Clock City
Rebekah Dodson
(Realm of Elestra, #2)
Publication date: May 15th 2019
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Steampunk, Young Adult

Since Mom died and left me with my abusive, drunkard of a father I don’t have much of a life. My only sanctuary’s hidden in the woods. At least until I find a jeweled dagger and it transports me to somewhere called Elestra. I seriously can’t believe this isn’t some crazy dream, with mechanical horses, cat people, demons, and even metal dragons.

I just want to go home, but everything is a disaster in Clock City.

Who’s this mysterious girl who appeared in Elestra? Alayna wears strange clothes and keeps complaining about something called a “cell phone.” She even has a demon with her who’s sworn a life debt, and now I’m bonded to her to help save the kingdom.

I’m just Sebastian, a secret tinkerer. How am I supposed to help her, and the rebellion, save the city? My life has flipped upside down, and I don’t know if I have what it takes.

No matter what happens it’s up to us to show the world what freedom truly looks like.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Q&A with Rebekah Dobson:

Name/Pen Name: Rebekah Dodson

Where do you get your ideas? Mostly from my muse, a close friend of mine, and watching people. And maybe a little from my students, lol

What is your writing process like? I get up at 4am most days and write 2500 words. My day starts at 6am, then I teach college classes from 9am-5pm five days a week. Some days it’s hard to get up at 4am, so I have to double up on weekends. Usually I get in about 10,000-15,000 words on a Saturday.

What is your writing Kryptonite? Quick burn romances. I can’t do it. My character talks and talk and fall in love SO slowly. It’s annoying sometimes.

How do you deal with writers block? I travel! Seriously. I take the train often, talk to people, go to big cities. I get tons of ideas!

Do you write under different pen names? Not yet!

When did you write and publish your first book? What was the name of your book? I wrote my frist book, Postcards from Paris, in December of 2013. I was in grad school at the time, and going through some rough things. I really poured my heart and some personal experiences into that book. A fellow students of mine started a publishing company and offered to publish it, and put a TON of faith into my work. Postcards was published on March 6, 2014! I’ve written a book a month ever since!

Who is your favorite author and Why? I love Cassandra Clare’s Mortal Instrument series, but I’m also a huge fan of Stephen King, RA Salvatore, Terry Goodkind, David Gemmel, Nora Roberts, and Charlaine Harris. For India authors I adore Brooklyn Knight, Candace Osmond, and RA Steffan. Their books will ALWAYS be a one-click for me.

How many unpublished or half written books do you have? Probably at least 20. 30?

What kind of research do you do and how long before writing your book? I usually research as I write, to be honest. I rarely know what my characters are going to pull/do. The current series I’m working on it

What’s the most difficult thing about writing characters from the opposite sex? Not much, actually. My bestselling series, The Curse of Lanval, is from my male main character’s perspective, Guillaume Lanval. Most of my romances are from both male and female first person perspectives. I really enjoy writing from the male perspective, actually.

How long do you try to write daily? An hour or two. Some days I can only voice text a few sentences, but I get them in.

Do you read your book reviews? How do you deal with good and bad reviews? All the time. The harsest one was when a reader gave me 3-stars before she “couldn’t remember the book.” That made me cry. I never advertise that book anymore, but I read it every few months and determine to be more interesting than that book. For good reviews I sometimes share them with the world, but primarily I have the same reaction. Every time someone leave me a review, good or bad, I just enjoy the fact someone read it!

What’s your favorite genre to read? Urban fantasy and high fantasy mostly, but I also love historical romances.

Do you hide secrets that only a few people will find or easter eggs in your books? OH yes. Most of my characters are related, and their worlds are fundamentally changed by Gill’s time traveling. I’m just hoping someone figures it out someday.

What was your hardest scene to write? In Postcards from Moscow, my ballerina, Jacqueline, was a pill addict, and I had to write a scene where Vasily, the man who loves her, finds her not breathing on a bathroom floor. He revives her, but then he walks away. It was so hard to write that scene because I wanted them to be together SO bad, but it wasn’t going to happen, not until Jaqui got her stuff together. A close second is the moment that Guillaume loses someone he loves in the my time travel fantasy, Merlin. When I had to kill that character I felt his anguish and I cried all the way through it with him.

Do you write with music in the background or does it have to be silent? I need music!! If it’s a fight scene for a fantasy novel, I’ve got to have some wacky Voltaire or Mary Cromwell or Shyfer James in the the background, maybe a little Cog is Dead or Steampunk Giraffe. I also love my 90’s romance songs (Savage Garden, Backstreet Boys, and Britney Spears) for romances. Sometimes you’ll even heard a little Five Finger Death Punch in there!

Do you have a favorite thing to snack on while you write? Gummy bears. It’s really an addiction at this point…

How much do your readers’ interests influence your writing? SO much. I actually have some fans that suggest directions and I almost always use them. My biggest fan is actually my beta reader now and I love her!

If you could tell your younger writing self anything…What would it be? PLEASE write that damn book and publish it, even though you don’t think you are good enough! I published my first book when I was 30, and I wish I hadn’t waited.

Any advice to other writers? Always get your product as polished as possible. Hire an editor, pay a lot for a cover. Find your tribe of other authors to support you and ask them for advice, often! Don’t pay for anything until people agree that it’s a good venture, otherwise you’ll waste a lot of money and time on poor quality professionals. Also, find your readers, and reward the crap out of them. Don’t lose those precious readers at any cost.

Author Bio:

Rebekah Dodson is a prolific author of over 30 romance, fantasy, and science fiction novels. Her works include the series Postcards from Paris, #1 bestselling Curse of Lanval series, Life After Us series, and several stand alone novels and short stories. She has been writing her whole life, with her first published work of historical fiction with 4H Clubs of America at the age of 12, and poetry at the age of 16 with the National Poetry Society. With an extensive academic background including education, history, psychology and English, she currently works as a college professor by day and a writer by night.

