Spark: Atthys J. Gage

People are dying downtown, their bodies shriveled away to almost nothing. The police are mystified and outrageous rumors are flying. Fifteen year-old Francy Macmillan listens, but says nothing. It isn't a comfort knowing that no matter how far-fetched the theories, the truth is even stranger.

For Francy, the truth wasn't very hard to find. It followed her home from basketball practice one night, a floating bauble of light that speaks inside her mind and shares her thoughts and her feelings. Is it an alien wanderer fallen from some distant star? Or a shard of some divine entity? Whatever it is, Spark seems to like her.

But as their friendship grows, a disturbing fact emerges: Spark knows who is responsible for those deaths. With Spark's help, it is up to Francy to stop them. Spark leads Francy into a strange alternate reality, along with her friends: beautiful Echo with the dragon tattoo; moody Brooke with the wicked jaw; and Owen Owens, the boy with the fascinating eyes who may just get around to kissing her one of these days—assuming the world doesn't end first.

And the interview...

1. I write because…     Cliff-diving is too scary. 

2. If I were your favorite cookie, what would I be?    I'm just going to go ahead and say it:  oatmeal raisin. 

3. Plotter or pantser?   Plotter. A plodding plotter. I spend a great deal of time sketching out exactly what is going to happen, scene by scene. Then, as often as not, I ignore half of what I've written. 

4. What is your favorite type of character to write about and why?     I like mouthy, opinionated girls. I don't even have to plan them. At some point, in nearly every book, one of them plants herself center-stage and starts stealing all the good lines.  In Spark, it was Brooke.

5. Hamburgers or sushi?    Depends on my mood. They might just be two great tastes that taste great together. A sushi burger could be terrific. Hamburger sushi probably isn't such a great idea.

6. Name three things on your desk.   A nearly empty cup of tepid coffee.  Two telephones.  Unpaid bills. 

7. What books have influenced your writing style?     It's less a matter of particular books and more a matter of certain authors.  Delany, Patchett, McCarthy, Russ, Tiptree, Borges, Nabokov, Melville… how's that for highbrow?

8. Tell us a little about your book.    Okay. Girl meets fleck. Together they save the world. All right, maybe not quite so flip. Spark is a romp—a tale of love and trust and friendship in the face of an impossible calamity. It's about basketball and gnostic philosophy and thermodynamics (did I mention it was a romp?)

9. What advice do you have for new and aspiring authors?     Get lots of rest. Eat nourishing foods. Try to get outdoors once in a while. If I did these things, I'm sure it would make me a better writer.

10. What is next on your writerly horizon?    There's a book called The Flight of the Wren. The protagonist is a painfully ordinary high school girl—disaffected, disconnected, utterly disinterested in school, family, even friends. She is, in short, a typical teenage mess. She has no special powers, no special insights, not even a belief in herself.  Because I am a benevolent (if inscrutable) god, I toss her a lifeline. A gift. An impossible gift: a flying carpet. But there are strings attached. With it comes both a community (the other members of her flock) and a purpose, a mission. 

Top 5 favorite (pick one) desserts, movies, things to eat, ice cream flavors, books.    Mandarin Chocolate Sherbert, Black Cherry,  Chocolate Oreo,  Peanut Butter Fudge,  Chocolate Moosetracks.  

Excerpt:

Snap! The air cracked like a cap pistol. Something bright flew across the room.

I wheeled around with my hand still full of hair.

"What the…?"

It flared orange—then red—a bright floating fleck of light. I watched it swirl, slowly stirring the air, rising like an ember from a campfire.

Fire!

I dropped my hairbrush. My hair was on fire! I grabbed my head with both hands, pawing through my hair. "No, no, no...!"

But I couldn't feel anything burning. I checked in the mirror. Nope. Not on fire. Not even a little.

I turned around again. The fleck hovered at eye-level now. It wasn't orange any more. It was blue. I leaned in a little closer. It blinked white, then blue again.

"Okay, this is..."

But really, I couldn't think of a word that fit. I circled it in slow, careful steps. It stayed still, dangling in the air. I reached out a finger. The fleck flashed silver and spiraled upward, before settling at eye level again. Reflected in the dresser mirror, a second fleck performed the same maneuver.

"What are you?" My voice quavered a little. I wasn't scared—not exactly—but I could feel my heart beating pretty fast. I leaned in closer.

"What were you doing in my hair?" It made a tight vertical loop, pulsing green, blue, then green again.

