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Tribal Affairs by Matt Dallmann Genre: Ya Fantasy Release Date: July 31st 2017 Summary from Goodreads: Dahlia, a centuries old genie, lies hopelessly trapped in a damaged golden locket charm attached to an ankle bracelet. Its owner, sixteen-year-old Liana, wears it for the first time during her father Jamison’s opening night illusion spectacular. Not only does its presence cause Jamison to folly his performance, but it also starts a chain of bizarre events that lead to a showdown with Dahlia’s mortal enemy, Stefan, and an unsuspecting romance between Liana and his son. Add to Goodreads Inspiration for the NovelIt is hard these days to find something original to write about. I was recently told that about 4,000 new books are published or self-published every day. I was immediately depressed. How could anything I write possibly penetrate through this sea of books? Luckily, I started writing years before I heard this news, when I was still full of vim, vigor and vodka. Back then, when I was sporting a Y2K doomsday shirt and an analog Nokia cell phone, I, and everyone else apparently, racked my brain to come up with something original, or at least a different take on an old story. Due to the success of Harry Potter, Star Wars, vampires, etc., etc., I started my search in the world of fantasy. Of course, there are a lot of these stories, but what was it about the Harry Potter’s and the Luke Skywalker’s that made people so willing to follow them? What drew people into their foreign worlds? How did they provide access to something most knew nothing about and/or had no interest in learning? More often that not, when I looked at the similarities in all of these characters, it was the fact that they were all half-in and half-out that made them intriguing. They kept one foot in reality, or the familiar, and let the other take a step into the unknown. We gained access to foreign lands and foreign concepts as they did. I picked the genie or djinn/jinn mythology mostly because I felt that it was never really welcome in the western mainstream beyond a wacky cartoon or a two-dimensional sitcom character. As I researched the djinn and learned about the different tribes, I started to draw a correlation in my mind to the different regions/countries/tribes of the Middle East. “Humans,” then, became “western civilization,” which is why the essential romantic conflict is between a djinn and one of the original American colonists. All of this, of course, exists only in my mind as an allegory, and is not spelled out in the book. But my hope is that this story, like the half-human half-genie in it, gives people access to a foreign culture that they might not otherwise even look for. And, like the romance that unfolds in the book, I hope that through that access, people will discover something new and worthy of breaking boundaries. About the Author Matt Dallmann has a background in acting and holds a BFA from Marymount Manhattan College in New York City. His films and screenplays have been featured at film festivals across the United States including Cinequest, Big Apple Film Festival, Seattle’s True Independent Film Festival, DragonCon and Zero Independent Film Festival. His piano compositions have been published for commercial use and he is a member of ASCAP. Matt is also the Co-Founder and Vice President of the boutique medical billing firm VGA Billing Services, Inc. in New York City. He lives in New Jersey with his wife and two daughters. Author Links: Facebook | Pinterest
Willow Woods Academy for Witches
by R.L.Weeks & Skylar Mckinzie Genre: YA Fantasy Mystery
Willow Woods Academy for Witches and Wizards
Willow Woods Book 2 An unforgettable YA novel filled with mystery and magic. Fans of Harry Potter and Beautiful Creatures will love this series. Kat and Angie have just enrolled at Willow Woods Academy for Witches against their parent's wishes. They're thrown into a magical, mysterious world that is everything they dreamt it to be. However, when an ancient book falls into their laps, their worlds are turned upside down. 10 years ago, a rivalry between the covens of Willow Woods Academy and Morwood's School cost many their lives and cast a dark shadow over the academy. Now, Morwood's has opened again for the first time since the incident, and mysterious happenings are occurring - and they all seem to be surrounding Kat. School's never easy, and with her exams coming up, a stalker in the trees, and her family name shadowing doubt over what side she's on, the first year of school is more of an adventure than she had ever anticipated.
Willow Woods Academy for Witches and Wizards
Willow Woods Book 2 An unforgettable YA novel filled with mystery and magic - Fans of Harry Potter and Beautiful Creatures will love this series. The girls are back at school, but Angie's dreams about a secret order may be more than just dreams. Lara Ash is about to find out that all choices have consequences, and that being back from the dead isn't as fun as she first thought. She catches the eye of Angie's older brother, Grayson, and clings to him as her world falls apart. The rift between her and Angie Dupree, her sister Kat's best friend, causes Kat and Angie to fall out for the first time. Angie meets two new friends, the peppy Isolde and secretive Lizzie. However, they seem to be holding secrets of their own. When it comes to crunch time, can the group work together to stop an evil from destroying their lives, or will their own secrets be too much? This book is recommended for readers aged 13+. Warning: This book deals with bullying and has scenes of mild violence.
R L Weeks is the bestselling and award-winning author of the Dead Loves Life Series, Bloodlust, The Fallen, Willow Woods Academy for Witches, Cursed, and the owner of Enchanted Anthologies, publisher of Fractured Fairytales Books 1 & 2, A Deadly World: Vampires in Paris, Things Only the Darkness Knows, and Christmas Nightmares.
She lives in a small village in the UK. When she's not writing, she's traveling, reading (paranormal, fantasy and horror being her go to genres) and designing covers for Dark Wish Designs.
Skylar McKinzie lives in the small town of Screven, Ga. When she’s not writing, she’s cooking, baking, reading, and spending time with her family. She also loves long walks and sitting by the bonfire in October, which is her favorite month of the year.
