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Qualify

9/28/2018

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Qualify
Vera Nazarian
(The Atlantis Grail #1)
Publication date: December 20th 2014
Genres: Dystopian, Science Fiction, Young Adult

The Atlantis Grail has been optioned for development as a feature film series and/or TV series.

You have two options. You die, or you Qualify.

The year is 2047. An extinction-level asteroid is hurtling toward Earth, and the descendants of ancient Atlantis have returned from the stars in their silver ships to offer humanity help.

But there’s a catch.

They can only take a tiny percent of the Earth’s population back to the colony planet Atlantis. And in order to be chosen, you must be a teen, you must be bright, talented, and athletic, and you mustQualify.

Sixteen-year-old Gwenevere Lark is determined not only to Qualify but to rescue her entire family.

Because there’s a loophole.

If you are good enough to Qualify, you are eligible to compete in the brutal games of theAtlantis Grail, which grants all winners the laurels, high tech luxuries, and full privileges of Atlantis Citizenship. And if you are in the Top Ten, then all your wildest wishes are granted… Such as curing your mother’s cancer.

There is only one problem.

Gwen Lark is known as a klutz and a nerd. While she’s a hotshot in classics, history, science, and languages, the closest she’s come to sports is a backyard pool and a skateboard.

This time she is in over her head, and in for a fight of her life, against impossible odds and world-class competition—including Logan Sangre, the most amazing guy in her school, the one she’s been crushing on, and who doesn’t seem to know she exists.

Because every other teen on Earth has the same idea.

You Qualify or you die.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play / Smashwords

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Make sure you stop by Vera’s YouTube Channel where you will find fun videos of panels including the TAG Fan Discussion Panel where she announces the film option and explains the process of how a book gets optioned for film by Hollywood!

– TAG Fan Discussion Panel video (with film deal announcement): https://youtu.be/3dYCiCj5bZU
– Alien Invasions and Apocalypse Panel video: https://youtu.be/-AQlMs5R8ps

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EXCERPT:

March, 2047.

Today is a day like any other day. Only it’s not.

Today the Qualification tests begin—at all designated schools, and public sites in remote places where they don’t have schools, all across the country and around the world—and everyone in my family is trying to pretend things are as usual.

I am at the messy kitchen counter chewing the breakfast scrambled eggs while the smart wall TV is blaring in the living room. Mom has her back turned and she is leaning over the stove making another skillet, which apparently is burning. I watch Mom’s fragile stooped back, the collar of the flannel pajama top, and the yellow cotton scarf covering her head, bald from the most recent round of chemo. The air is thick with garlic and scalded toast and things unspoken. No one else is up yet.

“Need some help burning the house down, Mom?” I say, in-between tasteless bites. Normally I love cheesy garlic eggs, but not today. Today, nothing has a taste. Especially not my forced humor.

“Thanks,” she says, without turning around. “But no, I think I am managing just fine with the arson.”

“M-m-m-m,” I say. The skillet makes another grand hiss.

Voices of various morning news show talking heads sound from the living room TV smart wall. “Qualify or die” is repeated often. I imagine there’s a running marquee with that phrase, interspersed with stock tickers and national weather and the continuing coverage of the mystery of a missing plane that disappeared thirty-three years ago, while the footage of the asteroid and then the Atlantis ships hanging in the skies like balloons among the clouds is running on repeat in a small lower window of the screen. Unfortunately that’s the spot of the smart wall surface with the greatest number of bad pixels. Our old wall needs an upgrade, but it’s not going to happen now that the world is about to end.

They’ve been showing the same footage for the last three months. The asteroid is dramatic, a blazing white monster against black space. It’s hurtling at us head-on. And then it’s always followed by the video clip of the same famous spaceship disk, silvery metallic monolith, miles above the New York skyline. Most of Manhattan ground level is two feet underwater these days, but the skyscrapers remain active centers of business and make for a dramatic backdrop amid the street canals congested with taxi speedboat traffic. There are hundreds of other spaceships of course, all around the country and the world, but they only show the definitive New York one, with the Empire State Building in the frame. The ones here in Vermont, over Burlington, Montpelier, and St. Albans, don’t warrant national coverage.

George comes into the kitchen. His dark brown hair is sticking up more than usual, which means he’s been tossing and turning all night, and probably had very little sleep, much like me. He looks bleary-eyed too, and his good-looking angular face is stuck in a frown. He’s wearing black jeans and a grey hoodie.

“Hey,” I mumble at my seventeen-year-old older brother, and he only gives me the hard thoughtful look. How well I know it, since it’s the same look that I’ve seen in the mirror this morning as I tried to comb the snags out of my own brown hair, long, wavy and unruly, and stared into my hard blue eyes. Grumpy and thoughtful runs in our family. Or at least with some of us. George and I are alike that way, prone to serious, prone to scary quicksilver moods interspersed with sarcasm. And now that Mom’s really sick, we stopped laughing altogether.

Good thing our two younger siblings don’t particularly share this hang-up. Twelve-year-old Grace has always been a giggle machine and chatterbox—though lately she gets weird anxiety attacks at night and has trouble falling asleep, then can’t wake up on time in the morning, and is always late. Dad thinks it’s because she is right on the border of the cutoff age for the Qualification, and it can go either way for her today. So she’s been quietly freaking out.

As for Gordon, fourteen and sure of himself, he just hums whatever’s playing in his earbuds, and smirks a lot, also quietly, even when he fiddles with his art and woodcrafts stuff. Gordie is convinced he will not Qualify, but he claims he does not care—which is of course crazy, but if it makes it easier for him to deal, then what can be said?

“Have some eggs, George,” Mom says. “Grab a plate.”

“I’m not hungry.” My brother pours himself a glass of cheap apple juice.

“Yes, you are. You’ll need it. You can’t run all day on that sugary swill. And it’s going to be a very long day.” Mom turns around and grimaces, looking at the transparent yellowish baby-food liquid that George loves so much. Mom’s skin has an unhealthy grey tint, and at the same time her face is reddened by the heat of the kitchen stove. Both her hands are shaking slightly with the usual tremors. But there is determined focus in her watery blue eyes. I stare at her and see the effort she is making. Margot Lark, my mother, is the strongest person I know.

“You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be cooking.” George frowns and gulps down half a glass of juice at once. I watch his Adam’s apple move with each swallow, in tandem with the muscles of his lean neck.

“I am not cooking. You call this cooking?” Mom smiles, throwing me a wink, in an attempt to get me to make my usual sarcastic commentary that indicates I still have a pulse.

“It’s pretty good, actually,” I say, making a show of forking a large piece and chewing and swallowing with enjoyment, even though I am tasting nothing and my insides are filled with rocks. “Where’s everyone else?”

“I heard Gee Three flush the toilet.” George reluctantly takes a plate and Mom dumps half a skillet of cheesy yellow eggs onto it.

In case it’s unclear, we’re the Four Gees, in order of birth: George, Gwenevere, Gordon, Grace. I still don’t get it why our parents decided to use names starting with the letter “G” for naming all their kids. Mom says she wanted a neat musical pattern to it, and for us to sound “elegant.” Mom is a classical opera singer—or was, before she got sick—so “elegant” is important to her. Dad says it was an old tradition on his mother’s Italian side of the family to use the same initial letter. Honestly, whatever. But everyone in school now calls us the Four Gees, and we’re stuck with it.

“Gracie still in bed?” Mom continues, without glancing at George.

“You bet. Want me to go drag her out?”

Mom shakes her head, wipes a dot of skillet splatter off her nose with the back of her hand, still holding a greasy spatula. “No, let her sleep a bit longer. Your father will get her when he comes down. Give them another fifteen minutes. And now I want you to eat.”

George shrugs. “Whatever. She’ll make everyone late again.”

“No. You’ll be fine.”

I am still chewing the eggs, swallowing them dutifully like lumps of unknown stuff, and now I feel a familiar pang of fear twist my guts.

We’ll be fine. Somehow hearing this makes it worse, brings it all home.

Today’s the day. The day we’ve been prepping ourselves for, emotionally, psychologically, for weeks and months. And when I say “we,” that’s pretty much everyone on this planet. Teens and their parents. And all the people who care about them. And really, everyone else too, since they get to watch. They get to find out—even though they themselves are out of the picture, out of the running—they get to witness us make it or fail.

Today we Qualify for rescue, for Atlantis.

Or we don’t—which means we’ll die together with all the rest of the world when the asteroid hits Earth, in about nineteen months from now. . . .

There’s no way to stop it.

But at least for some of us, there is Atlantis.

Turns out, Atlantis is not a myth. It’s ancient history. There really was a great continent by that name in ancient times, somewhere in the middle of what we now call the Atlantic Ocean, spanning the infamous Bermuda Triangle, the Bahamas, and beyond, and it was home to a very advanced high-tech civilization that stretched around the globe. Supposedly, they had computers, the internet, super-medicine, weapons of mass destruction, probably gaming consoles, and all kinds of other incredible or obnoxious stuff even more sophisticated than our own modern equivalents.