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What We Do For Love
Anne Pfeffer
Publication date: May 21st 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary

Thirty-eight year old Nicole Adams has given up on finding love. Instead, the single mother focuses on the things she cherishes most—her sixteen-year old son Justin, her friends, and her art.

When she convinces a prominent Los Angeles museum to feature a piece of her work, a large-scale installation, she thinks her life has finally turned a corner.

Then Justin brings a girl, Daniela, home to live with them. Daniela’s angry parents have thrown her out of the house, because she’s pregnant with Justin’s child. Shattered, Nicole takes Daniela in and, in so doing, is drawn into the inner circle of Daniela’s family—a frightening world of deceit and violence.

Nicole struggles to keep life going as normal. Forced to deal with people she doesn’t trust or like, fearful for the future of both her son and the grandchild they’re expecting, Nicole wonders if she can do what she tells Justin to do: always have faith in yourself and do the right thing.

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What We Do for Love won the Chick Lit category of the 2019 Next Generation Indie Book Awards, and finalist for Best Cover Design/Fiction!

Add to Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

From Chapter Four.  Justin and Daniela have told Nicole that Daniela cannot return to her own home, but Nicole is nonetheless trying to reach Daniela’s parents.

##

By nine o’clock, Daniela’s parents still hadn’t called back.

Justin gave me a pointed look. Told you so.

Shocked by the apparent indifference of these people, I asked, “How do they know you’re safe? You could be camping under the freeway right now.”

Daniela’s voice quavered. “I’m sure they think I’m fine.” The sadness in her voice tore me up.

“They’ve got to be worried.” The tiny crack in my mind had widened just a bit, and a tremor of … something ran through me… a premonition, maybe? Or maybe just nerves. “Even if you’ve had a disagreement, they still love you. They’re your parents.”

“They’re not worried.”

I tried to keep my tone brisk and matter-of-fact. “If that’s the case, then of course you must stay tonight!”

“Thank you,” Daniela whispered. At my request, she dialed her phone again and handed it to me. I left another message.

“Hello, Viviana. This is Nicole again. Since I haven’t been able to reach you, Daniela will stay the night here, in a separate room from my son. I’ll make sure she gets to school on time tomorrow. Please feel free to call me.” I left my phone number again, feeling my temper rise as I thought of what these parents had done tonight.

“So,” I said, “let’s get ready for bed!” I kept my voice bright and chipper. “Justin, will you move your sheets out onto the sofa? I’ll put some fresh ones on your bed for Daniela.”

By comparison to Justin’s male friends, whose presence resounded through the house like a herd of elephants, Daniela was almost ghost-like, blending into the background and whispery quiet. And eager to please.

“Let me put the sheets on,” she said. “You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“All right, thanks.” I found her an unused toothbrush and an old t-shirt of mine to sleep in. “And here’s a clean towel.”

Justin’s small bedroom still had its blue plaid wallpaper. The bedspread had borne pictures of teddy bears until he revolted in his freshman year of high school, requesting a plain blue comforter. Justin’s stuff filled every corner, covered every surface: music posters, two guitars and a drum, his bicycle, a debate trophy, comic books, and books with art or math and logic puzzles.

“Thank you again.” Daniela drooped as she sat down on the bed.

“Are you all right, honey?” I sat down next to her. “Do you want to tell me a little more about what’s going on?”

The two dogs galumphed into the room just as Justin’s tall, lean frame appeared in the doorway, dressed in the sweatpants and t-shirt he wore to bed. Midge and Margo rushed the twin bed, trying to climb aboard, but I pushed them gently down onto the rug. I put my arm around Daniela as she shuddered and the tears started to fall. She gripped her hands together tightly. “I did something… that my parents didn’t like. My dad especially.”

Justin fastened his gaze on her as she spoke. His bleak eyes reminded me of the time he’d found a dead baby rabbit in the swimming pool. My throat suddenly felt dry, and a chill ran over me despite the balmy evening air.

“My mom would forgive me, but Dad won’t let me live at home anymore.”

“I’m sure he’ll reconsider. You know, once he cools off.” What could this girl have done? Totalled the family car? Burned down the house?

Could she be…?

No way… I wouldn’t permit myself to have the thought. She’s only sixteen.

Justin spoke up, his voice harsh in the silence. “We have to tell her, Daniela.”

Up until now I’d thought, or kidded myself, that Justin was only helping a girl with a problem. Now, the fear arose that it might be Justin’s problem, too.

I held my breath.

“Daniela’s pregnant,” Justin said. “And I’m the father.”

Author Bio:

Hi! I grew up in the desert around Phoenix, Arizona, where I had a bay quarter horse named Dolly. If I wasn't riding, I was holed up somewhere reading Laura Ingalls Wilder or the Oz books or, later on, Jane Eyre and The Grapes of Wrath. Horses eventually faded as an interest, but I ended up with a lifelong love of books and reading.

After college and eight years of living in cold places like Chicago and New York, I escaped back to the land of sunshine. I now live in California, one mile from the Pacific Ocean, with my dachshund Taco. I have worked in banking and as a pro bono attorney, doing adoptions and guardianships for abandoned children.

As a writer, I'd always been interested in children's books, since they had meant so much to me as a kid. I've found I especially like writing books about teens and twenty-somethings, an age where you make so many decisions about who you are and how you want to spend your life.

I love hearing from readers, so please write to me any time at my website www.annepfeffer.com.