"Why are you doing that?" I don't know why I kept asking it questions like I thought it could answer. I guess I was really talking to myself. I pushed my lips out and blew, just gently. The fleck flickered in the tiny draft, but it didn't blow away. If anything, it drew a little closer. I had the sudden impulse to run downstairs and get a jar from the kitchen and see if I could catch it, but I didn't do that. Instead, I put my hand out. The fleck danced in until it was barely an inch above my open palm. I braced myself and watched it settle into my hand. It was cool and tiny on my skin.

"Hey," I whispered. "What are you?"

It glowed and I heard a sound, low and metallic: bonk.

"Was that you?"

There was a chirp, and then a low warbling hoot like when you blow air over the top of a bottle. None of these sounds came in through my ears. They were just there, sounding inside my head.

Again, it went bonk. That seemed to be its favorite. A click, a whistle, a little wooden pop. Far-off thunder rumbled. Quiet at first, it rose up inside me, getting bigger and louder. The sound swooped up into a squeal, then dropped even faster to a sub-woofer grumble and faded to silence.

"Is this supposed to mean something?"         

It made a soft chugging noise, like a little toy train. The whole time, the thing just sat there glowing in my palm.

"I don't think we're getting anywhere."

It rose into the air until it hung just a few inches from my nose. I stared. It glowed blue, flashed silver, then paled to dull violet.

"It's okay," I said, and this time I was totally talking to myself. "This isn't really happening. It's a dream. I'm dreaming. A dream about a little fleck of light that floats around, making strange noises..."

Then, it flared bright crimson and flew straight into my head.

About the author:

Atthys Gage is a writer and musician with a lifelong love for myth, magic, and books. His second real job was in a bookstore. As was his third, fourth, fifth and sixth. Eventually, he stopped trying to sell books and started writing them. After studying classics at Haverford College, he developed an interest in the ways that ancient stories influence modern story-telling, and has always had a fascination for that cloudy borderline between the normal and the paranormal. He lives on the coast of Northern California with his long-suffering wife, strong-willed children, and several indifferent chickens.

Deviation

This post is part of a cover reveal for the re-release of Christine Manzari's DEVIATION. One randomly drawn winner will be awarded a $25 Amazon/BN gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Being a Sophisticate of the Program seems like it’d be a pretty sweet deal: a little genetic alteration and anyone can be smarter, faster, and stronger. It’s a dream come true. All you have to give up is your freedom.

Cleo is a Sophisticate and she has a bright future in the Program. But she has a secret. When she gets upset, bad things happen. Explosive things. Things she can’t control.

When her secret is discovered, she’s sent to the Academy to train in the military branch of the Program. She’s destined to be a human weapon in the war that’s been going on since Wormwood occurred nearly 30 years ago. She soon learns that although her ability is unique, there are others like her — other Sophisticates with lethal skills and odd code names like Archerfish and Mimic Octopus.

Immersed in a dangerous game of supernatural powers and dubious motives, Cleo doesn’t know who to trust. Ozzy, the annoyingly attractive cadet who has perfect aim in weapons class and deviant lips behind closed doors, begs her not to use her powers. He’s the golden boy of the Program, but can she trust him? Or will she find herself a target, caught in his crosshairs?

Enjoy an excerpt:

“Late on your first day?”

I turned to find the dark haired boy still leaning against the wall. The top button of his shirt was undone and his tie was slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t wearing his jacket and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing his tan, muscular forearms. His tousled hair hung across his forehead, nearly falling into his eyes, and it appeared he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning.

“You’re late, too,” I pointed out. I also wanted to point out that his uniform was far from uniform or acceptable according to St. Ignatius policy.

The boy shook his head and then ran his hand back through his messy curls, trying to tame them into submission. “Not late. Sick.”

“Sorry to hear that,” I said, because I couldn’t think of any better response. It was obvious the boy wasn’t sick, he was skipping class. “Look, I really have to go. It was nice meeting you.”

“But we haven’t met,” he responded.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“We haven’t actually met yet,” he explained, pushing away from the wall. “Name’s Ozzy,” he said, holding out his hand.

I looked at his hand. “Is it contagious?”

He tilted his head causing the unruly curls to tumble back across his forehead. “I don’t follow.”

“Your sickness, I don’t want to catch anything.”

“Right,” he said, a wide grin dimpling across his face as he pulled his hand back and returned it to his pocket. “Well then, I should let you get to class I suppose.” He turned and walked down the hallway, the opposite direction from my classroom. “It was nice meeting you, Clementine,” he called back over his shoulder.