And then something happened. Maybe they did it to themselves—basically ruined the planet, kind of like what we’re doing now with the environment and other species, the out-of-control pollution, carbon dioxide imbalance and resulting cascade of climate change. Or maybe it was Mother Nature, at least in part.

Because at some point more than twelve thousand years ago, something huge and terrible took place—a mega-cataclysm on such a scale that it caused a whole continent to disappear without a trace, in earthquakes and floods and who knows what—and wiped the high-level civilization off the face of the planet. To escape this global disaster—we are told—the people of Atlantis used their advanced technology to leave Earth and flee to the stars. They eventually established a human colony on a habitable planet.

They called this colony planet “Atlantis,” or whatever’s the equivalent in their language, in memory of their own ancient roots on Earth, to honor their native civilization and the terrestrial continent of their birth that started it all.

And now, after all these thousands of years, they’re back. They returned to Earth, their ancient home world, and they are here to help. That is, the distant descendants of the original Atlantean colonists are here to help. They claim to be one hundred percent human and supposedly not all that different from ourselves—if you don’t count the thousands of generations of separate evolution and branching off to live in an alien environment. Yeah, right.

Anyway, the Atlanteans share our DNA and they’re our cousins. And, just like cousins, it makes them either weird or welcome guests.

Right now, they are desperately welcome and desperately needed. The asteroid brought them here—or, like some paranoid people in the media say, maybe “they brought the asteroid.”

Whichever it is, at this point, Atlantis is all we’ve got.

When the news of the lethal asteroid first broke, months ago, almost simultaneously the Atlantean spaceships appeared in the skies all over the world. It’s as if they’ve been watching us, and waiting to make first contact. The asteroid just gave them the excuse.

Okay, at first it was a huge global mess. World governments going into panic mode and military overdrive, people on the streets screaming about alien invasions, religious fundamentalists having a field day, scientists having aneurisms, stock markets crashing worldwide, to the tune of billions.

But once the Atlantean shuttles landed, and we saw them to be human and not little green men or big green lizards, it was okay. They met with representatives of governments, the United Nations, and were received with caution and eventually with open arms. “We are you,” they told us in various languages of Earth. How they knew our languages is unclear, but it’s probably some kind of advanced tech, or they’ve been listening in on us for far longer than we know. They explained who they were—which is kind of insane if you think about it, all that mythic stuff that Plato wrote about is mostly true—and demonstrated some of their amazing technology.

Only it wasn’t all that amazing when it came to the asteroid.

Yes, they tried moving it and changing the path of its trajectory, and all kinds of other advanced science stuff, in conjunction with global space agencies and the three International Space Stations we currently have—the largest one in Earth orbit, a second small one on the surface of the Moon, and the barely functional newest one on Mars. They even landed on the asteroid’s surface and drilled and took samples. But nothing worked, at least not enough to make a difference. The asteroid is going to hit Earth and it is going to cause nuclear winter at best. And at worst—well, let’s just say there may not be much of this planet left after the impact. . . .

However, not all is lost. Because the Atlanteans are going to save as many of us as possible and take us back with them—back to the colony planet Atlantis, a fertile blue-green world that’s supposed to be beautiful beyond belief, with a golden-white sun and not one but three moons.

To that effect, they have brought enough spaceships to carry millions of people—ten million, to be precise. It sounds great but means they can only rescue a very small portion of the general Earth population of eight point five billion—no more than can fill their present fleet of monolith silver ships, since there is no time for multiple trips between Earth and Atlantis before the asteroid strikes.

There is only one condition for rescue. Those lucky few that get to board the Atlantis ships have to be young people between the ages of eleven and twenty—teenagers.

Capable, talented, special teenagers.

The best of the best on Earth.

And the only way to determine who these teens will be is to make them pass Qualification. . . .

Qualify or die.

The smart wall in the living room is playing TV snippets of a canned interview with the President. Later tonight she will address the nation live. . . . But for now it’s old footage. President Katherine Donahue is speaking in her usual droning and soothing voice that’s powerful and at the same time conciliatory, in that nasty mixture that only politicians manage. “Our children and we must be brave together, but rest assured, no one’s giving up” and “we hold them in our prayers as Qualification looms” and “the ultimate survival and benefit of humanity might ultimately depend on well-orchestrated air strikes” are some of the phrases heard.

Same old junk they’ve been saying for months, as soon as they figured out that nothing substantial could be done to stop the asteroid, and that the Atlanteans are not all-powerful after all, despite what everyone hoped.

Thing is, the governments, the global leaders, the media, the scientists, the talking heads—they all feel the guilt-ridden need to keep talking, keep trying, even up to the last, even as the world goes up in flames or ash clouds or whatever. “Vaporware Hope,” as Dad calls it, is one way to fill up the void between now and the end.

Sure, there’s Qualification. But for the human spirit that’s just not good enough. To that end, there are also numerous space missions being prepped by the United Nations and private conglomerates, by individual governments and science agencies. Everyone’s building shuttles, rockets and “payload delivery systems,” whatever that means, to see if they can blast the asteroid into manageable bits or move it out of the fatal earth-contact trajectory. Meanwhile, others are building spaceship arks, just to get off the planet—kind of like the ancient Atlanteans themselves did, thousands of years ago. I guess they think, maybe if they can just get far enough away from the blast and resulting atmospheric turbulence, the Atlanteans might guide them the rest of the way?

The Atlanteans observe these various efforts sadly, and have indeed volunteered to assist to the best of their abilities. But the reality remains grim, there’s not all that much that can be done, at least not for the majority of living beings on Earth. The asteroid is huge and supposedly made up of mostly heavy metals and some other newly discovered stuff that makes it pretty much impossible to move or damage—or so they say. And as for escape, there are simply too many people, animal species, and too few ships.

President Donahue’s words are cut off briefly with video-bytes of breaking news, basically public unrest worldwide, demonstrations around school buses that are supposed to take us all to the Qualification sites, various local police forces in riot gear, and people screaming and throwing rocks and demanding justice. “Please! Just save my baby!” a woman somewhere in the Midwest is crying in a crazed voice of despair. “What good are my tax dollars with all your idiot scientists and useless military and failed national defense? Why can’t you nuke that space rock and save us!”

The stairs creak softly under Dad’s familiar steady footsteps. He comes down, fully dressed in his nice beige blazer, black shirt, brown slacks, tweed vest. And he’s wearing a tie, which is a rare thing. My father, Charles Lark, is the epitome of academia, with his rimless spectacles, somewhat tousled, wavy brown hair and greying temples. He is a professor of classics and history at the local University, and is exactly what you might think that means. Smart, and a little eccentric, and living mostly inside his head, his lesson plans, and research, with plenty of oddball stories and trivia to tell to his kids.

“Let’s please turn the awful TV off,” Dad says tiredly. He is bleary-eyed too, and he is immediately looking at Mom.

“Good morning!” Mom throws him a cheerful look and turns her back again. “I thought all of you might want some real breakfast today. Coffee’s ready.”

“How are you feeling? You really shouldn’t be up so early, straining yourself.” Dad goes directly for the coffee maker.

“Are you kidding? This is good for me. Besides, I would never miss seeing all of you off today, of all days.”

“Why, what’s today?” George says grimly.

From the living room now comes the familiar voice of the Atlantean Fleet Commander giving his now famous inspirational speech to the United Nations. The voice is soft, rich and musical. It is pleasant in timbre despite the strange lilting accent, and the Atlantean is speaking perfect English. Which is all kind of amazing. And yet it makes my skin crawl with new pangs of fear. Because there’s all that strange, leashed power in that voice, and it’s held back somehow. How do I know this? I don’t, I have no idea. But Commander Manakteon Resoi (try saying that three times) with his pleasant, sonorous voice, his fixed handsome face, metallic-golden blond hair and contrasting black eyebrows that seems to be typical of his ethnicity, gives me the creeps. Especially when he talks about “humanitarian efforts amid failure of hope” and “technological impetus” and “a new era for Earth and Atlantis.”

“I hate that Goldilocks guy and his BS,” George mumbles.

Goldilocks. That’s the derogatory term being used lately to refer to Atlanteans, because supposedly they all color their hair metallic gold, which is a fashion statement. Or maybe it’s an indicator of rank. No one’s sure. Apparently, gold’s so common and abundant on Atlantis, that it’s considered a base metal. . . .

In that moment, the stairs groan as Gracie and Gordie come downstairs one after the other, Gracie trailing. My younger brother Gordon is slight and skinny, lacking the sinewy strength and height of George, and with brown hair that’s several shades lighter and so short it’s almost buzzed. He’s wearing his usual dingy jeans and faded black sweatshirt with paint stains on it. And his rimless glasses have dirty finger spots you can see from several feet away.