She writes horror and paranormal romance. She is working on her next novel due to be released by the end of the year. Facebook * Twitter * Amazon * Goodreads
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The Grown Ups’ Crusade
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Gwen gathered fruit as fast as she could in the dim of the early morning. Mangos and marionberries, peaches and papayas, star fruit and oranges… she shoved the land fruit into her bag, never breaking pace as she trekked weast across the island. She needed to get to the coast and back before any fairies awoke. The entire fairy population had indulged in joyful revelries the night before, celebrating some amorphous holiday unknown to humans. The dawn would find even the most temperate fairies still lolling in drunken dreams and merry slumber. But dawn had not yet arrived and not everyone slept; stars still speckled the bluing sky and certain inhabitants of Neverland were still speaking with them. Tromping over vines and fungi, Gwen bushwhacked her way through the forest-jungle on anxious feet. The mermaids had not been helpful as of late. The new mermaids she’d met wouldn’t even give her their names. Eglantine and Cynara had been snide at best, and contemptuous at worst. Gwen wouldn’t have minded it—she didn’t care what mermaids thought of her—but she felt certain they knew what had happened to Lasiandra and refused to explain. This drowsy morning offered her a chance to tempt them with an overabundance of land fruit without anyone noticing. She would persuade the mermaids to cede their starry secrets and hurry back before any stray fairy or curious child found her at the incriminating lagoon. Gwen reached the wood’s end and hurried down the steps carved into the chalky cliff face. She moved so fast she half-flew toward the slender figures half-submerged in the lagoon. Gwen had not seen Lasiandra since the night she escaped with Jay from Lake Agana. In the chaos, she had never retrieved the scale from Lasiandra, and thus lost her ability to call her friend. She hadn’t worried about it—until days and weeks passed without sight of her at the lagoon. “What business have you with Lasiandra?” Eglantine had demanded last time Gwen visited. “What matter is she to you?” “I’m just worried about her,” Gwen had answered, innocent and truthful. The region’s entire Anomalous Activity Department had been on duty that night, trying to apprehend lost children and capture whatever magic followed them. Lasiandra’s disappearance was ominous, to say the least. A few fairies had not returned from the mission, and there was no question of what fate had befallen them. In response, the mermaids had only mocked her, contorting their melodic voices into cackling imitations of her land-dwelling accent, “I’m just worried about her.” “Worried about her! Concerned about a mermaid?” Cynara had declared, insulted and amused. “We are not of such a feeble nature as you landmaids. Mermaids have more strength in a single scale than you have in all of your heart. You need not worry for a mermaid, girl. We can take care of ourselves.” Gwen had wanted to believe her.
GIVEAWAY!
Crossing the Line
by Ellen Wolfson Valladares Genre: YA Magical Realism Release Date: March 6th 2018 WiDo Publishing
Summary:
Laura, who died thirty years ago, enlists the help of a tenacious high school reporter named Rebecca, who is very much alive. Rebecca, although skeptical and conflicted by her supposed encounters with a spirit, determines to learn the truth about Laura’s tragic death. As the clues unravel and their worlds collide, Rebecca finds herself at a dangerous crossroads. Laura, now pulled back into everything she left behind when she died – her old high school and memories of her life and death—has been in training for this exact moment. And nothing means more to her than succeeding at her assignment. It is her one chance to make sure that what happened her does not happen to anyone else, and especially not to her new friend, Rebecca.
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Q&A
Q: Tell me about your path to becoming a writer/published author. A: I always knew I wanted to be a writer. From a young age, I loved to write for fun and dreamed about writing a book one day. In college, I studied journalism and began a career that involved writing news, features, public relations, and advertising copy. I had put the creative writing I loved as a child on the back burner. But in the late 1990s, the desire to write a book came back and I started working on an idea I had. It took a while, but my first book came out in 2008. That was a children’s novel, called Jonathan’s Journey to Mount Miapu, and I ended up self-publishing it. It took a few years before I came up with another idea that inspired me enough to start the writing process again. I don’t know if people realize how much goes into writing a book. The second time around, I realized I still had a lot to learn about fiction writing. I was writing a young adult novel this time and I wanted to develop great characters, a well-thought-out plot, and compelling scenes. So you write and rewrite and rewrite again. I got feedback and rewrote again. It still had been a dream of mine to find a publisher, so I chose that route this time. I was about to give up and self-publish again when WiDo Publishing expressed interest in my manuscript. The day they offered me a contract was really a dream come true. Q: What was the inspiration behind Crossing the Line? A: Well, it was kind of twofold. Ironically, it started in the headlines. I say ironically because it involved tragedies occurring to young adults and of course, just recently, our community experienced the most unimaginable tragedy. It does not compare, but at that time probably eight years ago, there were some incidents in which kids did some unspeakable things to other kids and I thought if they had just taken a moment to stop and try to understand what was going on with the other person, they wouldn’t have made the rash choices they made. Then one day, I remember I was sitting on an airplane, the idea popped into my head that a spirit who had died would come back to make sure that what happened to her didn’t happen again. I knew it would be a converging of the past and present, two stories intersecting, begging the question, could history be prevented from repeating itself? It’s interesting and fascinating how a story and its characters develop out of a simple thought, and how the subtle messages we hope to convey get wedged between the cracks of an entertaining tale. That’s the beauty of fiction. You hope to entertain and if you’re lucky, you inspire along the way. Q: You tell the story in alternating points of view. One of the main characters, the spirit Laura, is from the 1980s and the other is more of a current-day teenager. Was one easier to write than the other? Why? A: Oh yeah. So I decided Laura would be from the class of 1983 because that is the year I graduated high school. In fact, as I was finishing the book, which talks about Laura’s school having their 30-year reunion, I actually attended my high school’s 30th reunion. That was great because I saw some great photos and relived memories that inspired more ideas for Laura’s story. So yes, Laura was easier to write because I lived that life. Rebecca, on the other hand, was a little more challenging. Even though I had two kids in high school at the time, they are boys. Still, my sons and their friends were a great source of inspiration. I think what I’ve learned and I hope comes through in the book is that so much is different between the generations, namely technology and access to information, and yet, so much of the teenage angst is the same. Everyone still just wants to be accepted and seen. Q: What’s next for you? A: In the immediate future, I plan on doing some book events and I am hoping to put together a writing workshop. I have a couple ideas brewing for future books and projects so we will see what takes flight. Right now, I’m really looking forward to finally sharing Crossing the Line with others. It’s been a long time coming. Q: Do you have advice for aspiring novelists? A: Practice, practice, practice. Learn your craft and hone it. There is so much out there in books and blogs that is helpful. Join writer’s associations or groups and get honest feedback on your work. Most importantly, just do it. Put your fears aside and write from your heart. Everyone has a story to tell.
About the Author:
Ellen Wolfson Valladares is an award-winning writer/author, workshop facilitator, community volunteer, and mother. Her first book, a children’s novel entitled Jonathan's Journey to Mount Miapu, received a Mom’s Choice Gold Award and the 2009 Coalition of Visionary Resources Visionary Awards Book of the Year award. A native Floridian, she lives in Weston, Fla., with her husband, two children, two dogs, and a cat.