“I never told you my name,” I said calmly, even though I was a little unnerved that he knew my name.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Apparently, I do,” I retorted. “I don’t answer to Clementine.”

Ozzy chuckled without turning around. “See you around, Cleo.”

About the Author:

The first thing Christine does when she's getting ready to read a book is to crack the spine in at least five places. She wholeheartedly believes there is no place as comfy as the pages of a well-worn book. She's addicted to buying books, reading books, and writing books. Books, books, books. She also has a weakness for adventure, inappropriate humor, and coke (the caffeine-laden bubbly kind). Christine is from Forest Hill, Maryland where she lives with her husband, three kids, and her library of ugly spine books.

Website: www.christinemanzari.com
Email: christine@christinemanzari.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/ChristineManzari
Twitter: twitter.com/Xenatine
Instagram: instagram.com/xenatine
Pinterest: pinterest.com/xenatine/
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/Christine_Manzari

Buy the book at Amazon, Smashwords, or Smashwords.

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Awakening: Print Release

Forget everything you ever thought to be true about our world. Angels are real. And they are fighting for control over the human race.

What would you do if you learned everything you knew about the world was wrong? Microbiology student Elena Michaels is about to find out. After a few chance encounters with Alexavier Edmunds, a strange but intriguing student on campus, Elena is on the run from an ancient organization of angel-like beings. Strange things are awakening within her, and there is only one with the answers—the Elder. But can she make it to him in time?

Buy Link

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AWAKENING EXCERPT

Elena's face felt cold as the blood drained from it. She had not seen the woman's mouth move while she spoke. She sobered almost instantly, the hackles on her neck rising as she stared at the woman's cold smile. She recognized the voice in a moment of lucidity as the one she had heard at the airport, their tail, their stalker—one of the Opposition.

My mistress was right, the woman's voice continued. She told me it would be a matter of time before one of you two slipped up. The amazing thing is you both slipped up at the same time. The woman turned to Elena.

The woman stood nearly a whole foot shorter than Elena and appeared much more fragile. Elena tried to gauge whether or not she would be able to handle this woman on her own. She knew from experience Daimon men were quite powerful, but never expected such strength from females.

Let me clue you in on some secrets. First, Daimon men cannot handle their liquor. In fact, all Daimones are very quickly undone by alcohol. The woman eyed Elena up and down before saying, Second, you could never take me on. To illustrate her point, the small woman gripped the countertop and crushed a small section of it into powder.

"What do you want from me?" Elena asked.

The choice is simple, the woman replied mentally. Either come with me to see my mistress. Or...

"Or?" Elena asked, realizing she would regret this decision.

Or you and your companion die, the woman replied. A placid and sickly happy smile spread across her face as she said it.

The woman's evident pleasure at making such a dire threat sent a chill down Elena's spine. She conjured up the most severe feeling of pain she could imagine and directed it right at the Daimon woman as she had done to the other Daimon in Canada. However, instead of the anticipated effect of crippling pain she had seen in the Daimon man, the woman's eyes flashed, and then she laughed.

Silly girl, the woman said to her mentally. I am no mere weakling. Your foolish mind games have no effect on me.

Alec...I need your help! Elena cried out, hoping beyond hope he would hear and come to her aid.

The woman started laughing even louder. A terrifying grin crossed her face. He can't hear you. Alcohol impairs Daimon abilities. And Alec has had a few too many. I guess I shouldn't have bought him so many rounds!

Elena didn't wait for the woman to move. Filled with blind rage over being trapped by this woman, she pressed her attack. If her death was on the menu, then she would take this woman with her as dessert.

Elena bowled into the small Daimon woman, throwing all of her weight into the attack. To her surprise, the woman fell backward with her arm clutching at the sink.

She didn't stay down for long, though and responded by pushing back at Elena with startling speed, shoving her back a few paces.

Elena responded as fast. She threw her hands up in anticipation of the Daimon woman's attack. However, she couldn't fathom what kind of attack to expect coming at her.

The small woman was lithe. She maneuvered herself underneath Elena's arms and thrust upward with both arms like lofting a volleyball lifting Elena off of her feet and throwing her into the far wall. Elena managed to turn herself sideways in order to absorb her impact with the wall and push herself off into a counterattack.

Elena rushed across the room. The woman crouched at her approach. Instead of missing her target, however, Elena lowered her center of gravity and leapt, flying over the woman's back. While sailing over her opponent's body, Elena stretched out and grasped the woman around the waist.

Elena's momentum carried her forward, and she tucked her head and rolled, pulling the Daimon woman off her feet and flipping her onto her head with startling force. The Daimon's legs flailed and slammed into the large wall mirror, shattering it.