Gracie is last. She is a younger version of me, tall and slim, except without any curves and with straight long hair that’s dirty blond instead of dark like mine. Gracie is dressed up in pastel pink skinny jeans and a black sweater with sequins. She is wearing black eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss, and gaudy plastic bangles on her wrists. Normally Mom would say something about the eye junk and the lip gloss, but today Grace Lark gets to wear whatever she likes—whatever gives her strength.

“All right,” Mom says. “Everyone, get plates, these cheesy eggs are pure magic!”

“Thanks, Mom. Pile it on.” Gordie heads right for the kitchen counter and pulls up a chair, while Gracie stops in the middle of the kitchen and stares. Her face is very pale, and she looks sickly, despite her mascara and lip gloss. Or maybe because of it.

“Gracie, honey, don’t waste time, please.” Mom picks up a clean plate and starts filling it.

“I don’t want any eggs.”

Dad sits down nearby at the small side table with his mug of coffee and a plate of eggs. “Your Mom got up early and made the breakfast, and you should eat it.”

Grace is frowning. “I hate eggs, and I’m not really hungry.”

“Okay.” Mom sighs. “How about a banana and toast? You need to eat something today. You know you do.”

“We’re out of bananas,” I recall. “Gracie, come on, why don’t you just eat the eggs, just this once, okay? They’re really good! Yummy-yum-yum! Protein and fuel!”

Gracie shrugs. I can’t believe she is this quiet. She’s not even calling me an idiot.

“We have ten minutes,” George says. “Move it, Gee Four.”

Gracie silently slips onto a chair at the counter and reaches for a slice of toast.

A few minutes later we’re in the old minivan, headed for school, with Dad at the wheel. We still feel Mom’s tight desperate hugs and ringing-hard kisses on our cheeks. In my mind, she’s still standing at the porch, waving, and her eyes are red and swimming in tears as she watches us drive away. If we Qualify, this will be the last time we ever see Mom. Already I am fixing this image of her, searing it into memory.

Usually George drives us in his peeling truck, but today Dad is bringing us in, as if to make sure we are delivered properly in time for the Qualification tests. All our duffel bags are packed in the trunk, in addition to the usual school backpacks. Everything’s according to the official Qualification instructions that have been handed out, weeks in advance, by the schools that are designated RQS, or Regional Qualification Sites. Our bags contain a basic travel kit, a change of clothing, and a few personal items that are up to us. The assumption is, if we advance in the Qualification preliminary stage, we will be taken directly to the Regional Qualification Centers where the next stage of the process will take place. And we don’t get to say goodbye to anyone.

My duffel bag has a few of my favorite books including The Iliad, The Odyssey, The 101 Dalmatians, and The Birthgrave. Okay, it has a lot of books, and is heaviest, almost exceeding the forty pounds limit. That’s because these are actual honest-to-goodness books, printed on paper. Yeah, you heard that right. Some of them are rare collector editions from Dad’s library. Dad often says that an electromagnetic pulse or EMP disaster can strike any moment and destroy our digital information storage capability, so he’s been hoarding the paper print editions like precious treasure for most of his life. His personal library is amazing. And now here’s my chance to save some of those classics before the asteroid takes them first.

In addition to the load of books, my bag also has a small pouch of trinkets. There are family photos, a tiny rose crystal Pegasus figurine, and a sterling silver dancing fairy locket my parents gave me for my sixteenth birthday a few months ago. It’s not electronic-enhanced smart jewelry, but it has heart.

George has chosen to pack close to nothing of personal value, only an extra pair of running shoes and some flat rectangular thing wrapped in brown paper, plus a bunch of paper books for Dad’s sake. In contrast, Gordie’s duffel has micro-bead CDs, rare sheet music, and his skinny Backpacker travel guitar, in addition to his favorite weird quartz pieces from his extensive rock collection, a purple geode, a Swiss Army knife, a portable color pen-and-pencil art box, and a sketchbook. As for Gracie, she has taken her costume jewelry including a pair of latest version smart earrings, a cosmetics pouch, and her flute. And yeah, more of Dad’s books.

I stare outside the window at the bleary landscape. It’s March, but snow is still on the ground, and the sky is overcast.

However, as I stare southeast, the Atlantean ship in the sky over St. Albans can be seen in the corner of the window, through the tall pine and maple trees. From this distance it looks like a flattened weather balloon, silvery metal. In reality, I know it is massive, almost a mile in diameter. It hovers, motionless, silent, eternal.

Gordie, Gracie, George, my Dad, all of us glance at it periodically.

George is up in the front passenger seat next to Dad, and he voice commands the car radio on. Immediately there is a blast of riot noise, and the radio deejay comes on with frenzied commentary. The mayors of Chicago, St. Louis, Dallas, and Inland Los Angeles are being interviewed about the ramifications of crowd control and widespread urban looting, and next up, expert practical advice from a pop psychologist at something dot com: “Five Tips for Teens—how to maximize your chances to Qualify today.”

“Oh great, do we have to listen to this?” Dad says.

George invokes the scan function on the radio and it jumps to a music station.

“No, don’t turn it off!” Gracie clutches the back of George’s seat. “I want to hear the five tips!”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes I do!”

George groans.

Gordie just stares out the window with blissful indifference and his earbuds are crackling with his own entertainment.

“All right.” Dad is turning off the main highway onto a smaller road that’s near our high school and Gracie’s middle school, both in the same complex. Our schools are a designated Regional Qualification Site. The traffic is busier than usual, as parents from other school districts are dropping off their children, and everyone wants to be on time. Car horns are blaring. We make the turn into school grounds and the rows of yellow buses are already lined up in the parking lot, ready to take those of us who are lucky enough to pass the preliminaries on to the next stage of Qualification, hours later.

“You want five tips?” Dad says seriously. “I’ll give you five tips. Number one—”

“I don’t want your tips! I want what that program was going to say!” Gracie’s voice rises in that same whiny awful noise that has been produced by her for weeks now, whenever something doesn’t go her way.

“Oh, jeez—” George shakes his head.

“I want to hear Dad,” I say.

Gracie turns around and glares at me. Her hand is still clutching the back of the seat in front of her with a white-knuckled grip.

“Speak fast, Dad, because we’re almost here.”

I see my father’s sad, drawn expression reflected in the rear view mirror. He looks old suddenly, old and exhausted. He takes a silent breath and pushes his spectacles up his nose. “Tip number one—be yourself. Number two—do the best you can under the circumstances and never let fear control you and make you freeze. Number three—okay—” He pauses and I see him make the tired effort to say something constructive and hopeful. “Number three—listen to your gut instinct, always. Your gut is one smart buddy there. Listen to it. Number four—never give up. Never, ever, ever, times infinity. Number five—make the choice that will ultimately make you feel good inside about yourself—as a human being. That’s always the right choice.”

“Are you done?” Gracie says.

Dad sighs. “You know how hard it is for all of us, Grace. Take a big breath. All right, we’re almost there.”

“Thanks for the words of wisdom, Dad. That’s actually gold in them thar hills. I bet you wrote it up last night in your lecture notes. Am I right?” George mumbles while looking straight ahead, as he begins to get ready to unbuckle his seatbelt even before we are parked.

“Yeah, well,” Dad says. “What if I did? Couldn’t let you all go without saying something brilliant to help you remember your old man by. There’s actually more, but I thought the ‘five tips’ gave me a nice excuse to summarize. Want to hear the rest? No? I didn’t think so. It was worth a try.”

The minivan is still crawling along in a line of cars through the parking lot and onto the football field that has been designated as supplementary parking. Security guards stand, waving the cars into parking spots or designated drop-off points. There are also several media news vans and vehicles with video and sound equipment. Even now, they are filming us live. It’s weird to think, but all that’s happening right now is being recorded, is breaking news. . . .

We stop not too far from the side entrance to the main school building, in the yellow zone. Kids and parents are everywhere, opening cars, carrying bags. Many people are crying.

We get out, and Dad pops the trunk, which sails open slowly.

Shivering in my jacket from the chill morning air, I stand waiting for George to get his duffel bag, while Gordie has his already. Grace stands right behind me, breathing down my neck.

Dad stops the engine and comes around to help us. Or more likely he is gathering himself for the big goodbye.

I glance around, seeing students I know, other classmates, heading up the stairs and inside, past security. Carrie Willis, a girl from my class rushes by with tear-reddened eyes, dragging a bulky, ugly purple-and-orange travel bag that’s rolling along on squeaky wheels. Her mom and some other relatives watch below, waving and sobbing.

Gordie watches her also, shakes his head and adjusts the strap of his heavy duffel bag, then pulls his knitted ski hat over his reddened ears. “This is all seriously messed up.”

“Yeah, that one there seriously needs new luggage.” George steps back, shouldering his bag and his backpack with muscular ease.