Blog Tour Schedule:
http://yaboundbooktours.blogspot.com/2018/02/blog-tour-sign-up-crossing-line-by.html Looking for Dei
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Smashwords Are you a book blogger or reviewer? Join the blog tour here! -- EXCERPT: PROLOGUE Southside Orphanage Fairmont – Capital of the Great Land 652PB (Post-Breshi) The toddler blew at the dandelion bloom until its seeds broke free and floated away on a breeze that gusted past the man watching her from the bushes. His breath hitched as his burdens were lifted and briefly forgotten. It had taken ten years to locate her. A life of study, prayer, and service to Dei in a monastery had not prepared him for so many years on the run, hiding under false names while he searched for the one he feared he might never find. His grizzled, greying goatee and unkempt hair might have labeled him a beggar or a desperate criminal, but the hope in his eyes told a different story. Oblivious to the nearby threat, the girl dropped the crumpled dandelion stem and stumbled clumsily near a pile of stones. No more than two years old, she waddled across the overgrown orphanage courtyard, her cloth diaper askew. She plucked more flowers, her red hair dancing as she hopped after the seeds. She seemed to favor the world as her playmate, ignoring the twenty other children in the courtyard. She bumped into a small boy, fell down, and hopped back up with a baby-tooth grin before trotting off. When she fell, a glimpse of her back jolted the man to his task. It was the blemish that beckoned him here—an ugly red scar stretching from upper back to waist, announcing her identity as the prophetic treasure he had sought for so long. The weight of the manuscript in his backpack grounded his thoughts, and he glanced around the area. There were no fences, plenty of bushes for cover, and a single matron leisurely surveying the yard. The woman sat on the aging building’s back steps, watching the little ones as they ran about. She wore a dress and would be unable to chase him. How long would it take for her to alert the authorities? As he surveyed the grounds to plan his escape, the girl waggled her hand at a passing butterfly and giggled as it flew away. Fortune favored his plans when she ran to a group of dandelions just a few feet from his hiding place. Squatting, she grabbed several stems, preparing to blow and release the seeds. The man looked over to the matron, who had turned away to manage a quarrel between two other children. Knowing this might be his only chance, he burst forward and scooped the babe up in one arm, then raced back through the bushes behind the orphanage. He ran as fast as he could, unable to avoid jostling the child in his arms. She began to cry at the shock of her abduction, still gripping the dandelion stems in one tiny fist. Back at the orphanage, the matron in the dress looked toward the back of the yard. The only evidence of a disturbance was a cloud of dandelion seeds that drifted upon the air, scattering in the light breeze. She turned to the many children she cared for, oblivious to the crime that had just been perpetrated under her watch.
GIVEAWAY! Dominion
-- EXCERPT: We sat on his bed, tucked up against the headboard, Logan sitting with one knee bent and an outstretched leg, and me curled into a ball against his chest, practically cuddled on his lap. When my tears were spent, I let out a shaky breath of air. “Audrey, I can’t—” Logan’s voice caught on something. His head rested on top of mine. When he continued, his voice dropped an octave, thickened with emotion. “I can’t imagine what you went through down there. I’m so very sorry. I should never have bonded with you.” I savored the warm thud of his heartbeat on my cheek for several seconds before what he’d said sunk in. The leakage from my eyes along with a bad case of the feels must have dulled my reactions. I jerked to a sitting position to stare at him in disbelief—and anger. My face was crusted with the salt of dried tears. There was no doubt I was a hot mess and a half. But that was nothing compared to the mess he’d just spewed. He reached for me again, but I put a hand up to ward off his movements and curled my upper lip. Where to even start? “What I went through? Are you insane?” His gaze jumped around my face as if he couldn’t decide on a safe place to land. “Logan, I actually felt an echo of what you went through. I even experienced some of it in a dream or a weird out of body experience where I was you. What I went through was nothing.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I slashed a hand through the air to stop him. “Nothing compared to what had been done to you. You were torn to shreds. Literally, in some spots.” His face paled. I shouldn’t have gone there and instantly regretted bringing it up—but I couldn’t handle his concern for me when he had been tortured. We’d get to the “should never have bonded with you” comment next. “You experienced some of . . . of what I went through?” he asked. Shoot, I gave him another reason to beat himself up. Rookie mistake. “Never mind about that. And what’s this business about regretting bonding with me? Frankly, that’s kind of—hey!” He grabbed my upper arms and held me still as I tried to push away even farther. His blue eyes flashed, and his face was hard as stone. “If bonding with you caused you to feel even a second of what I endured in that place, then yes, it’s something I deeply regret and would do anything to take back.” Buried under the caveman response was something sweet, but I wasn’t feeling it. “Argh. You . . .” I pointed a finger at his face. “You just . . .” As I sputtered to find the right words, the corners of Logan’s lips just barely tipped up. I stopped talking when I spotted his involuntary reaction. Of course I’d find a guy who thought it was cute when I got mad. Actually, that was probably pretty lucky considering I did tend to have a short fuse. I pressed my lips together and narrowed my eyelids before performing another visual sweep of his body. Yep, he looked to be relatively healthy. I launched myself at him and grabbed the sides of his face, and then I planted my lips right over his. Just like the first time I’d surprised him with a kiss, he was momentarily stunned. I gently but firmly bit down on his full bottom lip in a silent demand for him to get with the program. Then I pulled back a fraction, just far enough that my lips grazed his when I spoke. “Less talking, more kissing.” I’d gone to Hell and back for this guy. I wanted to collect my reward . . . with interest.