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Fire Wolf
H. Danielle Crabtree
(Fire & Reign, #1)
Publication date: May 21st 2019
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

Since the fall of the royal house, the four kingdoms have been divided and at war, leaving many without necessities to survive. Lady Myah Leicht would do anything for her people, even risk herself—the future high lady of Nordlin—to join her friends to raid supply convoys and storehouses belonging to the enemy army against her uncle and his council’s wishes.

Garrett wants nothing more than to be done with the Osten Elite Guard, but his position as master keeps him close to the queen and close the secrets the resistance needs. But only one secret he keeps matters to the future of the four kingdoms.

And that secret could burn Myah’s world to the ground.

Goodreads / Amazon

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SNEAK PEEKS:

The wind picked up, howling through the unsheltered channel. It prickled every inch of Myah’s skin, blasting through her damp clothes. A chill raced up her spine when the gust died.

It was not the wind marking her end, but the cries of the wolves.

Myah would die to their song.

--

“I find you baffling.”

He laughed quietly. “I get that a lot.”

“If you don’t want to blackmail me, then what do you want?” she pushed.

He leaned forward as if to get a better look at her in the moonlight. “To test a theory.”

“And what is your conclusion?” She was curious now, much less afraid, although still untrusting.

“Undetermined …”

--

Garrett’s breaths were becoming ragged. His blood, warm and hot and sticky, dripped down his chest. He could feel the moisture on his skin. He blocked a swing aiming for his head, and then took a knife to his left side. It was shallow, but his muscles knotted. He stumbled backward, lost his footing as he slipped in the snow, and went down hard on his side.

When he looked up, the man’s arms were raised over his head, the blade angled to drive it through Garrett’s chest. His breath caught.

Author Bio:

H. Danielle Crabtree graduated from the University of Oregon in 2004 with a professional journalism degree and worked in journalism as a writer and editor in Oregon and Arizona. She started freelancing as an editor in 2011.
Her poetry has been published in several literary magazines and anthologies, and she wrote with the G10 Writers group. Her first book with the group was published in 2011.
She lives in the heart of Oregon's Willamette Valley with her two dogs. Outside her career in health care and her passion for writing, she enjoys hiking, gardening, and dog training, and she is pursuing a master's degree in public health at Oregon State University.

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Neliem
Clare DiLiscia
Published by: Month9Books
Publication date: May 21st 2019
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

Half the population of the island of Madera are dead, killed by an unforgiving and indiscriminate plague. Oriana dreams of escaping her life of ruthless cruelty from the people who now rule over those who remain. No telling whom the plague will strike next, Oriana means to find freedom for herself and her people. Drawing strength from ancient tales of her enemy, young Oriana transforms herself from victim to warrior with the help of a mysterious and powerful dagger given to her by a kind and dying boy.

Years later, during her enemy’s betrothal ritual, Ezra, a boy she has never before seen, selects her as his mate. With servitude her only option, Oriana accepts the offer. Whisked away to a seemingly perfect world, Oriana discovers sinister secrets at every turn, including the identity of Tristan, a boy with whom she shares an undeniable but impossible connection.

Why would a boy she doesn’t know wish her to be his betrothed? Why does she feel such a strong pull toward a stranger? Someone in Ezra’s family not only knows the answer to both those questions, but also about the dagger Oriana possesses. He will do anything to stop the union. Now, with everything on the line, Oriana turns inward to find the strength she needs to seize the full power of the dagger so that she may protect herself and save her people.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

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EXCERPT:

I cringe; not wanting to confess the extent of my obsession of finding the boy I’ve convinced myself for too long never existed. After I’d miraculously healed from the fever, I went half mad looking everywhere for him. Like a maniac, I searched in every room, closet and under every desk at the schoolhouse for any indication where he might’ve gone. Then I took it one step further. Dressed like Neliem himself, I snuck at the crack of dawn into the Untouchable section of town which we are forbidden to enter. I scourged the marketplace, the temples of their false gods, the fields, the hills, our cave, any place I could think of, going as far as to risk my own life for weeks to find him. Just for the chance to see him and touch him again, I would’ve done anything. Me, who hated to be touched, ached for this boy the way a dying man aches for water in the desert.

Author Bio:

Clare Di Liscia grew up near the hills surrounding Dodger's Stadium. For University, Clare attended KU Leuven, in Belgium. She graduated with a Film Degree from Cal State Northridge, earning Dean's List recognition. Neliem won 1st place HM in SCBWI's Sue Alexander.

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Freshman Sidekick
Ron Tucker
(High School Sidekick, #1)
Publication date: May 13th 2019
Genres: Superhero, Young Adult

Robbie isn’t your normal high school student. He can teleport. And in King City, if you’ve got a superpower, that means you can sign up to be a sidekick, so he does just that.

Wanting to become a sidekick, and hopefully, a fully-fledged superhero one day has been all Robbie’s dreamed about. But like they always say, be careful what you wish for.

No sooner than his first day of high school, does the balancing act commence. Making time for his best friend? Finally getting to go out with his crush? Training with his superhero mentor? Not to mention, there’s a psychotic villain on the loose and his minion seems to want to kill him.

Yeah, high school can suck. Add superpowers to the mix and it can be downright deadly.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

… After years of reading about superheroes, following the ones who had profiles on social media sites, and always keeping up-to-date with the latest sidekick being promoted, you could say I’m a superhero junkie. Not that the rest of the world doesn’t love superheroes. They’re just as famous as movie stars and pro-athletes. Fan clubs, groupies, protestors; superheroes have them all.

“Can you believe it?” Pete asks. “Our first day of high school.”

Before I can answer, a huge guy walks into Pete’s shoulder, almost knocking him down. He has to be at least a foot taller than me, long sideburns, and facial hair. Not just stubble. I’m talking a full-fledged goatee on his chin. If he didn’t have a letterman’s jacket on, I’d swear he was a teacher.