“No, I mean, this, all of this situation—she, they, us, everyone, the world,” Gordie says.

I lean forward and take my turn with my stuff. It feels surreal, like someone else is going through the motions. My backpack is hoisted up and lands on my back with a thud that’s lessened by the stuffed lining of my winter jacket. I adjust the straps on both arms, then reach for the heavier duffel.

Gracie is starting to sniffle behind me, and I hear Dad embrace her in a bear hug.

Well, this is it.

I suddenly feel a burning in my eyes. In the back of my throat a huge horrible lump is gathering. No, I am not going to cry.

But the pressure is building in my sinuses, and as I keep my eyes open wide, afraid to blink, already I can feel the first stupid fat teardrop starting to well in one eye, as my vision gets blurry. I back away from the minivan, while Gracie disengages from Dad’s hug, wipes her face with the back of her hand—which smears her eyeliner on one side—and goes for her bag with trembling hands.

I stand watching the peeling spots of paint on the wall of the school building, while blurs of students are going past me up the stairs. I am momentarily distracted from needing to bawl by the familiar faces. Mindy Erikson walks by with her stuff, and her flaming red hair. . . . There goes football jock Nick Warren and his younger brother, whatshisname.

“Gwen, honey . . .” Dad’s voice cuts through everything, and it makes me turn around and look at him, and face him at last.

“Here, my sweet girl, there you go,” Dad says, reaching out for me, and I meet his eyes, and it breaks me completely. Dad. . . . This is my dad, and he is going to die.

I am glad that next comes the great big hug so he doesn’t see me start to lose it. Instead I lose myself in his chest, and crush my face against the beige blazer, and think about how he’ll have to have it dry cleaned to get my stupid tears and snot off the fabric. I stay that way for several moments, shaking silently, feeling Dad’s powerful embrace and smelling the faint aftershave and wool scent of his clothes.

“My brave, smart Gwen,” Dad says in my ear. “Love you, honey, stay strong! Promise me, never give up! Watch out for your sister and brothers—”

“Love you, Dad, I will. . . .”

I let go, and stand back, and smear my face with the back of my hand, and that’s it.

I watch Dad take Gordie in a quick tight hug, and pat his back, and then George, who evades the hug and instead gets a grownup handshake.

“Well, this is it,” Dad says. He takes a symbolic step back and nods at us, and says, “God speed, go on, all of you! I promise you, the Lark family will Qualify, hands down, all four of you!” I see Dad’s eyes are sort of red too, as he just stands there, looking at us through his spectacles.

George nods briefly, and just for a moment he is suspended, motionless, like a post. He turns and gives the rest of us a serious look. “Okay! Let’s do this. See you on the flip side.” And George heads up the stairs.

Gordie follows, trudging silently.

Gracie and I take a moment longer, to give Dad another last look.

“Go on!” he says. “Don’t be late now, hurry! Your Mom and I are rooting for you one hundred percent. Go!”

And so I take my sister by the arm, and pull her along, and we start up the steps.

We enter the school building without looking around again at Dad.

It’s easier this way.


Author Bio:

VERA NAZARIAN is a two-time Nebula Award Finalist, a Dragon Award 2018 Finalist, an award-winning artist, and member of Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, a writer with a penchant for moral fables and stories of intense wonder, true love, and intricacy.

She is the author of critically acclaimed novels DREAMS OF THE COMPASS ROSE and LORDS OF RAINBOW, the outrageous parodies MANSFIELD PARK AND MUMMIES and NORTHANGER ABBEY AND ANGELS AND DRAGONS, and most recently, PRIDE AND PLATYPUS: MR. DARCY'S DREADFUL SECRET in her humorous and surprisingly romantic Supernatural Jane Austen Series, as well as the Renaissance epic fantasy COBWEB BRIDE Trilogy, and the high-octane adventure YA / teen dystopian apocalyptic bestselling science fiction series THE ATLANTIS GRAIL that has been optioned fordevelopment as a feature film series and/or TV series.

After many years in Los Angeles, Vera lives in a small town in Vermont, and uses her Armenian sense of humor and her Russian sense of suffering to bake conflicted pirozhki and make art.

Her official author website is http://www.veranazarian.com

To be notified when new books come out, subscribe to the Mailing List: http://eepurl.com/hKaeo

Website / Goodreads / Facebook Author Page / The Atlantis Grail Page / Twitter / Bookbub / Pinterest / Wattpad


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Eden Chip

9/28/2018

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Science Fiction
Date Published: July 1, 2018

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Thanks to nanochips implanted in human brains, the world is at peace in 2055. But not everyone likes having their emotions controlled, or their religion suppressed.

Eighteen-year-old Raissa embarks upon a perilous mission to free the world, just days before the release of nanochip Version 7, which will broadcast every citizen's thoughts to the Collective.

The countdown has started, and Raissa must make choices that jeopardize the lives of billions, including the only boy she has ever loved.



Note: Some discussion of technology, some “techno-speak”; clean, no sex or swearing; some non-graphic violence, a tiny bit of graphic violence.


About the Author

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Scott Cramer has optioned two screenplays, written for national magazines, and authored four novels: EDEN CHIP and the TOUCAN TRILOGY (Night of the Purple Moon, Colony East & Generation M). Scott and his wife reside outside Lowell, Massachusetts.





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A Life By Design

9/27/2018

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Book Details:

Book Title: A Life By Design (The Italian Family Series) by Lucy Appadoo
Category: Adult Fiction, 211 pages
Genre: 20th Century Historical Romance, coming of age story set in Milan, Italy
Publisher: Self-published
Release date: Aug 24, 2018
Format available for review: ebook (mobi, PDF, ePub)
Tour dates: Sept 24 to Oct 12, 2018
Content Rating: PG-13 + M

Book Description:

When 20-year-old Elena Allegro leaves the Italian village of Laurino to study Fashion Design in Milan, she’s certain her dreams are about to come true. Despite her father’s warnings that risk comes with her newfound freedom, she loves her studies and develops a love interest with Francesco, the handsome young entrepreneur who offers her a part-time job in a Milan clothing store.

It seems like an idyllic situation—until a stalker targets Elena, tormenting her with mind games and threatening her safety. In the face of escalating danger to herself and to Francesco, Elena must fight for her freedom, her love, and her survival.
​
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Meet the Author:


Lucy is an author of romantic suspense, historical fiction/coming of age, short story thrillers, and non-fiction books. She is also a Registered Counsellor/Wellness Coach, and works as a Rehabilitation Counsellor for the Australian Government.

Lucy enjoys reading romantic suspense, romance, thrillers, crime novels, family/historical drama, and sagas. She has enjoyed travelling to exotic places such as Madrid, Mauritius, and Italy, and draws on these experiences in her creative writing.

Lucy’s favourite authors include Kendra Elliot, Christiane Heggan, Theresa Ragan, Tara Moss, Nicholas Sparks, Adriana Trigiani, Erica Spindler, and James Patterson (to name a few).

Lucy’s interests include meditation, exercising, journal writing, reading fiction and nonfiction texts about writing, coaching, and counselling, ongoing professional development, spending time with her husband and two daughters, and socialising with friends and family.

Connect with the Author: Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook
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The Journal of Angela Ashby

9/25/2018

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The Journal of Angela Ashby
Liana Gardner
Published by: Vesuvian Books
Publication date: September 25th 2018
Genres: Middle-Grade, Paranormal

A Middle Grade “Death Note”

“With great power comes great responsibility.” ~Voltaire

I have great power.
That’s what she told me. The old fortune-teller at the school carnival.
I thought I was doing the right thing … with the magic journal she gave me. But nothing could prepare me for what happened next.
Or, for what I unleashed.

At a school carnival, a mysterious fortune-teller gives twelve-year-old Angela Ashby a journal and warns her to use it wisely. Nothing prepares Angela for the journal’s power—when she pours her heart onto its pages her desires come true.

She tests the journal by conjuring a gnome, a unicorn, and a farting fairy and then uses it to stop the school bullies in their tracks. But the unintended consequences alienate her best friend and puts her favorite teacher in danger of losing her job.

After she shares her deepest desire of all—that her parents get back together—her adversary steals the journal, and Angela fears she will use it to bring mayhem to the entire school if she doesn’t get it back.

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--

EXCERPT:

In the middle of the layout the Ace of Spades drew me in. Smoke from the candles created a foggy layer and the image wavered and morphed into a winged hooded figure carrying a scythe through a graveyard. The angel of death. I blinked and ran a hand over my eyes. Once I lowered my hand, the card showed the black spade and letter ‘A’. Nothing else. Not even a gravestone.

I didn’t imagine it. Or maybe it would be better if I had. I gazed back at Madame Vadoma.

“You will gain power beyond your wildest imaginings and need to use it wisely.”

Yeah, right. What twelve-year-old ever had power? We were back to the usual phony reading. I settled back into my chair to wait for the line about the dark stranger.