GIVEAWAY! Galatine’s Curse
-- EXCERPT: They shuffled towards the light, and Tom gasped. The passage had opened out, and they were on a narrow shelf, looking out across a large cave that twinkled with a faint blue glow. Far below them was a lake lit from beneath, reminding Tom of Ceridwen’s Cauldron. “Where’s the light coming from?” Tom asked, as he craned round to look at the cave. It was almost circular, and although the lake was a long way down, the roof seemed far above them too. “Great Goddess!” Nimue murmured. “It must be coming from daystar sapphires.” She pointed. “There are hundreds set into the cavern walls.” “What are those? I’ve never heard of them,” Brenna said. “Very rare stones with strong magical properties,” Nimue replied. “Only those who practise magic use them, and they’re very hard to get.” She gazed around with wonder. “And yet Raghnall seems to have had his own enormous supply,” Arthur said. “I wonder,” Merlin said, “could they have been used in Filtiarn’s spell?” A narrow walkway ran off to their right before petering out, and Merlin felt his way along, heading towards where a smattering of stones came within reach. “Maybe,” Nimue murmured, deep in thought. “They have the ability to enhance any spell, but the power actually makes them dangerous. I have never used them, even when I had some. If they’re used incorrectly, they can cause what I can only describe as a magical explosion.” “That’s a long way down,” Bloodmoon said, peering over the edge. He picked up a stone and dropped it. It was several seconds before they heard a faint splash. “I think there’s something down there.” “Like what?” Tom said, alarmed. Beansprout dropped to her knees, better to look over the edge. “Can you see that black shape against the blue? It looks like it’s circling around.” “It’s getting bigger,” Woodsmoke said. “Is that because it’s getting closer?” He looked at Bloodmoon, annoyed. “Have you woken something?” “I only dropped a stone in!” he said, indignant. “Whatever it is, it’s a long way down. You worry too much, Woodsmoke!” Before anyone else could comment there was an enormous splash and the black shape emerged from the water, silhouetted against the blue. The shape kept coming, and then a spurt of fire emerged from the blackness, followed by the familiar roar of a dragon. “It’s a bloody great dragon,” Arthur yelled, pulling Excalibur free with a hiss. “Run!” But Merlin was still at the end of the ledge, examining the stones. “Merlin, get a bloody move on!” Arthur yelled, preparing to fight as they stood mesmerised by the dragon’s approach. And suddenly Tom was aware of Galatine, trembling, its hilt warm to the touch. “How can it live in water?” he shouted as he pulled Galatine free, its opals now swirling furiously. “Water dragon,” Nimue yelled above the roar, “very vicious, and territorial.” A blinding white light emitted from her hands, held palms forward, forming a wall in front of them just as the dragon drew level and released another stream of fire. They instinctively ducked, but the shield held, turning into a wall of flame as the fire hit it. Beyond, the dragon flapped its enormous wings and fixed them with a vicious stare before flying round to circle back, its huge wing span creating a rush of air. “Wow!” Tom said, rising to his feet and looking with new appreciation at Nimue. Merlin stumbled, and Arthur ran to him, helping him to his feet. Woodsmoke and Bloodmoon had already drawn their arrows in case the shield failed. Without hesitating, Beansprout did as she asked, and Tom saw her stiffen as a wave of power travelled through her, strengthening the shield. Tom watched the dragon turn back towards them, dripping with phosphorescent water, like a sheen of blue fire racing along its wings and dripping down its jaw. It was magnificent and terrifying all at the same time.
GIVEAWAY! Summary: YA Fantasy with Pirates! Captain Nereyda and her first mate, Brynja, lead a band of pirates as they seek out grand adventures and loot vulnerable merchant ships. However, when they attempt an overly ambitious raid, Nereyda and her crew are captured by Commander Erhan of the Imperial navy and separated. Nereyda is pressed into service aboard a ship to patrol the treacherous waters of the Shattered Sea. Meanwhile, Brynja and the rest of the crew are sent to a life of hellish labor deep in an Imperial mining prison camp. While serving her sentence, Nereyda is shipwrecked on an unknown island. As she explores it, she stumbles into some ancient ruins and finds…something. Whatever it is, it wakes a part of Nereyda that she had not felt before. Something that could help her free the rest of her crew and return to life on the sea, if only she can learn to control it. Unfortunately, Commander Erhan is also on the island. Nereyda must escape him, get off of the island, and rescue her crew before the commander can stop her and before her crew withers away in the oppressive mines. Read the first three chapters here: http://www.khansonbooks.com/storm-rav... Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075PHRY5R/ Add to Goodreads Excerpt: The scent of treasure floated in the ocean air as it breezed through Nereyda’s black hair. She gazed across the water at the largest cruise ship she had ever seen, which would be carrying some of the wealthiest lords and merchants from the Empire. She didn’t see any armed passengers aside from the personal bodyguards that were along for the ride. Just as importantly, no cannons were visible. The ship didn’t even have any gun ports. Easy prey. Pirates never dared strike so close to the mainland. The high level of naval activity, along with a large number of ports from which reinforcements could sail, made it dangerous. However, Nereyda felt confident that they could slip in and hit one ship before escaping into the open ocean. “Send them a warning,” she said to Brynja, her first mate. “Aye, aye,” Brynja said as she relayed the order. It wasn’t even really necessary since the huge ship couldn’t possibly flee or outmaneuver the Storm Raven. Still, they should at least give their target a chance to surrender. The shot splashed just aft of the cruise ship. A minute later, the cruise ship’s crew had furled their sails and run up a white flag. As they drifted, the Storm Raven pulled alongside them. Nereyda’s crew tossed hooks to link the two vessels. Due to the height of the cruise ship, they extended ladders across the gap. Nereyda mounted one of the ladders and climbed to the deck of the Luxura, followed by the rest of the boarding party. As she vaulted the railing at the top of the ladder, she looked around the deck. The passengers remained seated at tables strewn about the area, apparently enjoying their afternoon tea. All of them wore terrified expressions. All except for one bodyguard who walked toward her, drawing his sword. “How dare you interrupt our journey!” he asked, pointing his blade Nereyda. “Get back on your ship and leave at once.” Nereyda smirked at him. “Or what?” “I’ll run you through myself,” he threatened. Nereyda smiled, her amethyst eyes twinkling. “Go ahead,” she said as she drew her own cutlass. The bodyguard stepped forward with a thrust toward her stomach. With a swipe of her blade, she knocked his sword to the side. Nereyda stepped forward and struck him in the gut with the pommel of her weapon. As the guard bent over to clutch his belly, Nereyda knocked the sword out of his hand and kicked it up to her free hand. She pointed both blades at him and said, “Are you finished? Go back to your seat and shake it off.” “You’re not