But she did not stay down for long. Before Elena could right herself, the woman leapt up and moved back across the room. Elena stood and whirled to face the woman but was caught off guard as a fist struck her across the face. Surprisingly, it did not carry much force. Elena brushed the blow off and delivered her own to the woman's chest, forcing the woman back several feet.

The Daimon crumpled, winded by the force of Elena's attack. When the Daimon stood again, she clutched a large shard of the broken mirror, which she wielded like a knife.

Author bio:

Scott Wieczorek is a professional archaeologist working in the American Middle-Atlantic region. He has written numerous short stories and several full-length novels ranging from science fiction, to paranormal mystery, to horror. In addition, he writes reviews of books by Independent authors. Samples of his work are available on his blog at wieczorekfictblog.blogspot.com.

No Light Super Book Blast

This post is part of a book blast organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter will be awarded a $20 Amazon/BN gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The Dems have been held captive since before the world was made. They are the darkness only spoken of in whispers. As much as they are hated and feared, those who guard them are even more so. The pariahs of society, they live apart from the rest of the world in a settlement called Ameritat. That is where The Dems Trilogy begins. An unlikely and dangerous love between a human guard and the most feared of all the Dems. It will be the beginning or the ending of everything.

Sarah Mackenzie was never meant to be a guard, never meant to descend into the bowels of the earth, but The Corridor is where she is sent. With little information and even less training, she is thrust into her position as a Dem handler. She walks a thin line between life and death, as she tries to uphold her family honor and unlock the mystery of the Dem’s captivity. The pursuit of truth will drag her deep into a world of corruption, hatred, and greed and she will have to decide where her loyalties lie. With the humans who have mistreated her or the Dem who could destroy them all.

Enjoy an excerpt:

"Dem, can you hear me?" She stepped to the door and gasped.

"Yes, human. I hear you." The Dem pulled open the door and reached for her. "Rule one. Do not disengage the locks when the prisoner is not restrained." His tone was full of dark amusement.

Sarah stared at him with wide eyes, too terrified to move. His fingers circled her arms. He jerked her forward and a choked gasp left her throat, as her toes skimmed the floor before it fell away. Her mind raced, but she forced herself still as he lifted her until they were eye to eye.

"Name?" he demanded.

"Sarah Mackenzie." She swallowed hard. She would be like the ones who had fallen, her remains something to be cleaned from the floor.

"Age?"

She tried not to tense when he brought his face to her neck and inhaled deeply.

"Twenty-two." The lie tried to stick in her throat.

He pulled back and gave her a dark look. "Try again."

"Eighteen," she whispered, tensing when his lips pulled back from his teeth in a shark smile.

"A lie, Sarah? How nice that you are not as innocent as you look."

About the Author:

Writer of cross genre romance, Devi Mara, grew up in rural Missouri. An avid reader and writer, she found inspiration in the people and places around her. The result, a fluid concept of the romance subgenres.

Her debut novel, No Light, was released in January of 2014 and is the first book in the Dems Trilogy. It was followed by her first stand-alone novel, Kingdom Come, in May. The second novel of the Dems Trilogy, Darkness Blooming, was released in August of 2014.

Devi is a lover of coffee and chocolate and partakes in both daily. She lives in Missouri with her family. Including two dogs too human for their own good.

She loves hearing from readers and encourages them to message her on Facebook or contact her on Twitter. She is always open to questions and comments.

Website: www.devimara.com
Blog: devimarawrites.blogspot.com
Twitter: @devimarawrites
Facebook: www.facebook.com/devimarawrites
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Aegis Rising

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly drawn commenter will receive a $40 Amazon GC. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Over a remote northern forest, a small plane carrying five teenage friends flies into a freak storm. Struck by lightning, the aircraft crashes and the passengers find themselves cast into a life-changing adventure.

In a hidden valley, a mysterious people gaze at the stormy sky as a glowing object with fiery wings disappears behind a mountain ridge. The astonishing sight reignites an ancient prophecy foretelling the arrival of five chosen ones destined to become bearers of light against a dark storm gathering on humanity's horizon.

In a distant city, a secretive organization led by a shadowy figure initiates a sequence of cataclysmic events designed to wreak havoc across the planet, beginning with a remote mining site in northern Canada.

As the three worlds collide, unlikely heroes arise. Armed with powers entrusted to them by the ancient prophecy and the resilience of their life-long bond, the five teens take a stand against a malevolent foe.