Madame Vadoma narrowed her eyes. “Young lady, this is not trick done for amusement. I give you caution. You would be wise to pay heed.”
Was she reading my mind?

“You have struggles ahead as you learn to use your power. Temptation will beckon and you will want to use it for ill. You must resist. Down the path of ill-will lies destruction.”

Weren’t these things supposed to be light, fluffy readings about finding love and fortune? Ill-will and destruction were not supposed to be part of the deal.

Her amber eyes bore into mine. “You have choices to make about the power of your heart. Casual choice makes trouble. Be cautious with desires. The right choices will lead you to happiness and fulfillment.”

A shiver ran through my body and goose pimples dotted my arms. The words sounded like the usual trickery. Besides, I could hear the same lecture from my mom. Make the wrong choices and you get in trouble. Make the right choices and you’ll be happy. Big deal.

So why were the hairs standing on my arms?

Madame Vadoma grabbed a thin leather book lying on the table beside her. She ran her hands over the cover and mumbled words I didn’t understand. Her claw-like hands grasped the book as she stared at me. Her gaze penetrated my soul and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t look away.

Her eyes widened at something behind me. With one hand she clutched the book closer to her body, then blew twice in rapid succession on the fingertips of her other hand. Tingles ran down my spine and I snapped my head around to look over my shoulder. Nothing was there. Creepy.

She closed her eyes and the tensions drained from her arms and shoulders. Taking a deep breath, her lids fluttered open and she met my gaze. Madame Vadoma grunted and gave a nod, which sent her hoops swinging. “I give you this. It is for you to write what is in your heart.” She handed me the book. “Remember your heart has power. Use it wisely.” She stood. “Keep your heart pure, and you will do no harm.”

Things were getting a little too freaky. Hugging the book to my chest, I shot out of my seat. “Um, thanks for the reading.”

Backing up a few steps, I turned and bolted through the curtain.

Author Bio:

Liana Gardner is a two-time teen choice award-winning author of the Misfit McCabe series and finalist in 2018 International Book Awards for Children's Fiction. Daughter of a rocket scientist and an artist, Liana Gardner combines the traits of both into a quirky yet pragmatic writer and in everything sees the story lurking beneath the surface. Engaged in a battle against leukemia and lymphoma, Liana spends much of her time at home, but allows her imagination to take her wherever she wants to go.

She fostered her love of writing after reading Louisa May Alcott's Little Women and discovering she had a great deal in common with the character Jo. The making up of stories, dramatic feelings, and a quick temper were enough for her to know she and Jo would have been kindred spirits.

Liana volunteers with high school students through the International Trade Education Programs (ITEP). ITEP unites business people and educators to prepare students for a meaningful place in the world of tomorrow. Working in partnership with industry and educators, ITEP helps young people "think globally and earn locally."

Her debut Middle Grade novel, 7th Grade Revolution, launched 10/24/2017 and will be followed by The Journal of Angela Ashby out 9.25.2018. Currently she is working on a chapter book series as LK Griffie, with creator Luke Matthews and co-authors Olivia Claire and Jared Cross, entitled Timmy and the Golden Lion Tamarin. In addition to the children's book series, she is working on a Middle Grade series which will be released under the name Liana Gardner, with the first book titled, The Star Warriors and the Secret of the Red Key. Her most recent YA novel, Speak No Evil, will also be released under the name Liana Gardner.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter


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Consumed

9/25/2018

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Consumed
The Oblivion Series; Book 3
Publish Date: September 25, 2018
Cover Design by: MadHat Books


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I’m a the catalyst to the power that has turned our world to chaos.


My father had to leave to keep me safe. I have been hidden with my mother’s clan since I was a young child. We were told my mother was killed by hunters while she was hunting.


That’s a lie. I felt her heartache and pain. I felt her loss of power as it was pulled from her. She died to keep me safe.


The hunters want me. They want the other two as well. I have to do all in my power to save us all. We have to find them while keeping what I am a secret.


Secrets, Lies and Deception.


We are all secrets, that once together will bring the world around and into balance once again.


We are the temperament, balance and serenity of our people.




:: Other Books in this Series, Available Now ::


Publish Date: September 11, 2018


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Publish Date: September 18, 2018


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You would think that having the ability to shift into a creature of the night would garner some respect, right? Wrong! At least not for these Guardians.


Tiberius and Horacio are Guardians. Shifters that live within the human world, but go unseen by the humans. They stalk the streets, slipping silently through the shadows, watching and waiting to intercede at the first sign of trouble. Humans have no knowledge of their existence as contact between Guardians and Humans is forbidden.


It is their most sacred law, established long ago when shifters first came to this world.


But even laws that are set in place to save your life can be bent, and when necessary, broken.


When Tiberius and Horacio save a human woman, Jasmine, from being attacked by rogue shifters, things change for both worlds. Their actions set in motion a series of events that were foretold many eons ago.  


Ancient prophecies speak of a union, a life, that will revive the past – a past that many in the supernatural community want to keep buried. But, buried secrets always find a way of coming back to bite us in the ass when we least expect it.


When these revelations come to light, Jasmine won’t be the only one in danger anymore.


Will they be able to survive the evil heading their way or will the dark forces opposing them destroy all they hold dear?


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:: About the Author ::


I’m a Carolina Girl by right and a Texan by birth... so I have a Texas-sized temper. Living and working in both states I’ve learned a lot about hard work, adapting to your surroundings and making the best of the path that you have been led down. My grandma Dollie once told me I would know what I was meant to do when it happened. She was right, as always.
As with most book lovers, I am an avid reader. Reading has always been a hobby - a passion, really. Reading helps to expand the perimeters of one's mind. That is what got me to start writing as a kid. If I had paper...or a wall... I was writing. Words are a part of us all. Why not use them, right?
During the day I work as a ‘desk jockey’ and help the residents of my county navigate themselves around our little, but not too little country town. By night I am either blogging, doing PA work for some of my favorite authors or I am fighting with the voices in my head. (They can be stubborn at times.) It’s a way to cope and make the troubles of the day disappear, if only for a few hours. It’s a blessing and I am cherishing every moment. For that which is my creation, may become someone else's treasure.
Tomorrow is never guaranteed so I want to make sure I live the day as fully as possible.


:: Connect with Barb here ::
Email : Newsletter : Website : Author Blog : Facebook : Twitter : Instagram : Bookbub : Goodreads : Amazon Author Page
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The Triangle

9/24/2018

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The Triangle
JA Huss & Johnathan McClain
(Shape of Love Series #1)
Publication date: September 25th 2018
Genres: Erotic Romantic Suspense

“A suspenseful, tangled, erotic love story from the twisted minds of New York Times Bestselling author, JA Huss, and actor/screenwriter, Johnathan McClain.”

Alec. Christine. Danny.
This is how you say our names.
Danger is our drug of choice, the triangle our addiction.

Alec. Golden boy with diamonds in his eyes.
Christine. Partner in crime and owner of my heart.
They know what they want.
Me.
Danny. Unsure of everything they’re offering.

But if she needs me, I come.
So when he called, I went. It’s just that simple.

Until it wasn’t.
Until all those memories come rushing back with all the things we left behind.

I only know three things.
There is no her without him.
No me without them.
No we without us.
We are Alec, Christine, and Danny.
And this is the shape of our love.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

--

EXCERPT:

CHRISTINE

Danny folds his arms across his chest. Defiant.

But Alec is already pushing me through the open apartment door. “Don’t worry. He’ll follow. It’s his fokken apartment, isn’t it?”

My eyes are still locked with Danny’s when I disappear inside.

Alec kicks the door closed, pushes me up against the wall, places both hands on my cheeks, and kisses me on the mouth.

Fuck.

I sink into him.

Absolutely sink.

The door slams open, hitting the wall so hard I know there’s a hole in the sheetrock. “Get your fuckin’ hands off her,” Danny says, pulling me away.

I spin into him. Bounce against the hard muscles of his chest. And an instant later his arms are wrapped around me, replacing the heat of Alec with the heat of him.

Sinking is something I could get used to. Because I do it again.

“Now you’re getting the idea,” Alec says.

“Oh, I’ve got ideas,” Danny says. “I’ve lots of ideas. And all of them involve me cracking that pretty face of yours into pieces.”

“Promises,” Alec huffs, taking a step forward.

“Back the fuck up, van den Berg. Now.”

“Sorry, bru. But she doesn’t belong to you.” He pauses, his eyes focused on Danny. And without dropping that challenging stare he says, “Tell him, Christine. Tell him why we’re here.”

Shit. Why are we here? Did I miss something? Are there still gaps in my memory?

“She’s here because you’re selfish,” Danny answers for me. “She’s here because once again, you got her wrapped up in some illegal bullshit.”