going to kill me?” “Is there a reason I should? Sit down like I said, and you’ll get through this just fine.” Nereyda handed the guard’s sword to one of her crew members and patted the guard’s back before she turned back to the travelers. “Anybody else feel like fighting?” She opened her arms in a welcoming gesture. Nobody stood up. “Now that we’re done with that, surrender any gold, jewelry, or other valuables you have, and we’ll let you keep going on your nice little journey. My friends here have some convenient bags. Just toss your things into them as they come around.” Her crew scattered about the deck, holding up their canvas sacks as the wealthy passengers surrendered their possessions. As the crew worked on collecting these treasures, Nereyda spotted a table with an open seat where some fluffy-looking merchant or lord or whatever sat with his wife and a young man who appeared to be their son. “Is this seat taken?” she asked. They just stared at her as she plopped down into the available chair. “Is now, I guess.” Nereyda reached across the table for the teapot and an empty cup. After she had poured herself some tea, she pushed aside the teapot, leaned back in her chair, then lifted her legs to rest her boots on the table. “Having a nice trip so far?” she asked in a bright voice, looking around the table. They gave her no answer other than looking away from her, avoiding eye contact. “Come now, what happened to all of those manners you rich people spend a fortune to teach your kids? I asked you a question.” Still no answer from the couple, but the young man leaned forward. “Why should we treat you with any sort of manners?” “I’m a guest at your table, aren’t I?” Nereyda flashed a smile. “We don’t have to let this be unpleasant.” The boy’s eyes narrowed as he scowled at her. “You call robbing our ship pleasant?” “That depends on how you look at it,” she said. “I may be taking some of your things, but you should look on the bright side. You get to leave with your clothes on. I’m not taking your food. And, best of all, you get to sail away from here, alive.” She leaned in. “I’d say that’s a pretty good deal.” “You talk as if letting us live is some kind of favor.” He jabbed a finger toward her. “I’ve seen what your kind of people do, falling on ships and villages alike, taking what you please and killing whoever gets in your way.” “You actually missed the part about how we snatch children away in the night to eat them.” She winked at the young man. “Wouldn’t want our reputation to suffer. But really, we’re just making a living like everyone else. May I ask how you earn your place on a ship like this?” “Lesser people pay us nobles for the privilege of working our land, and we provide them with protection.” “And what if they stop paying?” Nereyda asked. He rolled his eyes. “Then we run them off our land and take what they owe us, of course.” Neryeda tilted her head. “So they’re paying you for protection from…you? At least we’re honest about being criminals.” “You mock us, wench!” The young man jumped to his feet, knocking aside his chair and sending it clattering to the deck. He drew a sword from his hip and pointed it at Nereyda. “I will not let you leave this ship.” The pirate captain chuckled. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You brought a sword to tea? That’s not very gentlemanly. It’s a pity those etiquette lessons didn’t stick.” “Who are you to talk about etiquette? You sit at our table with your weapons, drink our tea, and laugh at us. Do you even know who my father is?” He glanced over at the older noble at the table. “He’s High Judge Aydin of the Imperial Court.” Nereyda shrugged. “I’m a pirate. I do what I want. And I don’t particularly care who your dad is.” “Stand and face me, coward.” She sighed and rolled her eyes as she lazily eased her feet from the top of the table. With the young man’s blade following her, she pushed herself to her feet and looked into his eyes with her purple gaze, but did not draw her own weapon. “Do you know how to use that thing?” He drew himself up straight and puffed out his chest. “I’ve had lessons since I was a child. I know what I’m doing.” “Oh, I’m sure you know how to swing it around with all the right moves. Maybe you even know where to stick it. But have you had to use it for real?” She took a step toward him and held his gaze with her own. “Have you ever had to kill a man?” she asked. “Have you ever been one wrong move from losing your own life or one right one from taking someone else’s?” His eyes flicked away for a moment. He swallowed but did not respond. Another step. “Have you ever looked into a man’s eyes as the life flickered out from them, just after you spilled his blood and guts from his belly?” The blood drained from his face, leaving him pale, and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, as if he wanted to retreat but held his ground out of pride. His grip loosened slightly, and the sword dipped lower. A third step, and the tip of his blade pressed against the leather armor over her sternum, resting between her breasts. “Now is your chance. You can get your first taste of blood right here, right now. I’d be honored to be your first,” she said as she stroked the length of his sword with her fingertips. “All it takes is one little thrust or a big one depending on the sword, and you can bring me to my knees. What do you say, boy? I hope you don’t disappoint me.” The young man dropped his sword arm to his side and slouched his shoulders. “Don’t worry. Even the best sometimes have trouble keeping it up.” He looked down at the deck, refusing to make eye contact. “Just take what you want and get out of here.” “I think my crew is just about done anyway. You’ve been a great date. Thanks for the tea!” Nereyda strutted past him and slid her hand over his shoulder. She looked around and saw that her crew had indeed almost finished collecting the passengers’ valuables. Nereyda ordered her crew to set about hauling their seized goods from the cruise ship to the hold of the Storm Raven. When all of it had been loaded, the crew of the Raven hauled in the boarding lines and cast off from the cruise ship. About the Author K lives in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where he works as a software developer. In his spare time, when he isn’t writing, he enjoys reading, working out, playing video games, and spending time with his wonderful fiancee, Bobbi. Some of his favorite authors are Tom Clancy, George R. R. Martin, and Sarah Maas. Author Links: Website│Goodreads│Twitter│Facebook Blog Tour Organized by:
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Summary:
Aemi lives in a village carved from stones and surrounded by sea. She wins spear-throwing competitions in disguise and earns slaps from her spoiled mistress by talking back. She hates being a slave. She survives by remembering her mother's tales of home, a paradise called Perilous. Aemi intends to find it. But then, black ships rise from the sea in the night. Aemi is captured and taken to Itlantis, an underwater world of cities and gardens encased in glass, dazzling technology. and a centuries-long war. She is determined to escape, even if it means conspiring with fellow prisoner Nol, who fills her with equal parts anger and desire. Even if it means impersonating her mistress. Even if it means fleeing into the territory of the Dron, the bloodthirsty barbarians of the deep. But when Aemi witnesses firsthand an attack by the Dron, she realizes not all is as it seems below the sea. And Perilous might be closer than she thinks.