REVIEW: "Astonishingly imaginative and thoughtful. Aegis Rising sets a festive narrative table and makes the reader eagerly anticipate a sequel." ~ Samuel F. Pickering, Professor Emeritus of English, University of Connecticut & Inspiration for the film Dead Poet's Society ~

Sprinting like a madman, he soon reached his house. Smoke and flames shot out from the roof as he barged through the main door. Fumes and ashes began to choke his lungs. He coughed as he called out to his family.

No answer. Terrified, Mokun tore through his abode. His eyes teared up so terribly from the smoke that he could hardly see where he was going as the unbearable heat weighed down on him. His heart pounded as he struggled to breathe. He couldn’t find his family anywhere. Then a thought struck him: the cellar! They may have panicked and sought safety below ground.

He ripped off the hem of his tunic and tied it around his nose and mouth. The smoke was so thick he was forced to feel rather than see his way to the cellar. He found the door to the cellar opened and tripped over the steps in his haste, falling to the ground. He pulled himself up and called out again to his loved ones. He got no response and stepped forward. His foot bumped against something and he jumped back.

With growing dread, he knelt down in the darkness, squinting to make out three huddled shapes. He froze in horror, oblivious to the danger around him. His five-year-old daughters were huddled against their mother, and his wife had her arms wrapped around the twins. They didn’t move.

About the Author:

S.S.Segran spent a good chunk of her childhood exploring the enchanted forest of a million tales in the mystical land of books. In her early teens, she began crafting intriguing new worlds and conjuring up characters who came alive with the flick of her wand... err... pen. With the publication of Aegis Rising in her senior year of high school, she was surprised by the abundance of time that magically appeared right after graduation. She plans to use this newfound resource to expand the arc of the Aegis Series. Her future plans include studying Cognitive Science at university and helping youths in developing countries realize their potential through the non-profit organization, Aegis League (www.aegisleague.org)

When not devouring a book or writing one, S.S.Segran can be found standing behind the cauldron of life, stirring a potion made up of chores, parkour, gaming, drawing, horseback riding and—having recently jumped off a perfectly fine airplane at fifteen thousand feet – perhaps skydiving.

• website: www.aegisnovel.com
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/aegisnovel
• Youtube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/user/segranbooks
• Buy the book at Amazon.

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Eternal: A Guest Post from CC Hunter

All her life, Della's secret powers have made her feel separated from her human family. Now, she's where she belongs, at Shadow Falls. With the help of her best friends Kylie and Miranda, she’ll try to prove herself in the paranormal world as an investigator—all the while trying to figure out her own heart. Should she chose Chase, a powerful vampire with whom she shares a special bond? Or Steve, the hot shapeshifter whose kisses make her weak in the knees? When a person with dark connection to her past shows up, it’ll help her decide which guy to choose–and make her question everything she knows about herself. 

From bestselling author C.C. Hunter comes Eternal—a must-read for fans of the Shadow Falls series—and the sequel to Reborn.

Three Tips for Writing a Young Adult Paranormal Series

1.       It doesn’t matter if you are writing vampires, shape-shifters, or hunchback dragons, if you are writing for teens you need to get in touch with your inner teen. 

I didn’t set out to write young adult novels.  I was dragged here kicking and screaming.  LOL.  I was writing humorous romantic suspense novels, when I was approached to write a YA series.  You see, it had been quite a few years since I’d been a teen.  Did I know what was important to today’s teens?  Did I know what they wanted, what they feared, what made them laugh?  I worried I’d fail at trying to write from a teen’s perspective.  So the first thing I did was take a stroll down memory lane.  It wasn’t a walk in the park either.  You see, I didn’t have what I would call the ideal teenage life.  It wasn’t until midway through that mental journey that I realized this was going to work in my favor.  I decided right then and there to plagiarize.  From my own life, of course.   Along this path, I realized that everything that had been important to me as a teen was still relevant to teens today.  As a young adult I’d dealt with sex, alcohol, drugs, and negative self-esteem.  These issues are still what our teens deal with today.  And to write a novel that will resonate with teens, you need to be able to remember how you related, feared, longed for and dealt with those four things. 

2.       Don’t attempt to write a message to the young people. 

It’s important to remember that your job as a novelist is to entertain.  Definitely not to preach.  Not to teach, or even to inspire.  Now, before you start getting your backs up, let me explain.   Preaching is out.  Completely.  Today’s teens do not want to preached at.  Nor do they read novels to be taught something.  They read text books to be taught.  They don’t pick up fictional books to be inspired to be a better person.  They read to be entertained. 