“Why don’t you ask her what she wants for once? Eh? I mean, I get it.” He takes another step closer. I’m in the middle now. Alec in front and Danny behind me. I can feel the heat of both men and they are on fire. “You had her first. Your claim is older. But you let her get away, Danny. You let her walk out and face the cold, hard world alone. And I never did. That should count for something.” He places his hand back on my cheek. Lets his gaze fall to me—“Right, luv?”—then rise back up to Danny.

Danny holds me tighter, the zippers of his leather jacket cold and biting against my back where my t-shirt has ridden up. God. Yes. “It counts,” I say, betraying Danny in the same moment I pledge allegiance to Alec.

And then I turn to face Danny.

He wants to be angry. He wants to glare at Alec. Probably kick his ass. But that turn changes everything. Because he forgets about Alec and only sees me.

I slowly rise up on my tiptoes. My hands slip underneath his jacket and slide along the cut muscles of his waist. He closes his eyes for half a moment, sighing inside as we fall into each other. My lips gently caressing as my tongue probes against his hard mouth.

He gives in.


Author Bio:

Two accomplished writers come together to create unforgettable sexy romance. JA Huss is the New York Times bestselling author of 321 and has been on the USA Today bestsellers list eighteen times. Johnathan McClain is a veteran actor and writer whose work, either performed or written, is probably airing on at least one of the channels on your television right now. You can contact them on their website www.hussmcclain.com or find them at their social links below.

STALK JULIE
FACEBOOK / TWITTER / INSTAGRAM

STALK JOHNATHAN
FACEBOOK / TWITTER / INSTAGRAM


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The Boss

9/24/2018

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The Boss
Abigail Owen
(Fire’s Edge #1)
Published by: Entangled: Amara
Publication date: September 24th 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Finn Conleth leads his team of enforcer dragon shifters with an iron fist and a cold heart. Every dragon seeks his destined mate, but the process to turn the woman he once thought was his killed her and devastated him. He will never risk his heart again. His team is his family now. When his body eventually gives out, he’ll leave, living his last days alone.

Delaney Hamilton moved across the country to escape the freak fires that plague her. But when another suspicious fire erupts and rapidly escalates around her, her hopes for a new life go up in smoke. She has no choice but to turn to the mysterious men who come to her aid.

Finn knows the fire is dragon-caused, which puts Delaney’s problems directly in his jurisdiction. No matter how her wounded grey eyes call to every part of him, he refuses to risk her life in the mating process.

Until another dragon threatens to claim Delaney for his own, and Finn has to sacrifice everything to keep her alive…

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--

EXCERPT:

No way was she misinterpreting the need reflecting back at her.

Say it, she silently urged. Too proud to beg out loud. Do something.

“What do you want, Finn?” she repeated.

Please.

He tipped his head down, though his gaze remained on her, but the light in those blue depths shifted, turning from banked need, held ruthlessly in check, to a possessiveness that drew her body into aching awareness.

He pulled lightly on her wrist, drawing her across what had been an impassable chasm of space, until she was flush against his hard body. His other hand came under the fall of her hair to rest against her neck.

She didn’t look away, not even as he lowered his head, his movement agonizingly slow. His mouth only a whisper from hers, he stopped.

“You,” he said. “I want you.”

Finally. She had no idea if she closed the distanced between their lips or if he did. She only knew that she was getting exactly what she wanted.

Sensation forced her eyes closed as the heat of him seeped into her skin, her body flushing with it, swamping her senses. Their tongues tangled, his mouth hard and urgent against hers, like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed to possess her. The speed of her body’s reaction was so fast, so immediate, that she went dizzy with the need, like looking over the edge of a terrifying drop.

She was too out of her element, too out of control, but she didn’t want to stop. She wanted more.

He released her wrist, wrapping his arm around her waist, her softness yielding to his hard body as he held her closer. At the same time, he loosened his grip on her neck, brushing over the sensitive skin at her nape with his fingers.

Shards of electricity zapped from that simple touch directly to her core, which throbbed in response. At the same time, warmth from that touch spread through her on a wave of a feeling akin to total acceptance. Like this was where she was supposed to be. A low moan dragged from her mouth as he lifted her, just enough that it put him in complete control. He slipped a thigh between her legs, then pressed her down.

Holy hell.

Delaney leaned into him, her body softening into his, attuned to what his wicked hands and lips were doing to her even as her heart beat fast has hummingbird’s wings just to be in his arms. She arched into him, moving against him with a moan.

His hand slid under her shirt and he brushed against the sensitive flesh at her waist, his skin warm against hers. Which only made her want more skin.

With eager hands, she tugged at his black t-shirt, breaking their kisses only long enough to pull it over his head. Then she allowed her hands to roam, to feel the rigid strength in his body, loving the heat of him, the bourbon and Coke smell of him.

A shudder shook his body. “I want you.” He paused, then said something else under his breath. Something like, “More than I should let myself.” But then his lips were back on hers, addling her senses and taking over her mind.

A bellow rent the air and jerked Delaney out of the oblivion of pleasure where she floated. She snapped her head up, breaking the kiss to listen. Another sound that she could only classify as a roar broke the stillness.

“What was that?” she asked. Fear, rather than need, had her heart tripping over itself inside her chest. “It sounds like a…wounded animal.”

Finn gave a low rumble that sounded more like a warning growl than anything a human would make, and her heart slammed into high gear. Slowly, dread pulling at her, she turned her head to look directly at him.

To encounter eyes ablaze. Not figuratively. Literally ablaze. Blue flames consumed his irises.

What the hell? Panic spiked inside her, and her breath came out in short, sharp bursts, speeding up as she absorbed what she was seeing.

Adrenaline joined the fear and she shoved his chest. Hard.

She must’ve surprised him, because Finn released her, stumbling back a few paces. She managed to keep her feet under her, then scrambled back, trying not to trip over any rocks in her path.

He held up his hands. “Delaney, don’t—”

She did the only thing she could. She ran.


Author Bio:

Award-winning paranormal romance author, Abigail Owen, grew up consuming books and exploring the world through her writing. She attempted to find a practical career related to her favorite pastime by earning a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing). However, she swiftly discovered that writing without imagination is not nearly as fun as writing with it.

No matter the genre, she loves to write witty, feisty heroines, sexy heroes who deserve them, and a cast of lovable characters to surround them (and maybe get their own stories). She currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own personal hero, her husband, and their two children, who are growing up way too fast.

Abigail also writes award-winning contemporary romance under the pen name Kadie Scott. (http://kadie-scott.com)

For the latest news and exclusive excerpts, sign up for her newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/Lw2XH

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Blessed Fury

9/23/2018

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Blessed Fury
C.S. Wilde
Publication date: September 21st 2018
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

Once you face the devils, there’s no going back.

Guardian angel Ava Lightway has spent a century watching over her charges, whispering the words of the gods in their ears. But her peaceful existence ends when she’s assigned to Liam Striker, a supernatural detective with no memory of his past.

Liam might be Ava’s biggest challenge yet. Stubborn and dangerously captivating, he’ll stop at nothing to find the demon who murdered his father. Even if it costs him his life.

Keeping death away from her new partner is an impossible task. And even if their investigation doesn’t destroy Ava, succumbing to Liam’s smoldering touch just may.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Are you a book reviewer?
You can request a review copy here!

--

EXCERPT:

The stench of stale beer and sweat invaded Ava’s nostrils as she moved toward the bar. A football game played on the screen behind the counter, but none of the three men populating the pub paid any attention to it.

The air inside was musty, old, and it only worsened as she approached the end of the room.

She passed by the first man, who sat in a booth on the left. He stared at nothing in particular, with a cry stuck midway in his throat and a half-empty jug of beer clutched in his hand. The bad lighting drenched half of him in shadows, making it seem like darkness was swallowing him.

He didn’t notice Ava because she had masked her presence before entering. She wasn’t exactly invisible. Humans could see her if they focused hard enough, but they rarely did.

Ava made a mental note to check up on that poor soul if she had the chance, her Guardian instincts urging her to help. He was clearly suffering, but she was here for a reason, and the reason was not that man. So she went back to the task at hand.

The wooden floor creaked as she approached the bar. The bartender, an old man with white hair and a face marred by deep wrinkles, cleaned a dirty glass from behind the counter.

She wasn’t here for him, either.

The last man sat hunched at the edge of the counter. Well, he wasn’t exactly a man. According to his file, he was a Selfless, an angel whose memories had been wiped out so he could be reborn as a human—standard procedure, considering centuries of memories could overload a human brain.

She stopped by his side and sat on the red padded stool to his left. The seat’s ripped leather grazed the white fabric of her bodysuit, scratching her thighs.

The man was hunched over, so she couldn’t see much of him except for his strong build and dark hair. He took a long gulp of his drink and didn’t acknowledge her presence for a while.

So she waited.

“Archie isn’t dead yet,” he finally said, his voice rough like a cement wall.