“Watch it, freshman,” he grunts, pushing through and continuing on his way.

“Yeah, awesome.” I roll my eyes.

“Sheesh. I guess we’re at the bottom of the food chain, huh?”

“I guess so.”

I enter my first class and find an empty desk in the back. Pulling my books out of my backpack, I look up as the bell rings, and see Jasmin walk into class. I could call her beautiful, but it’s so much more than that.

It’s like seeing a sunset over the horizon. The rays of the sun shining over the clouds. You could describe the colors, but the words don’t do them justice. Colors you never knew existed, but when we see them, you know it’s something to admire. Something that tells you the universe is a vast and glorious place. That’s what she is.

I haven’t seen her since the last day of eighth grade, but she looks amazing as always. She’s added silver highlights to her wavy, brown hair, which complements her gorgeous hazel eyes. I nearly sigh out loud. She’s maybe an inch or two shorter than me. Liking her as long as I have, I was super embarrassed in sixth grade when she was taller than me. I’m glad that’s over. I came close to asking her out once last year, but I couldn’t spit out the right words. I ended up asking her if she wanted two dumplings. Yeah, brilliant.

Her best friend, Maria, strolls into the classroom with her, and they take two chairs on the other side of the classroom. As she sits down, Jasmin looks over at me, and smiles. I smile back, melting inside, then raise my hand to wave to her.

“Yes?” the teacher says aloud, standing in front of the class.

Eyes turn and stare at me. Jasmin’s eyes widen, jumping back and forth between myself and the teacher. I look up front to find my teacher staring at me with a questioning expression.

“Yes?” he repeats, this time with a stern undertone.

“Oh, uh.” I drop my hand. “No, nothing. Sorry.”  Looking back over at Jasmin, I watch as Maria whispers something to her, and they both giggle. Perfect.

The rest of my first day of high school is uneventful. I have algebra, biology, and my last class of the day is history, with Pete. We’re able to find two chairs next to one another; we take our seats as the bell rings. My phone vibrates, and I pull it out, shocked to see an alert from Mr. Mimic.

“What’s up?” Pete asks, seeing the expression on my face.

“Oh, nothing.”

Mimic: Worm – Priority Level Red.

Me: What are you doing texting my phone?

Mimic: Didn’t you install the Justice Alliance code protector yet?

Me: No!

Mimic: Worm, you need to do that ASAP. But right now, we’ve got bigger problems. Priority Level Red.

Me: Right now???

An abrupt cough almost makes me drop my phone. My head snaps up, and I see my history teacher. His stern scowl is only amplified by the thick, horned-rim glasses sitting across the bridge of his nose.

“Mr. Garcia, is it?” he asks, glancing down at a piece of paper. “No cell phones during my class.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

My eyes find my screen again, and I see Mr. Mimic’s last message.

Mimic: Now Worm! Fifth and Main!

Pete lifts a brow, no doubt confused as to why I’m looking around the room, my brain speeding a mile a minute as I try to find an excuse to leave. Deciding to use ol’ faithful as an excuse, I raise my hand.

The teacher lets out a loud sigh. “Yes, Mr. Garcia?”

“Yes, sir, I’m sorry, but I really need to use the restroom?”

“Class just started.”

“Um, yeah. Sorry.” I give an embarrassed cringe, and bob a little back and forth, hopefully selling the seriousness of my bathroom needs.

Grumbling something under his breath, he returns his attention to his piece of paper, impatiently waving his hand in the air.

“Sorry,” I whisper to Pete.

His expression is puzzled, watching me grab my backpack, and I quickly exit the room.

Stepping outside of the class, I look around, double checking for anyone in the hallways. I should probably use the restroom for privacy, but Mr. Mimic said Priority Level Red. With no one in sight, I focus on my destination and in a blip, I’m on the east side of King City.

As soon as I teleport, I dive to the ground, a car flying by my head and smashing into the building behind me. I crouch low, behind a barrier, taking in the situation and my surroundings.

Fifth and Main is a major intersection in King City, so I know the area well, but right now it looks like a war zone. High overhead, floating above a building, Supron flies, dodging a bomb being thrown at him, which ends up exploding about a hundred feet in the air. As nervous as I should be, I’m even more amped up. This is my first mission, so I need to make sure I make it a good one.

“Wor—” Mimic’s word cuts off, hyper speeding over to me. “Robbie, why aren’t you in uniform?”

“I didn’t know I was jumping into a war zone!” I yell back, trying to talk over another exploding car and falling debris.

His cape waves in the air. Mimic wears a tradition superhero uniform, with a light shade of blue accenting his sides, while his top and pants match his dark blue cape. A huge capital M is emblazoned on his chest, and his short, black hair is combed back. His brown eyes hit me, looking through a mask that covers his nose and the top half of his cheeks. It hides his identity but does nothing to hide his annoyance at me.

“You do remember what a Priority Level Red is, right? What did you think was happening?”

Of course I remember what a Priority Level Red is. He’s made me recite the three levels before our training sessions every time. Every. Single. Time.

Priority Level Green is for common legal issues and important meetings with the Justice Alliance.

Priority Level Blue is an emergency code for instances that are serious but don’t involve supervillains. Bank robberies, high-speed chases, assaults, things of that nature.

And Priority Level Red involve supervillains. Basically, the same as blue, but with superpowers.

“Yes, I remember what Priority Level Red is, but it’s my first day of high school, and I just sat down in history class.”

A huge tire flies over our heads.

“Go change!”

There are a ton of factors to take in when you teleport. Making a connection with the astral plane, proper use of manipulating said plane to create a wormhole, while still taking into account gravitational pulls. For the most part, my body seems to just adapt to those things. Like breathing. You don’t think about breathing most of the time, you just do it. That’s what happens when I teleport.

