Monday, April 22, 2013

Assured Destruction Blog Tour


Assured Destruction Book Summary:
Sixteen-year-old Jan Rose knows that nothing is ever truly deleted. At
least, not from the hard drives she scours to create the online
identities she calls the Shadownet.

Hobby? Art form? Sad, pathetic plea to garner friendship, even
virtually? Sure, Jan is guilty on all counts. Maybe she’s even
addicted to it. It’s an exploration. Everyone has something to hide.
The Shadownet’s hard drives are Jan’s secrets. They're stolen from her
family’s computer recycling business Assured Destruction. If the
police found out, Jan’s family would lose their livelihood.

When the real people behind Shadownet’s hard drives endure vicious
cyber attacks, Jan realizes she is responsible. She doesn’t know who
is targeting these people or why but as her life collapses Jan must
use all her tech savvy to bring the perpetrators to justice before she
becomes the next victim.




Michael F. Stewart's Bio:
After crewing ships in the Antarctic and the Baltic Sea and some fun
in venture capital, Michael anchored himself (happily) to a marriage
and a boatload of kids. Now he injects his adventurous spirit into his
writing with brief respites for research into the jungles of Sumatra
and Guatemala, the ruins of Egypt and Tik’al, paddling the Zambezi and
diving whatever cave or ocean reef will have him. He is a member of
the International Thriller Writers and SF Canada, and the author of
the Assured Destruction series, 24 Bones, The Sand Dragon, Hurakan,
Ruination and several award winning graphic novels for young adults.

Formats: paperback & ebook
Release: March 22, 2013

Amazon paperback ($8.99)
http://www.amazon.com/dp/098126994X?tag=tributebooks-20

Kindle ($2.99)
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BXRUYO6?tag=tributebooks-20

and

Goodreads
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17376220-assured-destruction






Michael F. Stewart's Web Site:

http://www.michaelfstewart.com/

Michael F. Stewart's Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/AssuredDestructionSeries

Michael F. Stewart's Twitter:
https://twitter.com/MichaelFstewart

Michael F. Stewart's Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2969126.Michael_F_Stewart

Tribute Books Blog Tours Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tribute-Books-Blog-Tours/242431245775186

Assured Destruction's blog tour site:
http://assureddestruction.blogspot.com/

Monday, April 15, 2013

Unraveled Virtual Book Tour



Sixteen year old math whiz, Autumn, spends her days reading about serial killers and dreaming of becoming an FBI Profiler. She never dreams her first case will be so personal. Her world is shattered when she comes home from school and discovers her murdered sister’s body on the living room floor. When the initial evidence points to a burglary gone wrong, Autumn challenges the police’s theory because of the personal nature of the crime. Thinking that finding the killer will bring her family back together, she conducts her own investigation using her affinity for math and forensics, but her plan backfires and her obsession with the case further splinters her family.  When her investigation reveals the killer is someone she knows, Autumn offers herself up as bait and sets a dangerous trap to unmask his true nature and to obtain a confession for her sister’s murder.





Author Bio:
Susan grew up in South Texas, about ten miles from the U.S.-Mexican border. As a child she spent the summers in Mexico with her grandparents and extended family. During these vacations, she frequently created mysteries for her siblings and cousins to solve. These mysteries were her first stories. Nancy Drew soon became her childhood hero and inspiration to write mysteries for young adults.
Her greatest joy is her daughter who is quite the storyteller and likes to come up with the characters’ names for mom’s stories.
When she’s not writing or studying, you can find her looking after her personal mini-zoo which consists of two fish, one thief of a dog, and some hermit crabs.
Susan loves estates sales, traveling, spending time with her family, and discovering new books at the Columbus Metropolitan library.
Susan graduated from the University of Texas, is currently pursuing an MFA from Seton Hill University, and dreams of one day owning a touch screen murder board like the one on her favorite TV show, Castle.