“I do belie—”

“He’s not dead,” the man repeated, his attention solely on what was left of his whiskey.

She took a deep breath. “I know, Liam.” She used her Guardian voice, the calm, soothing tone to which she had grown accustomed. It was how she talked to her charges, how every guardian angel spoke, actually. Using the same serene tone.

Liam turned to Ava, his brow furrowed and his lips twisted, and for a moment too quick to count, she lost her breath. Ava had seen his photo on file, but the live version of him was brutally handsome. Liam was a cool wind on a summer morning and a thunder waiting to crack. His features were all sharp angles and fierce lines, but his eyes … Ava had never seen eyes like those. Rough emeralds cut with razor-sharp precision, almost like crystalline water, if water were green.

“Don’t call me by my name,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “You don’t know me.”

“You’re right, and I apologize.” She patted her thighs as if she were fixing the apron of an invisible dress. “I only read your file, but I’d like to get to know you, Liam.”

“You’re a Guardian,” he scoffed and took a sip of his drink.

“I am,” she said, ignoring the contempt in his tone. “However, the word the Messenger used when he assigned you as my charge was ‘temporary partner’.”

“You’re not my partner,” he barked through tight lips. “Archie is.”

“I’m not here to replace Archibald, Liam.”

He glared at her, certainly because she had used Archibald’s name and his. This seemed to be a sensitive matter to her new charge, so she calmly added, “I can’t replace your partner. No one can.” Ava extended her hand to him. “I’m Ava, by the way. And I’m here to help.”


Author Bio:

C.S. Wilde wrote her first Fantasy novel when she was eight. That book was absolutely terrible, but her mother told her it was awesome, so she kept writing.
Now a grown-up (though many will beg to differ), C. S. Wilde writes about fantastic worlds, love stories larger than life and epic battles.
She also, quite obviously, sucks at writing an author bio. She finds it awkward that she must write this in the third person, and hopes you won't notice.

To be notified of upcoming releases, signup for the Kick-ass Team at www.cswilde.com

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The Path of Destiny

9/23/2018

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The Cremelino Prophecy, Book 1

YA Fantasy
Date Published: September 23, 2018

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2nd Edition



A Prophecy.

A Powerful Sword.

A reluctant wizard.



Darius San Williams, son of one of King Edward's councilors, cares little for his father's politics and vows to leave the city of Anikari to protect and bring glory to the Realm.

When a new-found and ancient magic emerges within him, he and his friends Christine and Kelln are faced with decisions that could shatter or fulfill the prophecy and the lives of all those they know.

Wizards and magic have long been looked down upon in the Realm, but Darius learns that no matter where he goes, prophecy and destiny are waiting to find him.

If you love magic, sword & Sorcery and wizards read this first book in The Cremelino Prophecy to find out what destiny awaits Darius.



Praise for The Path of Destiny:

5 Stars - "Author Mike Shelton has done a great job in creating characters that his readers will enjoy, connect with, and even care bout. His world creation abilities are second to none, and his ability to describe surroundings is so vivid and great that readers will feel as if they can simply slip through the pages and into Darius' world. Any reader, young adult or not, who enjoys a great work of fantasy with an extremely adventurous story line should absolutely read this book. I highly recommend it, and am very much looking forward to reading the next in the series from the talented Mike Shelton as soon as possible!" - Tracy A. Fischer for Readers' Favorite



"A fantastic young adult series that even adults can enjoy! It is fantasy series full of magic, suspense and adventure...I loved the connection of the magic, the horses and Darius and Christine. It was so exciting! Especially to watch the magic grow in Darius as he learned how to control his magic and what it needs to work. The three books are well written, played out and lead into each other very well. They are incredibly exciting and full of suspense. These are perfect books for young adults but even older adults who love fantasy." - workingmommyjournal.ca



5 Stars: "In a combination of medieval gallantry and fairytale fantasy, Shelton weaves a delicious tale reminiscent of Robin Hood or the Knights of the Round Table. The author's command of the English language draws the reader into a vividly described setting." - Lisa McComb for Reader's Favorite



"An exciting and character-rich young adult fantasy novel. Author Mike Shelton is expert at world building: both the world the characters inhabit, and their inner world as well. Darius and his friends are true-to-life characters who will keep you turning the pages. This is a fun and well-thought-out introduction to this series. Fans of a certain teenage wizard, or fantasy fiction in general, will find a lot to like here." Self-Publishing Review



"Mr. Shelton's debut young adult novel...is captivating." The characters are relatable, and the reader gets lost in their plights.4 out of 4 stars. - Onlinebookclub.org




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Other Boooks in The Cremelino Prophecy Series:



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The Path Of Decisions
The Cremelino Prophecy, Book 2

2nd Edition

Release Date: October 7, 2018



Cutting betrayal.

Increasing powers.

Complicated decisions.



A wizard walks the land once again, but he struggles with how to use his power.

Darius San Williams, now the first commander of the King’s Elite Army struggles with his emerging powers.

After winning his first battle against external foes, he must decide now to follow the King or to take matters in his own hands.

Back in Anikari, Christine wrestles with how to confront oppression against her people, while in Belor, Kelln must escape the clutches of an evil wizard and warn Darius.

Mezar, the captured Gildanian quietly watches everything closely and harbors a secret of his own.

Each of their decisions will determine the fate and destiny of their friendship and their kingdom.

For more magic, wizards, betrayal, and sword & sorcery read book 2 in The Cremelino Prophecy, The Path of Decisions.



Amazon



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The Path Of Peace
The Cremelino Prophecy, Book 3

2nd Edition

Release Date: October 24, 2018



A wizard King.

An Evil influence. 

Powerful new magic.



Darius DarSan Williams, now newly crowned King of the Realm, is being pushed and tested on all sides by others vying for power.

His best friend Kelln is in Mar trying to find the escaped Preacher and his daughter.

Mezar discovers a plot in Gildan that could tear the Realm apart and put Christine in danger.

All are being watched over and guided by the mysterious Cremelino horses.  They hold one final magical secret that could help Darius save those he loves and find the path of peace.

Can everyone come together in time and find a solution or will the Realm fall to a conquering foe? 

With magic and wizardry abounding, and a race against time, the conclusion to The Cremelino Prophecy will not disappoint.  Read it today!



Amazon



About the Author

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Mike Shelton is now on his third young adult/teen fantasy series. For information on his new releases, book reviews, and other relevant info, please join him at www.MichaelSheltonBooks.com

Mike was born in California and has lived in multiple states from the west coast to the east coast. He cannot remember a time when he wasn't reading a book. At school, home, on vacation, at work at lunch time, and yes even a few pages in the car (at times when he just couldn't put that great book down). Though he has read all sorts of genres he has always been drawn to fantasy. It is his way of escaping to a simpler time filled with magic, wonders and heroics of young men and women.

Other than reading, Mike has always enjoyed the outdoors. From the beaches in Southern California to the warm waters of North Carolina. From the waterfalls in the Northwest to the Rocky Mountains in Utah. Mike has appreciated the beauty that God provides for us. He also enjoys hiking, discovering nature, playing a little basketball or volleyball, and most recently disc golf. He has a lovely wife who has always supported him, and three beautiful children who have been the center of his life.

Mike began writing stories in elementary school and moved on to larger novels in his early adult years. He has worked in corporate finance for most of his career. That, along with spending time with his wonderful family and obligations at church has made it difficult to find the time to truly dedicate to writing. In the last few years as his children have become older he has returned to doing what he truly enjoys - writing!



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Finding Family

9/22/2018

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Salty Key Inn Series, Book 4
Women’s Fiction
Date Published: September 22, 2018
Publisher: Wild Quail Publishing

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Sheena Sullivan Morelli and her sisters, Darcy and Regan, work to complete their Uncle Gavin’s challenge of turning his rundown hotel into a profitable operation within one year. Winning means earning a share in their uncle’s sizable estate. More than that, it determines how they’ll spend the rest of their lives. Sheena wants to stay on at the hotel, overseeing the hotel operation. But Darcy and Regan want to move on with their lives—Darcy writing a novel and Regan going into the interior decorating business with Mo. But life has other plans for them. And in the end, all three realize that the only thing that really matters is finding—and keeping—family.



Other Books in the Salty Key Inn Series:



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Finding Me
Salty Key Inn Series, Book 1

Publisher: Wild Quail Publishing

Published: February 2017



Sheena Sullivan Morelli and her sisters, Darcy and Regan, receive the unexpected news that their Uncle Gavin Sullivan, the black sheep of the family, has left them a hotel on the Gulf coast of Florida. The gift comes with a twist. They must live together for one year at the hotel and prepare the hotel to receive guests within a year. Sheena, eager to escape her role of unappreciated wife and mother, can’t wait for the opportunity to find herself. Dreams of sitting on the beach sipping margaritas are shattered when they see the property in need of renovation. But they begin their work of meeting the challenge. If they succeed, the bulk of Gavin’s estate will be theirs. Facing the unexpected, working together, the three sisters learn a lot about each other and the gift of family love.