What I’m trying to say is, even though there are a lot of factors to consider, if you want the super easy way of describing my power, it’s this: point and click. If I can see the spot I want to jump to, or if I’ve been there in the past, then I can teleport there. I have jumped to places I can’t see during my training, but not only is it much more difficult, it’s extremely dangerous.

Seeing an empty lobby across the street, I teleport over to it.

With the commotion outside, the lobby is completely empty, so I strip down to my boxers, pulling out my uniform from my backpack. I’m in pretty good shape if I do say so myself, but it’s kind of embarrassing stripping down to your underwear when you’re basically in a fishbowl.

Even if Mr. Mimic did name me Worm, at least I have a pretty cool uniform. Blue boots with shiny gold pants. I thought it was a little too flashy the first time I saw it, but it’s grown on me. My top is the same color navy blue as my boots, with gold accents down my sides. It looks like spandex, but it’s not. It’s a patented mevlar material that’s form-fitting, and thanks to some superhero-tailor upgrades, highly resistant to rips and tears.

Mimic was even cool enough to get me my own logo designed up, which is an eight-pointed gold star in the middle of my chest. The design is based on the shape that appears on the astral plane if you watch me teleport through an astral-scope.

Laced into my sleeves are wrist guards with some awesome gadgets I’ve been itching to use in a real combat situation, and a hidden belt that fits snuggly under my top. I think I love my mask the most though.

It’s not your typical superhero mask, like the one Mr. Mimic wears. Nope, I’ve got an amazing helmet that covers my entire head, except for my mouth and chin, and a black visor to shield my eyes and conceal my identity. As cool as it looks, the way it works is even better. I wear ear communication pieces when I’m in my uniform, which is similar to tiny hearing aids. All I have to do is tap a button on my comm piece, and the helmet comes alive using nanotech. In a matter of seconds, it covers my entire head. It’s amazing.

A quick glance in the window of the lobby to check out my reflection, and I’m ready to go. Time for my first mission. The rampage is coming down the street, so I run through the doors, and I’m about to teleport to the top of a building to get a better vantage point and take direction from Mr. Mimic when--

BOOM!

Everything goes black.

Author Bio:

Raised on a healthy dose of Saturday morning cartoons, video games, and Captain Crunch cereal (with crunch berries, of course), I write books that capture my imagination.

When I'm not writing, you can probably find me plotting my next story, playing video games, or at the movies with a large Diet Coke and a large popcorn--no butter.

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Winging It
Lisa Gail Green
(Destiny Rules, #1)
Publication date: March 30th 2019
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

Sixteen-year-old Zach discovers his mom is a fairy godmother. But what’s really freaking him out is the fact that he’s a fairy too. Now that his mom’s been injured, he must finish her assignments before the next full moon or they’re both grounded, meaning no wings, no wands, and no position in the Organization of Destiny Fulfillment (ODF). Sure it would suck to lose his newfound powers, but Zach quickly learns there’s far more at stake. Failure also means messing up the lives of the people he’s supposed to help.
Forever.
Between a fairy-trainee who happens to be the girl he’s been in love with since fifth grade, a boss he doesn’t trust, and a gremlin physics teacher that wants to eat him, Zach’s pretty sure even a magic wand can’t bail him out.

Winging It has been a featured book on WATTPAD and here are just a few of the comments from readers:

“ABSOLUTELY AMAZING! BRAVO BRAVO! I sincerely, really loved this book. What was funny is I went out on a wing from werewolf and tried out fantasy and I love it. Your book inspires me to read more fantasy. Excellent story telling.”

“Amazing, absolutely amazing. What a beautiful ending.”

“I love this ending! It leaves just enough loose ends that imagination can fill in the gaps. Whatever happens next, I’m glad I somehow found this amazing book!”

“This was one of the best books I’ve ever read please make a sequel!!”

“I really enjoyed the book! And i spent like two whole days reading it.. i couldnt put it down at all XD

And like everyone else if like to read a sequel… soo….SEQUEL!!”

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Slipping in a puddle under the broken water fountain should teach me to stop gawking at Jenna Macintyre, but I know it won’t. I fell for her when we were ten, and in the six years since, I’ve continued to fall. And stutter. And make an ass out of myself in general.

“Good one, Zachy,” she says, leaning down so that her golden hair swings in my face. She flicks my shoulder, sending shivers down all my nerve endings, straightens up, and heads off toward whatever her next class is. If I had any guts at all I’d call her on all the humiliating things she’s ever said to me, but I don’t. Instead, I wonder if she moves that way on purpose.

Her gaggle of wannabes follow in her wake, blocking the view. Their laughter bounces back down the hall even after I hear the door close behind them.

It’s only after the final bell rings that I realize I should probably breathe if I want to avoid passing out and drowning in an inch of water. So, I shake myself and stand up, leaning on Emmet. I almost forgot he was there. I groan when I feel the heavy material of my soaked jeans clinging to my legs. Nice.

“Loitering now I see, Mr. Slater.” My sixth period Physics teacher’s voice nearly makes me slip again.

“But-” I start.

“Save it for someone who cares. Get to your next class or I’ll be happy to send you to detention.” Mr. Crown slides his Coke bottle glasses up the bridge of his nose and curls his thin upper lip in distaste.

“I had an accident,” I say in a rush.

He raises his eyebrows, taking in my pants, and heat floods my face.

“Not that kind of accident. I slipped in the hall because of the broken fountain.” I ought to threaten to sue.

“That’s what happens when you run in the hallways.”

Is he serious? I draw my hands down over my face, trying to collect myself. “Fine. I’m going,” I say, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

“Watch that attitude.” He slams the door to his room, and I flip him off before turning back to Emmet, the only other person left in the now deserted hall.