That said, books can be fabulous tools for teens to learn from and can offer tons of inspiration.  But it’s not you who should do this.  It’s your characters.  Whatever problems your characters face and the lessons they learn from them will offer an opportunity for the reader to learn as well.  Whatever inspires your character is a chance to inspire your reader.   Almost all story characters have arcs.  They will grow within a book’s lifespan.  Find your character’s arc, show them struggling to overcome hurdles, show their growth.  And while your readers turn those pages, enthralled with your story, your book will have offered them not only entertainment, but something that may help them as they journey through their own lives.

3.       Never give up!

You have to love to write.  You have to love to learn.  The journey from unpublished author to published author can be difficult.  More difficult for some than others.  Each of us starts this journey with our strengths and weaknesses.   Some writers were born knowing what a dangling participle is.  Some are comma impaired and terrible spellers.  Some are natural storytellers.  Some have learned pacing and conflict just from reading.   Others have read all their life and still need to learn the tricks of the trade.  The truth is, more important than what you know is your willingness to learn.  And how long you are willing to persevere.  

Being dyslexic, I struggled with the written word all my life—still do. The day I decided to become a writer, I had to learn to spell it.   If I had any natural talent, it was storytelling, but it was a long road from there to finishing a rough draft.  It was ten years from the time I started writing to the time I published my first book.  That might sound tough, but it got tougher.  It was thirteen more years before my second book was sold. Some people think of me as an overnight success, and I want to ask them, “Exactly what night was that in those twenty-three years that it happened?”  

It was not one night.  It was a journey.  As rejections rolled in, and I have thousands of them, it would have been easy to give up.  But being a writer was my dream.  I was willing to take this journey even knowing there were no guarantees.  Why?  Because I loved writing.  And that is my parting advice.  Write because you love it.  There is nothing wrong with working toward publication and financial gain.  But if that had been the reason I was writing, I don’t think I’d have hung in there for twenty-three years.  

Alexandra Fry: Private Eye-Tutankhamun's Gift

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Now an 8th grader and the senior of Sage Brush Middle School, Alexandra Fry is looking forward to having a nice, calm, mystery-free year. But her hopes are dashed when she's visited by none other than the famous boy Pharaoh, Tutankhamun who has a very special request: to find the carved jade crocodile that once belonged to the mummy of his unborn child. With a fight brewing between Alexandra and her two best friends, Penelope and Jack, this case won't be as easy as it seems.

New friends, a first crush, and a new threat from the spirit world, Alexandra must use everything she's learned to uncover the mysteries in this case. Who is the bad guy this time? Who can she trust? And above all, what is the Shadow Man?

It's up to Alexandra, her friends, and possible new allies to save the day in the thrilling new tale of Alexandra Fry, Private Eye.

Enjoy an excerpt:

With a groan, I threw my legs off the side of the bed, stood up, and turned. I let out a tiny yelp when suddenly Tut was there, his face drawn and concerned. “Alexandra,” he said with a slight bow.

“Oh! Did you hear my call?”

“Loudly.” His well-sculpted eyebrows were up in surprise, and he took a step back as I brushed by him.

I went right for the mini-fridge for one of the six-dollar bottles of water, hoping my mom wouldn’t be too mad at the bill when we finally checked out. I uncapped it and took a long drink. “Okay, so…” Hesitating, I finally spilled out the entire hospital scene. I did my best to explain the Shadow Man, and explain exactly what I’d seen. “Have you ever heard of anything like that before?”

Tut shook his head, his face drawn and concerned. “No. Alexandra, I assure you, we have no power over the living.”

“Well, this thing does,” I said, throwing my arms up. “Trust me, he was hurting her, and she’s already suffering enough. Is there any way you can find out what happened?”

“Of course.” I froze at his words, half-expecting him to argue with me that he was hiring me to find stuff, not the other way around. He seemed to notice my shock and his head shook. “It’s the very least I can do for you.”

About the Author: Angella Graff was born and raised in the desert city of Tucson, Arizona. She married and became a mother very young, and after getting started with her family, began her University studies where she found her passion for creative writing, history and theology.

She now resides in Tucson with her husband Joshua, three children, Christian, Isabella and Adia, and their three cats and three dogs.

angellagraffbooks.wordpress.com
https://www.facebook.com/AngellaGraffAuthor
@pantsarefancy
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Angella-Graff/e/B009GLDA9C
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Black Cats and Ballet Shoes

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

Gemma Mayfield feels like middle school is a lot to bite off and chew. School, ballet classes, and planning on how to get Trevor Davis to ask her to the Halloween Dance are a tough balancing act. On top of that, Gemma is convinced that her science teacher, Ms. Pruett, is a witch.