EXCERPT ONE – The Contest
In this excerpt, Aemi can’t resist entering a contest against her least favorite person in the village—even though she is forbidden to as a female and a slave. “Haven’t they called your name yet?” I asked. Kit shook his head. “I’m going to lose,” he said, swiveling his head to look from me to the target set at the opposite end of the rock. “You know what happens to the one who finishes last.” I did know. While the winner had the honor of lighting the pyre, the loser was punished with six lashes across his back and no food from the feast. It was a cruel tradition, started by the spear master and meant to motivate the boys. I looked at my best friend with a sinking feeling. I’d seen him throw. “You throw better than any of them,” Kit said. “You would win if you were allowed to compete.” “Remind me why women can’t enter this competition?” I muttered. “She couldn’t win even if skinny girl thralls were allowed to compete,” a voice said behind us, the tone mocking. I turned my head and saw Tagatha leaning against the stone arch that led to the Village of the Rocks deep within the tunneled caves of the island. “Nol will win,” she said with a haughty smile. “He’s the best with a spear.” Tagatha sauntered past us to join the rest of the crowd, her sea green tunic fluttering in the wind and her anklets of sea shells jingling, and I choked on the injustice of it all. The spear master called Kit’s name. My friend froze and looked at me in a panic. “My father,” he whispered. “He’s going to be furious. I should have practiced more. I should have tried harder. I should have—” “Stop,” I said. “Give me your shirt and mask.” Kit stared at me. “What?” “Kitran, son of Karth,” the spear master bellowed again. “Your shirt and mask,” I repeated, and he pulled his shirt off and thrust both it and the mask at me. Kit always did whatever I said without question, a strange dynamic for a wealthy boy to have with a thrall, but it was the way things were between us. I yanked the fabric over my head and pulled up the hood of the tunic so it covered my eyes, then settled the mask over my face. I could walk like Kit. I’d done it a thousand times when we were children playing at mimicry. He had a distinctive way of dragging one foot every few steps. After grabbing the spear from Kit’s hand, I started toward the line of boys. The broad stone ground of the Training Rock was warm and smooth beneath my bare feet. A salt-scented wind teased the tendrils of hair escaping from beneath my hood. I straightened my spine and lifted my chin as if I belonged as I approached the group of boys and young men, who stood in a haphazard line before the target of wood. I took my place at the end of the line. The smell of salt filled the air. Gulls screamed overhead as the first boy drew back his arm and threw his spear. It glanced off the target and clattered on the rock. His face creased with disgust, and he turned away. The second boy threw, and the tip of his spear embedded itself in the corner of the target. I was better at throwing than any of these boys. I’d always been good at it, better than anyone else my age when I was small enough to swim in the shallows with the free children and sleep in my mother’s arms at night. My mother had beamed with pride to see me throw, and so I continued to hone my skill even after she was gone. Sometimes I went out to the edge of the rocks that formed a ring around the sea like a circle of stone arms, and I caught fish to put on the fire so Nealla and I could eat more than the meager food we were provided for our meals. I was better than all of them, but being a girl banned me from participating in the competition. At the front of the line stood Nol, the oldest in the competition and the favorite of the crowd. He cast a glance my way, but didn’t look long. I exhaled as he turned his head away. One by one, the boys threw their spears. They were still learning, and few were good yet. The aim of a fisherman was impeccable, once he’d mastered the art, but these were just boys. I swallowed as the boy beside me took his turn, and then it was mine. I stepped forward and hefted my spear. The weight was familiar in my hand. I inhaled, squinted at the target, and threw. The spear buried itself at the edge of the middle circle. A few of the boys cried out in appreciation. Sweat broke out across my back. I hadn’t meant to throw quite so well. Nol turned his head again to look at me. He wasn’t stupid, even if he was infuriating. He’d seen Kit throw before. I held my breath, and he looked away. Those who had struck the target gathered their spears and tried again. There were only a few of us, and the number rapidly dwindled. I threw poorly, but my spear seemed to swerve to meet the target against my will, and the rest of the boys threw with the skill of drunken monkeys. Finally, only Nol and I were left. My heart drummed in my chest. I didn’t dare look at Nol or the crowd. “You’ve improved, Kit,” Nol said as he passed me to retrieve his spear. It was clear by the way he strode toward the target that he thought victory was assured for him. He barely spared me a glance as he drew back his arm to throw. The crowd waited, breathless. Nol threw first. His spear struck the inner circle of the target, and he straightened, pleased. I could tell by his posture that he thought he’d won. The necklace of shell he always wore tinkled faintly as he turned to me. He yanked off his mask, and his expression was triumphant. “Your turn.” I drew my arm back and took aim. I heard the rush of the sea behind me, the cry of gulls above me, and the hiss of my breath over my teeth as I threw. Sea and gulls and breath combined to make music. I shut my eyes and threw. My spear hit the mark and quivered. It had struck closer to the center. The boys roared in approval and swarmed around me. Nol’s jaw tightened, and he shot a glance toward the crowd. I saw his father, the mayor, frowning. I stepped forward to receive my prize. As I passed Nol, suspicion crossed his face. He snatched off my mask, dislodging my hood in the process. My long hair tumbled down around my shoulders. Wind fanned my face. I was exposed. The crowd gasped. Nol let go of me as if he’d been burned. “It’s Tagatha’s thrall!” someone shouted. “You deceptive little brat,” the spear master snarled. “Where’s Kitran?” I ran. The spear master grabbed for me. His fingers slipped through my hair, giving one painful tug, then the strands ripped from my scalp and I ran faster. I reached the edge of the cliff, dropped Kit’s spear, and jumped. The rock was hard beneath my feet as I leaped, and then salty air rushed around me, the gulls’ screams filled my ears, and I was falling, falling, falling through air and wind and sunlight.
About the Author:
I'm the author of the Frost Chronicles, an Amazon bestselling series and source material for the adventure app game Frost by Delight Games, as well as numerous other fantasy and science fiction novels. I love putting a dash of mystery in everything I write, an ode to a childhood spent reading Nancy Drew, Agatha Christie, and Sherlock Holmes. I can’t resist adding a good twist in the story wherever I can. I wish I could live in a place where it’s always October, but until that’s possible, I make my home in humid Atlanta with my husband, children, and two spoiled cats.
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by Kim Chance Genre: YA Paranormal Fantasy Release Date: January 30th 2018 Flux Books Summary from Goodreads: When a 200-year-old witch attacks her, sixteen-year-old bookworm Lainey Styles is determined to find a logical explanation. Even with the impossible staring her in the face, Lainey refuses to believe itâuntil she finds a photograph linking the witch to her dead mother. After consulting a psychic, Lainey discovers that she, like her mother, is a Keeper: a witch with the exclusive ability to unlock and wield the Grimoire, a dangerous but powerful spell book. But thereâs a problem. The Grimoire has been stolen by a malevolent warlock who is desperate for a spell locked inside itâa spell that would allow him to siphon away the worldâs magic. With the help of her comic-book-loving best friend and an enigmatic but admittedly handsome street fighter, Lainey must leave her life of college prep and studying behind to prepare for the biggest test of all: stealing back the book.
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CHAPTER ONE
The Dragonâs Horde was as crowded as a Walmart on Black Friday.
By a sheer stroke of luck, Iâd managed to claim the last square inch of standing room left in the place. Wedged between a metal rack of colorful anime novels and a life-size cardboard cutout of Captain America, I used my SAT prep book as a barrier between me and the throng of cosplayers and super-nerds swarming the comic book store.