“Take good notes,” I say. “I’m out of here.”

“Thank God,” Emmet says. “I thought you were going to actually go to class like that for a minute.”

Author Bio:

Lisa Gail Green writes paranormal and fantasy because she loves to bring life to the stories in her head. WINGING IT, Book 1 of her new YA fantasy series, Destiny Rules, is NOW available. Sign up for her newsletter for more deals and info at LisaGailGreen.com. Oh -- and she would most definitely have a werewolf for a pet if she weren't allergic.

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The Rule of Many
Ashley Saunders
(The Rule of One #2)
Published by: Skyscape
Publication date: May 7th 2019
Genres: Dystopian, Young Adult

Born to a death sentence in a near-future America, rebellious sisters herald a revolution—if they can survive.

Twins Ava and Mira Goodwin defy the Rule of One simply by existing. The single-child law, ruthlessly enforced by Texas’s Governor Roth, has made the sisters famous fugitives and inspirations for the resurgent rebellion known as the Common.

But the relentless governor and his implacable Texas State Guard threaten that fragile hope, as Roth consolidates his power in a bid for ultimate authority.

As Ava and Mira relinquish the relative safety of their Canadian haven to stand against Roth, new allies arise: Owen, a gifted young programmer, impulsively abandons his comfortable life in a moment of compassion, while Zee, an abused labor camp escapee, finds new purpose in resistance.

The four will converge on Dallas for a reckoning with Roth, with nothing less than their destinies—and the promise of a future free from oppression—on the line.

Disobedience means death. But a life worth living demands rebellion.

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EXCERPT:

MIRA

Limos and luxury cars line the extensive circular driveway, stuffed with partygoers ready for the welcoming bash. Mrs. and Mr. Cross have already arrived with much fanfare from their son and his doting employees. I wonder if Ciro’s sisters are here.

I hear him get on the microphone, introducing his unwitting parents onto the stage of the overflowing banquet hall, the governor of Alberta and the mayor of Calgary looking on from the front row.

Everything’s falling nicely into place. If only the man of the hour would show.

I look at my watch: 7:30 p.m. He’s late. Ava’s knee bounces furiously, as if she can shake out her anxiety.

“He’ll come,” I say.

From our hideout in the corner of the foyer, shadowed and easily overlooked, we have the best seats in the house. A perfect vantage point to see and be unseen. Ava scans the budding festivities through the glass walls on our left. I keep my eyes on the glass windows straight ahead, seeing past the dazzling flares from the cars’ headlights, holding out for the first glimpse of the president.

A string quartet begins to play, and an electric energy pulsates through the hotel, enlivening the crowd around us with a giddy exhilaration, and I can’t help but feel it too. Eager, I spring to my feet. I pace up and down our tucked-away corner, checking the time, watching Emery from across the room, waiting on her signal.

“Do you hear that?” Ava asks. She stares up at the ceiling. I move beside her as we listen to the muffled roar of whirling blades slicing the air somewhere above the building.

“A helicopter,” Ava says.

“He’s here.”

We look to Emery, who stands near the entrance, her gaze locked skyward. Guests file past as she removes a headscarf from her pocket, drapes the silk over her distinctive curls, and pulls it into a tight knot at the back of her neck. She folds her right arm over her chest, our cue to move.

I feel, rather than see, Barend steal into place behind us, our long shadow, as we push to the end of the foyer. Pawel detaches himself from the crowd and crosses our path as he follows Emery out the front door. “Lots of luck,” he whispers earnestly. Like luck has anything to do with it. It’s all up to us.

Our target is the oversized clock that consumes the entire wall alongside the vacant concierge desk. Ava stops before the number six, and we slip behind a false door and stride side by side down an empty staff hallway. Three right turns, two left, a final door, and we’re outside.

There are no lights behind the hotel and no people. The night is chilly and moonless, but we find the footpath we were directed to take and make our silent way to the small grove of trees just twenty yards out.

Ten paces in, Ava and I turn from the path and weave through the evergreens until we spot the narrow clearing that is to be our stage. We position ourselves in its center, shoulder to shoulder, and wait. Somewhere to our right, concealed within the trees and darkness, Barend stands guard.

When told of the plan, Emery immediately authorized the private rendezvous. She knows pleading our case face-to-face with the president is the only way. Cameras and screens provide a barrier, Emery said. The media paints you solely as American rebels. Let him see how human you are. With Pawel at her side, Emery is to meet and escort the president here, while Ciro entertains his parents and guests, keeping them safely ignorant inside the banquet hall.

The minutes tick off, and Ava starts to shiver from either the cold or nerves. Or is that me shivering? Ava and I brought no weapons with us, to show good faith. No guns, no knives. Just us, with our naked conviction and hope.

This could be our last stop, a final end to the endless chase. A place to plan and plot and devise our crucial counterattack.

Ava nudges me with a sharp elbow. She points to the trees in front of us. Two distinct shapes emerge, a faint silhouette floating behind.

“Ready?” I whisper needlessly. Ava tightens her jaw, and I ball my hands into white-knuckled fists. I take a big gulp of air and exhale slowly. My breath comes out in swirling smoke, reminding me of a dragon. There’s a fire inside me, and suddenly I feel warm and calm. One look from Ava and I know she feels it too.

We’re ready.

The outlines become faces and bodies. Emery appears first, then President Moore, with Pawel a few steps behind. I stare at Moore, transfixed, my eyes glued to the man who can grant us refuge.

He stumbles forward, as if his own eyes have not yet adjusted to the dark. I search his every feature, looking for any hint of surprise, or shock, or understanding. But his face, though startlingly attractive in the starlight, is blank. Indifferent.