When things start getting fishy at school, Gemma knows that Ms. Pruett is behind it all! Students are getting spells placed on them and start to go missing. Gemma and her best friend, Izzie, vow to stop Ms. Pruett from doing any more damage. Will they be able to save Middleton Middle School from witchcraft?

Enjoy an excerpt:

One of my favorite moves in ballet is called the grand battement. It’s where you kick up your leg high into the air. Because I’m the tallest person in dance class (with the longest legs, too), Madame Lisette always gets excited and claps her hands together. “Very good, very good! Don’t forget to point those toes!” Now, I always get excited when I do them, too, because I get to pretend like I’m kicking off Madame Lisette’s prim glasses from the tip of her pointy nose. It’s a win-win situation for both of us. This is one of the reasons why I love ballet.

At the end of class today, Madame Lisette passed out an info sheet about where the recital was going to take place. Izzie started rummaging in her purse and took out the sheet for the witch coven meeting. “Look!” she said, pretty much smacking me with the sheet and almost giving me a paper cut. “Our performance and the coven meeting are both going to be on Sunday night, and they’re only a few blocks away from each other!”
,br> “So if we sneak away right when we get off stage…” I didn’t even have to answer that sentence before Izzie grabbed my hands and started jumping up and down.

“Eeeeeeeeee! We’re totally going!”

“Izzie, keep your voice down!” Geez, it was a coven meeting, not a party! But I couldn’t help but jump up and down with her a bit. I must admit, it was sort of exciting having the bejeezus scared out of you.

About the Author:

Iva Valentino lives in Arizona with her husband and their dog, Lupo. She graduated from the University of Arizona with a Bachelor’s degree in Biology and a Master’s degree in Education. She loves living year-round in the warm desert.

Iva spent many years as a middle school teacher, where she enjoyed doing fun science experiments with her students. She currently works as a science editor at an educational publishing company. She loves travel, yoga, and photography. There is nothing that brings her more happiness than a good dance class!

Website: www.IvaValentino.com
Blog: www.ivavalentino.com/blog Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ivaavalentino

Buy the book at MuseItUp Publishing, Amazon, or Barnes and Noble. (on sale for $1.35 at publisher and Amazon)

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Lycaon Monday: Arrows

Greetings fellow YA readers! Welcome back to another Lycaon Monday! Today we have with us the amazing Lara Hues who is dishing on all things writing and secret cookie love. Take it away Lara!

1.  I write because…

I have to get characters and stories out of my brain. If I don’t write, I don’t sleep.

2. If I were your favorite cookie, what would I be?

My favorite cookie is white chocolate chip macadamia nut.

3. Plotter or pantster?

Depends on the book. ARROWS mostly wrote itself from events in my own life.

4. What is your favorite type of character to write about and why?

Probably young adults, usually women, who experience a paradigm shift and start acting rather than being acted upon.

5. Hamburgers or sushi?

Hamburgers. But I’m more prone to order a chicken sandwich than a burger.

6. Name three things on your desk.

Desk? What desk? I type on my laptop on the couch or in bed. Three things on my living room floor: diaper bag, wooden beaded bracelet, Risk.

7. What books have influenced your writing style?

Along with most of the literate world, I loved reading Harry Potter and getting lost in the world that J.K. Rowling created. When an author creates a world and story, you can forget your own stresses and fears and worries and focus on the story. I dream of the day I can write with such detail and emotion as she does.

8. Tell us a little about your book.

I got the idea for Arrows while I was attending college in Hawaii and facing the challenges inherent in dating life. In Arrows, Emalie struggles to find real, sincere love because all the men who ever see her eyes fall in love with her. I think most people, girls and women especially, struggle with the similar dilemma of wondering how much of their romantic relationships are based on physical traits or emotional ones. 

9. What advice do you have for new and aspiring authors?

Your first book will probably not be that great. My first two were terrible and after years of writing and re-writing and editing, I finally decided to let them be and move on. Then I wrote a new book and realized that my writing was way better. If you are a new and/or aspiring writer, just write. Read and write and if something isn’t great, move on. If I’d been persistently stuck on my first book, I may have eventually found someone to publish it, but I’m glad I didn’t because now that I’m a much better writer, I’d be embarrassed by it.

