anne made her way back to her car and considered what Con had said. Anytime Con noticed Michael acting suspiciously, bad things followed.
Michael was an Angelus, a race of extraordinary creatures whose sole duty was to watch over the welfare of humans. Anne was a Sentinel. She worked for the Angeli as a sort of bounty hunter, helping to track and kill Perfidia, Angeli who preyed on humans instead of protecting them. Anytime Michael called her, she knew a battle lay ahead, and while she had once relished these challenges, since a Perfidian had nearly killed her fellow Sentinel, Con, she’d felt death had become her constant companion.
In addition, Michael and Anne were involved in a complicated romance that only added stress to every exchange between them.
If what Con said was true, Anne was in danger once more. She wished she could fly away from the whole mess, but today, disappearing would be especially difficult.
Her car was missing.
The parking spot she’d been so happy to find had a new tenant and her Jaguar was nowhere to be seen.
“Blast,” Anne swore as she scanned the area.
Across the street, between two beach duplexes, she spotted her car parked on the next block.
Anne scowled. There was no way she could have parked one block over from the restaurant. Perhaps Con had moved the car as a joke before he visited her at the café. That would be like him. Or, perhaps she was going senile. She was slightly over 300 years old. A long life was one of the perks of being a Sentinel, assuming you could stay alive with Perfidia constantly trying to kill you.
Anne cut between the beach houses towards her vehicle, ducking and slipping through a small fence to enter a secluded backyard. Before she could stand upright, the figure of a man appeared directly in front of her.
Anne lacked even a moment to react.
The man raised a small pistol, and shot her directly between the eyes.

Q&A

What is the name of your latest book and what inspired it?

“Angeli – The Pirate, the Angel & the Irishman” is a super-fun urban fantasy/adventure with a good dose of humor and romance. It’s a little Sookie Stackhouse, a little Buffy the Vampire Slayer… but no vampires. Bottom line is it is a fun read. And hopefully infectious, though not in a skin rash sort of way.

I had always been a writer, I was the East Coast Editor of Surfer Magazine for years and a freelancer, but I started to do web design for added income. Then the web took off and I put writing aside for years. About four years ago I had a dream that was the nugget for Angeli, and suddenly realized I hadn’t been doing what I love for over a decade! I started working on Angeli and started my humor blog (http://www.AmyVansant.com) to help me get back into the swing of writing again.

Do you have any unusual writing habits?

Only that I prefer to do it very early in the morning, like 3 or 4 am, when my husband and dog are asleep and I don’t have to fear distractions. My husband and I both work from home and it’s like having a permanently 2 year old wandering around. Gordon, the Labradoodle, is much more mature.

What authors, or books have influenced you?

The authors I love the most are much more serious than I am – Vonnegut, Douglas Coupland – much more literary. They inspire me simply because I love them and I want to write as beautifully as they do and touch people the way they do, even if my approach is lighter. Also, I think I probably started Angeli after reading the first two books of the Sookie Stackhouse (True Blood) series. They were light and fun and I thought “This is just like how I write! Hey… how come I don’t write anymore…”
Then I guess my mind started writing via my dream world before the rest of me caught up.

What are you working on now?

I’m working on a chick-lit humor novel called “Slightly Stalky,” which is the semi-fictional tale of how I stalked and bagged my husband (Spoler alert: I got him). I put so much humor into Angeli and my blog is pure humor, so I thought I’d just write a straight-forward romantic comedy next. Angeli has been well received, so I’m hoping to wrap up “Slightly Stalky” in time for Christmas and start working on the next Angeli book.

What is your best method or website when it comes to promoting your books?

I’ve put an embarrassing large number of hours into building my Twitter following, so that helps get the word out. My next best is begging… a lot of begging for reviews. Begging friends, web design clients, people on GoodReads, people on the street… I try to send 1-3 requests for reviews out a day.
Speaking of which, would you like to write me a review on Amazon? Let me get you the link here… just a sec…
In all seriousness though, I’ll gladly give a free Kindle download to… say… 50 of your readers willing to do reviews? I only ask that they A. not hate books with some fantasy/supernatural elements/romance and B. are very very kind people who would never dream of breaking my heart.

Do you have any advice for new authors?

Keep writing! You’ll never sell what you haven’t written. That’s the only knowable. Get a good proofreader. One that will not only check your grammar and spelling but who will tell you if your chapters are really in a bad order or your plot has more holes than a gopher field. Nobody is going to give reviews to a book riddled with mistakes. I used Nicole at http://www.ncdediting.com/ – she was AMAZING. Also, if your self publishing get a good cover! It makes a difference. I used Donna Murillo: http://dhm-designs.com/ She was also amazing with which to work. I REALLY lucked out finding both of these women.

What is the best advice you have ever heard?

That much of success is perception. You can’t forget the marketing. You could write the best book in the world, but if you or your editor/publisher isn’t out there flogging it, the odds of it selling are very slim. There is a ton of competition and you have to do everything you can. You have to get the reviews. People don’t even take your book seriously on Amazon until you have over 50 reviews. And getting reviews is BRUTAL.
Did I mention I’d love some reviews?

What are you reading now?

Stiff by Mary Roach. Love it. I love fascinating non-fiction. I wish had the patience to research and write it myself. I also just finished two short books by Nick Tory – Johnny 12 Steps and Johnny Vegas. Very funny, quirky little gems.

What’s next for you as a writer?

The goal is to keep selling books and hopefully someday quit the day job. I suppose you’ve never heard that before, huh? I also want to try and write a book every 6 months… but between marketing of the books I already have and work, that might be a tad optimistic.

If you were going to be stranded on a desert island and allowed to take 3 or 4 books with you what books would you bring?

Oh yikes. Oddly, the first thing that came to mind was an old book called “The Dictionary of Cultural Literacy.” I think they publish updated versions now. They basically have everything you should know to be a well rounded person in them. That would kill some serious time.
Probably Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle too.
Maybe my own books so I could really agonize over corrections I’d like to make….
And then I would insist that I’d be allowed to take all these books with me on a satellite phone, which I would then use to call for help!

Amy has been writing and finding other creative ways to make no money since high school.
She is the author of the urban fantasy series "Angeli - The Pirate, the Angel & the Irishman," romantic comedy "Slightly Stalky" (Jan 2015) and the editor and one of the 26 authors of the humor anthology "Moms are Nuts," which has been on Amazon's best-sellers lists since its publication in April 2014.

Amy the former East Coast Editor of SURFER Magazine and freelance writer. Long ago she wrote "The Surfer's Guide to Florida," which is currently out of print because the urge to drive up and down the coast interviewing surfers has long since left her.

Amy is a nerd and Labradoodle mommy.



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