“President Moore,” Emery says, “this is Ava and Mira Goodwin.” He looks at us cross-eyed, his round eyes squinting as he takes us in. We all stand motionless, awaiting his response.

“You don’t look identical to me,” the president finally states, his thin voice magnified in the still night air. “One of you’s slightly taller, the other rounder.”

The leader of the free world opens with an insult. My first reaction is to defend my identicalness. Surprising, when all I’ve ever wanted is to be seen as different from Ava.

“Sir—” Ava and I speak at the same time.

The president laughs. “Ah, there it is.” The ground spins as he turns to leave. “This conversation will be moved to a different setting. Just the twins and me.”

Barend detaches from the shadows. Pawel and Emery enclose my sister and me. Ava grabs my arm, her grip tight enough to bruise.

“We do not agree to any change—” Emery starts, but Moore shouts over her.

“Security!”

Everything shatters, all plans and expectations smashed to pieces.

A gunshot rings out, then two more.

“Run!” Emery yells.

The last thing I see is Ava’s face, twisted in fear and fury.

Then something covers my eyes. My mouth.

I’m thrown over a bulky shoulder, the deafening sounds of a helicopter growing louder with every footfall. With every one of my muffled screams.

I’m shoved against something solid. I reach out, arms flailing, but there’s no one beside me. Ava.

I feel the chopper lift into the sky. Two spinning blades taking me higher and higher away from Common ground.

Author Bio:

Hailing from the suburbs of Dallas, Texas, Ashley Saunders and Leslie Saunders are award-winning filmmakers and twin sisters who honed their love of storytelling at The University of Texas at Austin. While researching The Rule of One, they fell in love with America’s national parks, traveling the path of Ava and Mira. The sisters can currently be found with their Boston terriers in sunny Los Angeles, exploring hiking trails and drinking entirely too much yerba mate.

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Venus Falling
RaShelle Workman
(Immortals, #1)
Publication date: May 1st 2019
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Science Fiction

“Roswell meets The Vampire Diaries in this mashup! Romance. Betrayal. A hot vampire kissing an alien princess?! Be swept away to the wiles of Wyoming and then to the stars in this seriously entertaining, twisted, science fiction/fantasy series.” ~

Betrayal sucks! I should know. On my sixteenth birthday, it was my destiny to become immortal and the next queen of my home planet, Kelari. Instead I was betrayed and sent to Earth where I was given a choice by the gods. Suffocate and die by Earth’s atmosphere or help a human find his soulmate.

Of course, I chose the latter. The decree sounded easy enough until I met the guy. Michael is gorgeous; I’ll give him that. But he’s also an arrogant jerk! No one could possibly love him—least of all me.

But Michael is the least of my problems. There’s a hot vampire after me, determined to make me like him. He’s hard to resist, especially when he’s kissing me. Not to mention a government group whose sole purpose is to hunt beings from other worlds. They’ve found out about my unearthly identity, and despite my human appearance, they are intent on capturing and dissecting me like some kind of a lab experiment.

Thankfully my guardian Zaren followed me to this planet. He’s sworn to protect me. He’s done so my entire life. At least he’s supposed to. But Earth is different than Kelari in more ways than one, and the planet is affecting me like neither of us expected. I don’t think he counted on keeping me safe from my own traitorous heart.

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EXCERPT:

PROLOGUE

When Worlds Collide

Christopher stood on the outskirs of Snow White’s house. He wouldn’t go in. Doing so would cause a hassle he wasn’t ready for. And neither was Snow. Soon though. He leaned against the enormous tree in her front yard, watching the changing leaves fall like colorful rain. Above, the stars twinkled in the clear night sky, as though it had no inkling of the grim trouble on the horizon.

Christopher sighed, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He had come to Snow’s house for one reason. To get his head right. He had plans for Snow. Big plans. Traitorous plans. But for now, he’d been tasked with handling an impending problem of intergalactic proportions.

He closed his eyes against what he’d learned, but for some reason, that only made what he had to do more real. The Vampire Queen had asked him to infiltrate a high school and befriend some particular students. At her request, he’d laughed. He was too old for such an assignment. It didn’t matter that he still looked like a teenager because he’d been changed at that time in his life. He was a vampire, specifically a Hunter, and had been for decades. He could just kill them all. Wouldn’t that suffice?

But the Vampire Queen had other ideas. Plus, she hadn’t asked, she’d demanded. Going against her wishes was detrimental to his health. He sighed again, thinking of all she’d told him. When she spoke, his world had been turned upside down. Similar to the time before he’d become a vampire. Then, he hadn’t believed in the supernatural. Of course, now, he did. But there was more.

The queen told him life existed beyond humans and the supernatural. There were creatures not of this world, and they were determined to make Earth theirs.

He refused to let that happen.

So, he would do as she ordered and head to the wiles of Wyoming. He would join the high school there. According to the Vampire Queen, a princess would be attending. He was to search her out and turn her—make her one of them. But the princess wasn’t from Earth. She was from another planet, though according to the queen she would look human.

He shuddered with excitement at the strangeness of life. How would the alien princess taste? His body hummed in anticipation of her blood in his mouth. He wasn’t afraid. He was hungry. And determined to have his fill of her. The sooner, the better.

Let the hunt begin…

Author Bio:

RaShelle Workman is an international bestselling author. Under this name she writes reimagined fairy tales, science fiction, time travel, and romantic suspense. All of her novels have been listed on multiple bestseller lists, including her BLOOD AND SNOW series, which has sold more than a million copies. Three of her books have been translated into Turkish and several can be downloaded and enjoyed on audio.

NOW AVAILABLE: Blood and Snow is a CHOICE TEXT ADVENTURE game as is Alice in Demonland. Created by Delight Games. Pick them up free on your App Store today!