It was Superhero Saturday, and the tiny shop was packed with every die-hard fan within a fifty-mile radius. A hazard of living in a small town, I guess. With so little to do in Lothbrook, Georgia, the Hordeâs monthly meet-up event was as big a deal as the San Diego Comic Con.
âPandemonium,â I muttered as two brightly-colored, spandex-wearing individuals began a heated debate over which was betterâMarvel or DC. âNoun. Wild and noisy disorder; uproar.â
I rolled my eyes and tried to tune out the noise. I needed to have fifty new vocabulary words memorized by the end of the night, and the chaos around me was making it difficult to concentrate.
I cannot believe I let Maggie talk me into this. I groaned, burying my face deeper into the prep book. That girl owes me so bigâlike âname her first born after meâ kind of big.
I eyed my best friend standing a few feet away, talking animatedly to a boy with sandy brown hair and glasses. He was wearing a black Star Wars t-shirt and a newsy hat and looked exactly like the Pokémon-loving type of guy she usually gravitated toward.
Maggie was grinning and twisting a loose thread from her worn Batman t-shirt around her finger. Her thick black curls bounced around her shouldersâalmost in response to her enthusiasmâand her light brown cheeks were tinged with pink. She practically glowed.
âAww,â I said, turning to the cutout of Captain America. âLook! Nerd flirting at its best!â I chuckled at my own joke before turning my attention back to the list of words.
âSuperfluous. Adjective. Means additional or unnecessâArgh!â I squealed as a large, burly-looking dude dressed like the Hulk bumped into me, sending my SAT book flying and knocking me right into Captain America.
The guy gave me a rather authentic grunt as I struggled to keep myself and the Captain in the upright position.
âSorry,â he gruffed, handing me back my prep book.
âNo worries,â I said, with a wave of my hand.
He grunted again and then ambled toward his friends, a group of guys all wearing various forms of tights and Avengers gear. I took it as my cue to get a little fresh air.
Weaving in and out of the crowd, I paid little attention to the people around me. My goal, the wide double doors, was only a few steps away.
âNow where are ye going, yon pretty lady?â A guy dressed as Thorâcomplete with thunder hammer and winged helmetâblocked my path. His phony accent was as ridiculous as the rest of his costume. âYe should stay a while. I can show thou how I work my hammer.â He gave me a wide, toothy grin and jerked his head so that rounded arc of his hair flipped back into place.
I rolled my eyes. âSave it, Thunder God. I donât date guys who are more hair obsessed than I am. Maybe next time.â
I moved to sidestep him.
âDonât be like that,â Thor stepped in front of me again, dropping the accent this time. âIâm just looking for my own Jane Foster, darlinâ and I think she might be you.â He winked at me.
If thatâs supposed to be a panty-dropper, then this guy is more clueless than I thought. I rolled my eyes and tried again to step around him, but he was quick, holding out his hammer to block my path. This time he waggled his eyebrows at me.
I sighed. Clearly, Thor wasnât taking the hint. I looked past him, hoping to see Maggie or some other form of escape.
I spotted it standing a few feet away.
A tall guy in a dark gray t-shirt leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. He wasnât talking to anyone, and he looked about as thrilled as I was to be stuck in this circus of spandex. It was worth a shot.
âBabe!â I called over Thorâs shoulder. âThere you are!â I pushed past Thor and walked over to the guy. His eyes narrowed in confusion, and I gave him what I hoped was a pleading look. âIâve been looking for you!â I pulled him off the wall and linked my arm through his. Then I turned back to Thor and smiled widely.
Thor narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and my heart flickered with panic as the boy pulled his arm from mine. But then he snaked it around my shoulders and pulled me close.
âSorry, babe,â he said, his voice deeper than I expected. âI got a little distracted by all the hair tossing.â He looked pointedly at Thor, and then stared down at me, a crooked smile on his lips. This time my heart flip-flopped for a different reason.
I turned back to Thor, a triumphant smirk on my face.
He swung his hammer from one hand to the other, glared at me, and then stalked off.
I quickly stepped out of the strangerâs arms. âSorry about all that.â I shrugged. âWho knew Thor was such an arrogant asshole in real life?â
The boy in gray stared at me, his blue eyes bright with amusement. There was a faint streak of purple on his pale cheek, a bruise I hadnât noticed initially. I wanted to ask about it, and there was a strange urge flowing through my fingers to reach out and brush his cheek, but I stopped myself on both accounts. What the hell, Styles! Get a grip!
âIt must be all the hairspray affecting his brain,â he said, his smile widening.
My cheeks grew warm. âSo . . . you a big comic book fan?â
âI appreciate them, but big crowds like this? Not really my scene. A friend of mine paid me twenty bucks to drive him here tonight.â
âYeah, not really my scene either. Iâm more of a small group kind of gal.â
He chuckled and pointed to my prep book. âDoing a little light reading?â
âYou can never be too prepared,â I said, my cheeks blazing hotter. âThe test is in two days. Iâm graduating early and I have to get at least a 2200 to get into my top schools. The science programs are pretty competitive.â Oh my God. Could you sound like a bigger nerd?
He nodded politely. âThatâs pretty impressive.â
âIâve moved around a lot,â I said with a shrug. âTons of sleepy little towns where nothing ever happens. I want get out and see the world, ya know? So many things to see and discover. I figured why wait?â Stop. Just stop. I wanted to smack myself. Of all my quirks, nervous word-vomiting was definitely my least favorite.
âI think thatâs really cool,â he said, and then we stood there staring awkwardly at each other for a moment as if neither of us knew what to say next.
âSo . . . thank you,â I finally blurted out, much louder than I meant to.
âHappy to help.â He smiled, and that strange sensation washed over me again. It was like the cool underside of the pillow after a long day or the way hot cocoa warms you from the inside out after being in the cold for too long.
There was something oddly familiar about him, but I couldnât quite pinpoint what it was. âIâm sorry, but have we met before?â I asked.
His smile faltered and his eyes seemed to cloud over. âNo, I donât think so.â He looked down at his feet, scuffing the tile with his shoe. When he looked back up again, however, his smile had returned.
âRight,â I said. âWell, I really appreciate your help. My nameâs Lainey, by the way.â I held out my hand.
âNice to meet you, Lainey.â He took my hand in his. âIâm Ty.â
âLainey!â
I jumped as Maggie ran over and grabbed me by the arm, spinning me around in a circle. âGuess what?â she squealed. âThat guy I was talking to just asked me to go grab a coffee with him!â
âThatâs great, Mags,â I said, pulling myself from her grip with a laugh. I turned back to where Ty had been standing, but the patch of wall heâd occupied was empty. I scanned the crowd, but there wasnât a single stitch of gray in the sea of color. He was gone.