10. What is next on your writerly horizon?

I’m editing a shape-shifer story, proofing a YA science fiction, waiting to hear back from an agent on an adult thriller, and about 10K words from finishing my first historical fiction.

Top five favorite books/series: Harry Potter series, His Dark Materials trilogy, Wind on Fire trilogy, Sabriel, and The Two Princesses of Bamarre.

Blurb: 

Much like a Greek siren with the curse of broken-hearted suitors scattered throughout her past, Emalie goes away to college hoping to leave her old habits behind and find real love.  To her immense displeasure, her habitual wearing of sunglasses as a means to protect potential ‘prey’ of her powers proves to be ineffective.   Almost immediately, a boy named Quincy sees her blue, beautiful eyes, and as though they are Cupid’s arrows, he is struck with love.  His reaction is much less overbearing than previous ‘victims’ of her eyes and this makes her genuinely like him. 

Only a few hours later however, an older college boy (Tony) kidnaps her for a game with some friends and she must use her eyes to escape the dangerous encounter. The downside to the escape: Tony falls in love with her. Struggling against her feelings of vulnerability and the belief that she is a victim of circumstance unable to influence the plot of her life, she must make a choice. She can either continue a life of captive, possessive love with Tony or take a leap, risk her secrets, and pursue her goal of finding love unsolicited by her cursed eyes.

Buy Link

http://www.lycaonpress.com/index.php?main_page=product_free_shipping_info&cPath=1&products_id=43

Excerpt:

"Take me back now!" I shouted. There was no one in the restaurant to see the scene that was happening. The pocketknife was still within my reach. My fingers were sweaty as I flipped open the blade only to find that there was no blade. It was another trick. My hands were slippery and shaky as I dropped the useless knife on the ground. Anthony watched the whole thing, rolling his eyes and snickering.

"I'll take you back when I want to," Anthony said and suddenly his face was not so jovial. "Now sit down. No one leaves till I say they do. I'm in charge; not you."

The waitress brought the food over and began passing it out, no change from her previous behavior. It seemed she had seen physical disagreements in this restaurant before.

"If you don't take me back right now I will call the police." I pulled out my phone.

Their laughter and chatter hit my ears loudly and my breathing got heavy.

"Lucas," Anthony said, gesturing to my phone. Quickly and roughly, Lucas tore the phone from my hand right in front of the waitress and shoved it into his deep pockets. He grabbed my face and kissed my cheek aggressively.

"Don't!" I protested.

"No," Lucas said, breathing hot spicy breath into my face. "You don't."

"Anthony," I said, making my voice sweet. "Tony." I was taking a big risk. There was no way of knowing what Anthony's reaction would be. Things were getting bad fast and I would do anything to get out of there.

"What?" His voice was heavy with irritation as he wheeled around to face me.

I took off my sunglasses in one swift motion.

Anthony dropped to his knees at my feet and began to cry. "Em, my sweet Em. I have upset you. How could I have done this?"

I put the glasses back on. It was that simple. It was always that simple. That's what made real love—real, unsolicited love—so impossible for me to find.

Author bio:

To state the glaringly obvious, Lara Hues like to write, however, she doesn’t like writing about herself. Maybe that's because it's strictly non-fiction, which isn't so much her cup of tea. That being said, a cup of tea isn't really her cup of tea. She prefer hot chocolate or lemonade. Sure, aspects of her character and details from her own life find their way into the pages of her stories, but that's only natural since she’s the author.

Her first young adult book CERKEL was a semi-finalist in the Amazon breakthrough novel contest when she was eighteen. Since then, she’s tackled a handful of other projects ranging from adult thrillers about kidnappers to middle grade stories of mermaids.  ARROWS is her first published work of what she hopes to be many.

Lara was born in Utah, moved to Massachusetts for middle and high school, and attended college in Hawaii where she graduated with a degree in Cultural Anthropology and received a TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) certificate. She can’t for the life of her figure out why she didn’t just study creative writing since she’s been doing it since she was fourteen and it’s a passion that’s stuck with her through the years.

Her character flaws, which double as her greatest strengths, are audacious honesty and child-like optimism. Lara owns a small jewelry business named Zaria’s Box, where she is the designer and creator. She enjoys learning languages and knows at least one phrase in over sixty languages. She is deeply religious and doesn’t believe in being bored.

 The month after Lara’s college graduation she married a devilishly handsome West Point Graduate and officer in the US Army.  She is the mother of two breathtakingly gorgeous little girls and the four of them travel the world together. She’s lived in Arizona, Kentucky, Utah, Idaho, Massachusetts, and Hawaii.