When RaShelle isn't writing, she enjoys baking, creating new taco recipes and watching Supernatural. She lives in Utah with her husband, three children, and their dogs. Find her online by visiting her website at: www.rashelleworkman.org. And sign up for her newsletter to receive free books and get information on book release dates: http://eepurl.com/chMcej.

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Forgiven Are the Starry-Eyed
Christine Doré Miller
Published by: Evernight Teen
Publication date: April 26th 2019
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

Naïve sixteen-year-old Andrea Cavanaugh is elated when Josh, a charismatic, bright-eyed piano prodigy, becomes her first boyfriend. But the closer she gets to him, the more she realizes that he is not the boy she first fell for. In its poignancy and emotional darkness, Forgiven Are the Starry-Eyed takes you deep into the delicate and devastating web of shame that spirals from the depths of dating violence when dreamy teenage love turns dark. Andrea must find not only an escape, but a belief that she is even worthy of freedom.

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EXCERPT:

My eyelids closed as if they were being drawn down by sluggish, unhurried weights. When I forced them open after several seemingly endless moments, nothing had changed. I could still make out a blurry image of Josh standing nearby, Mr. Thompson’s hands clenched firmly on Josh’s shoulders from behind. There was a crowd, I think, and muffled voices. The steel school locker felt cold against my back and I recognized the familiar feeling that lately seemed to just dwell and ache in my bones. Fear, I think it was, mixed with just enough madness to keep the blood racing through my veins … fast. Too fast.

“Why did you do that, Andrea?” Josh shouted in my direction.

My eyes fell closed again. I don’t remember what else he said. I just remember the feeling of each overly pronounced syllable piercing the air while he said it. I stared through the darkness that danced behind my heavy eyelids. What had I done?

I tried to pry open my hazy eyes to examine the faces of the expanding crowd as they stood, mouths agape. I only recognized a few. There were hardcover music books sprawled open on the tile floor at my feet. Confused, I looked to Josh, but the heavy silence of the room deafened any words he may have been saying. I gripped the ends of my soft, thin hair between my slender fingers and waited. Each thought sunk deeper than the last.

There was a poster taped sloppily against the locker behind me. I turned my head to face it and focused. The ends were curled up and there were ripples in the masking tape adorned to the edges. “Oakwood High School Invitational—TONIGHT” it read in handwritten purple block letters. There was a pixelated saxophone image pasted underneath the words, “Brought to you by Mr. Thompson and the Oakwood High Jazz Band.” I brought my hand up to trace the edges. The poster board felt crisp and thick under my fingertips. I could smell the aftermath of the permanent marker. The loud reverberating voice behind me got softer until it resembled a deep echo I could easily ignore. I started to pick at the tape from the bottom left corner of the poster until I felt the sticky residue ball up underneath my fingernail.

Suddenly the life reentered my body in one abrupt breath when I felt a strong tug on my arm. I turned and saw Ethan Marks. Everyone else was gone. Had it been minutes this time? Hours?

“Andrea! Come on,” he barked at me, interlacing my arm, tucking it quickly under his. He jerked me to a standing position and pulled me down the hall, speeding up his gate as I stumbled to catch up.

“Where’s Josh?” I asked worriedly, but he didn’t answer. We were silent as we walked through the empty hallway. I lifted my gaze, trying to catch Ethan’s eye, trying to read his thoughts. His light blue eyes, usually sparkling with laughter, were steely and somber as he charged forward, dragging me with him, away from the wreckage I’d caused.

He stopped short and took a deep breath. His eyes were unyielding and dismal as they studied me, and slowly his frustration melted into a deep sadness.

“What happened, Andrea? What was that back there?”

“I don’t know…” My voice began breaking. My thoughts were muddled beyond recognition and I couldn’t form the right words, or any words, to explain.

Ethan wrapped himself around me in a gentle, firm embrace. It felt kind. And warm. And wonderfully different. My muscles unclenched for the first time in months, and I didn’t know I was crying until I tasted the salt as it stained my face. I buried my head into Ethan’s chest as he tightened his hold on me. I wanted him to say something, to tell me everything would be all right, but we both knew better. So we just stood there, Ethan supporting me as I clasped the back of his cotton t-shirt between my fingers.

After a few minutes, I fully returned to my body as my breathing calmed. I steadied my stance and took a step backward, shakily holding Ethan’s forearms as I regained my balance. Wiping smudged mascara from my pale face, I met Ethan’s eyes and quickly looked down, fixating on a crack in the tile below me.

“Hey,” he started, “Andrea … it’s…”

“I’m okay. Ethan, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to … I’m sorry I … ugh your shirt.” I motioned to the tear stains on his light green tee that crept from his chest to his shoulder.

“Oh God, don’t worry about that. Andie, I just…”

“It’s fine.” I wiped my face and took a deep breath. “Thanks,” I said, squeezing Ethan’s hand and looking in his eyes sincerely, so he knew I meant it. “I should go. But thanks.” I shook my head and turned around to walk back into the havoc and face what I had done. I felt Ethan staring at me as I left. He was just another person whose life would’ve been better if he hadn’t met me. I swallowed, took a breath, and kept walking.

It was over for now, that latest incident, and there was no way to tell when there would be another one … but there would definitely be another one. I was too broken for it to be any other way.

Author Bio:

Christine lives in the Los Angeles area with her husband and their two children. She works full-time as a senior marketing manager for a large media company and holds a Bachelor's of Business Administration degree from Western Michigan University where she studied marketing. Growing up in the chilly midwest, she developed a deep passion for dramatic writing and alternative music at an early age, which still peaks through in her adult-corporate-mom life today. Forgiven Are the Starry-Eyed is Christine's debut novel.

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