I sighed and turned back to Maggie, who proceeded to tell me every single detail of her conversation with Heath, the boy in the newsy hat.
âI told him Iâd have to take a rain check of course, but it was so nice to be asked!â
I frowned. âWait, why didnât you say yes?â
âI promised Iâd quiz you on your words if you came with me,â Maggie said with a shrug. âWhat kind of best friend would I be if I bailed on you like that?â
âAnd what kind of friend would I be if I didnât let you off the hook.â I smiled at her. âYou should go.â
Maggie narrowed her eyes at me. âAre you sure? Because you, Lainey Styles, are the true love of my life, and you come first.â
I grinned. âIâm totally sure. I need to be home early tonight anyway. Go have fun.â
âItâs just so rare to find someone who actually understands that Gwen Stacy was Peter Parkerâs one true love. Everyone is always Team Mary Jane.â
âSee? You have to go.â
Maggie squealed again and threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. âYouâre the best!â
âHave funâand text me when you get home.â
âWill do, Styles. Love you!â Maggie yelled over her shoulder as she scampered off.
âWell,â I said, hugging my SAT prep book to my chest. âGuess itâs just you and me then.â I sighed again and made my way toward the door.
Outside, the night air was crisp with a slight chill. Coats were usually unnecessary until the dead of winterâa âperkâ of living in the Deep Southâbut October had brought with it some unseasonably cool temperatures. I wasnât complaining; it was nice to be able to walk outside for ten minutes and not need a shower afterward.
The parking lot was less chaotic than inside the shop, but there were still dozens of people milling about. I dodged around a lightsaber fight and a very serious-looking game of Magic: The Gathering and made my way toward the sidewalk. My beat-up red Ford Escort was parked around the corner a few blocks down the street.
Lainey.
I jumped at the sound of my name and turned around. There was a family with two small children standing a few paces away and a group of middle-school-aged boys, but no one I recognized.
I looked around, shrugged, and kept walking.
Lainey.
This time the melodic, yet pleading voice was so close, it was as if someone were whispering in my ear. I shrieked a little and whirled around. âMaggie?â
There was no sign of her. A massive case of the heebie-jeebies pricked at my spine, but I shook it off, squeezing my SAT prep book a little tighter to my chest. There was a round of loud shouting as the lightsaber duel intensified, and more people were pouring out into the parking lot.
I shook my head. Maybe all the studying was starting to have an adverse effect on my brain. âAdverse,â I muttered, turning back toward the street. âPreventing success or development; harmful; unfavorable.â
A tall figure emerged from the shadows of the building. She stood apart from the crowd, her long skirt rustling around her legs like a bell in the breeze.
I stared at her. Her costume wasnât one Iâd seen before. She looked like she stepped off the page of a history book instead of a comic. There was something about her that held my attention; it was as if an invisible tether was linking us together. I couldnât look away.
As she stepped forward into a pool of light from one of the parking lot streetlights, all the blood drained from my face.
She looked older than me, but only by a few years, with long dark hair and hollow, sunken eyes, but it wasnât her face that sent my heart into my feet. Her dress and long green overcoat were stained crimson with blood.
She stood there staring at me with sad eyes, blood pouring through her fingers from a wound in her stomach.
I gasped, and stumbled backward, dropping my SAT book on my foot in the process.
âAre you okay?â The mother of the small children was staring at me, her eyebrows knitted together.
âThat woman over there,â I said, nearly choking on the words. âSheâs hurt!â I turned and pointed toward the shadows. âI sawââ I broke off.
There was no one there.
âSweetheart, are you sure youâre okay?â The motherâs wide eyes searched my face. âYou look like youâve seen a ghost.â
My eyes darted around the parking lot. But there was no blood, no body, no indication I had seen anything at all.
âSorry,â I managed to squeak. âI thought I saw something.â
I didnât bother with further explanation. I ducked my head and made a beeline for the sidewalk. My knees wobbled as I half ran to my car. Blood pounded in my ears, and a thick layer of goose bumps covered my skin.
Just think of something else. Anything else.
My brain was muddled but immediately began supplying me with the words I had been cramming into my head for weeks.
âConsternation. Noun. A feeling of anxiety or disbelief over something unexpected. Trepidation. Noun. A feeling ofââ
LAINEY!
The scream roared to life in my ears, and I took off running. I jammed my hand into my pocket for my keys and collided with the driverâs side door. I fumbled for the right key, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold on to them.
I forced the key into the lock. My hand wrapped around the door handle, pulling it open, but then I stopped. The dim light from the streetlamp was casting just enough glow to see hazy reflections in the window. The outline of my head and shoulders was familiar enough, but something was moving behind me.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Itâs not real. Just a really good costume. An early Halloween prank, even. Youâre exhausted and your brain is playing tricks on you. Itâs not real.
I turned around and opened my eyes. The bloody woman was standing right in front of me. Her deep green eyes, the same color as the ornate, pulsating stone that hung from her neck, burned into mine. Something inside me crumpled, like a wall that Iâd never known was standing. Every cell in my body pulled me toward the woman. The magnetism between us crackled through my veins.
I opened my mouth, but before I had the chance to scream, her icy hand shot out and gripped my arm above the elbow.
The moment our skin touched, a wave of electric energy shot up my arm and surged through my body. I cried out as a blistering light exploded before my eyes. My limbs quaked and the heat intensified, engulfing me in a fire that threatened to incinerate me from the inside out. I fell to the asphalt, collapsing against the inferno raging beneath my skin. The wave of electricity intensified with each beat of my heart. I cried out again.
Then, as quickly as it began, the pain disappeared. The world faded away, and everything went black.
About the Author
Kim Chance is an English teacher from Alabama, currently residing in Michigan with her husband and three children. When not writing, Kim enjoys spending time with her family and two crazy dogs, binge-watching Netflix, fangirling over books, and making death-by-cheese casseroles. Keeper is her first young adult novel. Kim is also a YouTuber who loves connecting with other writers. She posts videos at www.youtube.com/kimchance1 and is the creator of the #Chance2Connect chat on Twitter. Connect with her on Twitter: @_KimChance, Instagram: kimwritesbooks, Facebook: @kimwritesbooks, and on her website: www.kimchance.com.
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