Amazon



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Finding My Way book twoFinding My Way
Salty Key Inn Series, Book 2

Publisher: Wild Quail Publishing

Published: June 2017



Darcy Sullivan and her two sisters continue to work hard at the Salty Key Inn, the small, Florida hotel they unexpectedly inherited. In order to inherit the rest of Uncle Gavin’s sizeable estate, they must meet his challenge to open the neglected hotel by the end of the year. Darcy figures once they meet the challenge, she’ll take off, travel the world, and maybe, just maybe, begin writing the world’s best novel. When she meets Nick Howard, an older man who is a reporter for the local newspaper and takes over his weekly column, her life changes. Under his tutelage, she writes about local residents, learning to see people in a different way—especially after meeting a cousin no one knew about. Her joy at having the part-time job that’s always been her dream is shattered when she learns Nick is dying. For support, she turns to Austin Blakely, whose grandmother is terminally ill, and through their growing relationship, comes to understand what true love is.



Amazon



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Finding Love
Salty Key Inn Series, Book 3

Publisher: Wild Quail Publishing

Published: February 2018



As Regan Sullivan continues to work with her sisters, Sheena and Darcy, to meet their Uncle Gavin’s challenge to make the Salty Key Inn a success, she wonders why she can never find the man of her dreams. Her sisters are happily settled with men they love. Why can’t she do the same? When she’s involved in a motorcycle accident with Brian Harwood, Regan learns to think differently about both her appearance and herself. And as she deals with her injuries and helps Brian recover from the accident she feels guilty about causing, Regan discovers that the love she’s always sought has been there all along.



Amazon



Excerpt



CHAPTER ONE

SHEENA



Sheena Sullivan Morelli stood outside Gavin’s, the new restaurant at the Salty Key Inn on the Gulf Coast of Florida, feeling as festive as the mini-lights wound around the trunks of the palm trees that softened the outline of the building. She was dressed in her finest on this unusually warm, mid-December night, and the tropical Gulf breezes felt good as they caressed her skin.

From among the hibiscus planted around the perimeter of the restaurant, lights twinkled like the stars in the inky sky above and lent a sense of peace to the area. That, and the fact that Petey, the pesky peacock Rocky Gatto had rescued and brought to the hotel, had decided not to bother with this celebration and was hanging out down by the bay.

“Let’s make this an evening to remember!” said Sheena, giving her younger sisters, Darcy and Regan, an encouraging smile.

Named after their uncle, the restaurant would, they hoped, bring in enough revenue for them to be considered successful in meeting the terms of his will. With less than a month before their final meeting with Gavin’s estate lawyer in Boston, they were trying their best to prove to him that they had succeeded in beating the challenge of turning his rundown hotel into a profitable operation within one year. Winning meant they would inherit Gavin’s sizable estate along with the hotel. More than that, it would determine how they’d spend the rest of their lives.

Sheena brushed an imaginary crumb off her blue linen dress and studied her sisters. Darcy was wearing a green sheath that offset her red curls nicely. And Regan, beautiful as ever, even with the scar on her face she couldn’t quite hide, had chosen a violet, flowy dress that matched her striking eyes. Funny, Sheena thought, how she hadn’t really known her sisters until the three of them had been forced to live and work together at the hotel. And when Regan and Brian Harwood, now her fiancé, were in a serious motorcycle accident a few months ago, frightening everyone, they’d become even closer.

“I hope everyone likes what they see,” Regan said. “Mo and I did our best decorating the interior with the budget we had.”

“Don’t worry. It’s gorgeous,” said Darcy, giving Regan an impish nudge with her elbow.

“The restaurant is stunning,” said Sheena, “and the food is great. We were lucky to get Graham Howard as our chef.” She turned as a stream of people headed their way from the parking lot, which was filling up fast.

“Here we go! Make it good,” said Sheena softly, prompting Darcy and Regan to roll their eyes at the big-sister moment Sheena couldn’t help.

They’d invited county commissioners, members of nearby city and town councils, other government officials, news people, owners and managers of other hotels in the area, and even the governor of Florida to join them for this grand opening. It had been a bold move on their part, but it had already paid off in publicity, even though the governor and some county commissioners had politely declined. The fact that Darcy had been writing a column for a local newspaper helped them. She was acquainted with the ins and outs of generating publicity and had invited several writers of local social columns, travel bloggers, and magazines.

 Sheena was soon swept up greeting people and ushering them inside to enjoy drinks and to taste the delicious-looking food displayed in the bar and on a long buffet in the dining room.

The dark wood paneling on the walls of the main dining room supplied a rich background for the brass and crystal wall sconces that spread a soft glow along the room’s edges. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting their own warm light. White linen cloths covered the tabletops, which were set with sparkling wine goblets and silverware that reflected the light from the chandeliers and sconces. Flickering battery candles sat among tasteful, holiday greenery, adding a pine perfume to the mouth-watering aroma of the hors d’oeuvres being passed by staff.

Upstairs, the large function room held another bar and more food to sample, drawing people through the entire restaurant. A buzz of conversation enhanced the sense of excitement. The crowd was a pleasing mixture of people who, hopefully, would be a source of future business.

Kenneth Cochran, better known as Casey, was a Cornell Hotel School grad and manager of the restaurant. Tall and thin, he was a natural at his job with his ever-present smile and alert blue eyes. Tonight, he seemed to be everywhere, overseeing staff, and greeting people. Sheena observed him with satisfaction as guests responded to his attention. If she and her sisters won the challenge, they hoped to hire Casey as the hotel manager to help Sheena, who would remain an active overseer of the property.

Sheena looked up as her husband, Tony, appeared with their two children. Tears stung her eyes when she noticed the effort Michael, at eighteen, and Meaghan, at fifteen, had put into their appearance. After initially being against her plan to come to Florida, they now embraced their new lives and were proud of all she was doing.

“Hi, Mom,” said Michael. His brown eyes, so like Tony’s, sparkled. “Okay if I help myself to some of the food?”

She laughed at the typical, teenage hunger of a still-growing, young man. “Of course.   Enjoy.”

“You look pretty, Mom,” Meaghan said. “Thanks for letting me wear your necklace. It’s great with my new holiday dress.” She twirled in front of Sheena. Her auburn hair, like Sheena’s, swung above her shoulders and brought out the hazel in her eyes.

“You look pretty, too, sweetheart,” Sheena said. Her little girl was growing into a beautiful young woman.

Tony gave her a smile that warmed her heart. His smile had been one of the reasons their marriage had been prompted by the unexpected creation of Michael all those years ago. And though they’d always loved each other, their relationship had grown even stronger during their time in Florida.

He kissed her. “See you later. I’m going to mix with the crowd a little. Brian and I are hoping to pick up some new business.”

She gave him a heartfelt smile. Following Brian Harwood’s motorcycle accident with Regan, Tony had agreed to become a partner in Brian’s construction company and was now settled into his new life in Florida. As Tony walked away, Sheena noticed Blackie Gatto headed in her direction.

Blackie was Uncle Gavin’s financial advisor and a great supporter of her and her sisters as they attempted to do as their uncle wished by transforming what had been a small, run-down, family hotel into the upscale, full-service resort property he’d envisioned.

“Welcome to Gavin’s,” Sheena said to him, giving him a quick hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he replied, lifting her hand, and kissing it in a gallant gesture. He indicated their surroundings with a sweep of his arm. “I think Gavin would be very pleased with this.”

“We hope it brings in enough new business and revenue for us to complete our challenge here the Salty Key Inn.”

He nodded and settled his gaze on her. “I hope so, too. The downside of borrowing the money from Gavin’s estate to complete the restaurant could be difficult for you and your sisters if you fail.”

Sheena’s stomach curled inside her, but she didn’t want Blackie to see how worried she was. For the sake of her sisters and her family, she had to remain upbeat. With only a few weeks remaining to accomplish everything they had left to do, self-doubt could ruin them.


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About the Author

 photo Finding Family Author Judith Keim_zpsvr2wuk8f.jpg
Judith Keim was born and raised in Elmira, New York, and now makes her home in Idaho with her husband and their two dachshunds, Winston and Wally, and other members of her family.

Growing up, books were always present being read, ready to go back to the library, or about to be discovered. Information from the books was shared in general conversation, giving all of us in the family a wealth of knowledge and a lot of imagination. Perhaps that is why I was drawn to the idea of writing stories early on. I particularly love to write novels about women who face unexpected challenges and meet them with strength.

A hybrid author who both has a publisher and who self-publishes, Ms. Keim writes heart-warming stories of strong women who face challenges and find love and happiness along the way. Her books are based, in part, on many of the places she's lived or visited and on the interesting people she's met, creating believable characters and realistic settings her many, loyal readers love.


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