Excerpt:
“Autumn, yesterday you had told us that when you arrived home the front door was open. Is that correct?”
I leaned in toward the voice recorder on the table and said, “Yes.”
“Are you positive about that? We interviewed some of the neighbors, and none of them saw an open front door at your house?” No doubt Mrs. Jimenez had told them that. Now that she was retired, she had nothing better to do than watch her neighbors. I wondered if she had mentioned seeing anything to Detective Kasanoff. Maybe she saw something unusual that day, a stranger in the neighborhood, a suspicious car, anything.
“The door looked closed, but when I touched my key to the lock, it opened.”
“Do you know who was the last person to leave the house that day?” I looked over at my parents. Mami had her head buried in her hands. She shouldn’t be here, hearing about all of this. Papi had his arm around her and gave me an encouraging smile.
“I was.”
“What time did you leave that morning?”
“About 8:00 a.m.”
“Did you leave through the front door?” I didn’t like where this was going.
“Yes, and I locked it behind me,” I offered before he had a chance to ask the question.
“How can you be sure? Look, I know how it is. It’s easy to get on autopilot in the morning. You do the same thing every morning, you get into a routine.”
I looked him straight in the eye and said, “I don’t forget things, Detective. I know I locked the door that morning.” He studied me for a moment and flipped through his papers.
“That’s right. Here it is. You’re some kind of math genius. You almost made the US Math Olympiad Team last year.” I wanted to reach across the table and strangle him. Someone had butchered my sister in my own living room, and he was reading up on how I’d choked on a freaking geometry question during last year’s Math Olympiad final round and failed to make the team?
“I’m gifted, Detective. I’m not smart enough to be a genius.” He broke into a smile. The first I’d ever seen from him.
“Is there really a difference?”
“Yes, about five IQ points.” He wrote something down.
“Let’s move on. You said you had come home because you’d left your math questions on the kitchen table that morning. Is that correct?” “Yes.”
He lifted the folder up and produced some papers that were protected in a plastic bag. He placed them in front of me. “Are these the questions you were referring to?”
I looked at my parents, and both of them had their eyes glued to the plastic bag in front of me.
Without touching the bag, I looked at the front page and saw the first question. It was the Bernoulli equation question that Celeste had asked me that morning over breakfast.
“Yes, those are the ones.”
“Care to know where we found them?” What did he mean? I’d left them on the kitchen table when I went to brush my teeth after breakfast.
“On the kitchen table?” I asked, trying not to sound sarcastic.
“No. In your backpack. The backpack we found at the scene yesterday.” He looked over at my parents this time. My eyes grew wide, and my mouth fell open.
“Mr. or Mrs. Covarrubias, did either of you put these math papers back into Autumn’s backpack after breakfast?” Papi left for the bakery every morning at 5:30 a.m. so he wasn’t even home. Mami had left right after Celeste and I had eaten because she had a dentist appointment. Maybe Mami’d seen the papers and stuck them in my backpack. Celeste had left about ten minutes before me. Her boyfriend Voss had swung by to pick her up. He did that every day.
“Mami, did you put the papers in my backpack?” Her eyes were swollen, and I swear she was two seconds away from passing out. Her gaze wandered around the room until it fell on me. She shook her head. My heart sank.
“Then it had to be Celeste. She must have put them in there.”
“Her fingerprints weren’t found on the papers.” How was that possible? The oils from her hands would have been transferred onto the paper if she’d stuck them in my backpack. It couldn’t have been her then. That left no one, and I had no answer. That wasn’t good.
“Autumn, look, I’m going to be honest with you. There are some things that just don’t add up here. We have witnesses that say you and your sister were arguing at school that morning and that she looked very upset. Care to explain what that was all about?”
I could feel the cell doors closing in around me. This was a witch hunt, and I was about to be burned at the stake.
My parents were staring at me, begging me with their eyes to explain what was going on. The question mark stabbed my heart. They knew that Celeste and I hardly ever fought. The last time had to have been when I’d accidentally given her a black eye when I was five and was trying to learn to hit a baseball.
I looked at the detective and said the only thing I knew to say. “Detective Kasanoff, I want a lawyer.”

Friday, April 12, 2013

The Coven Virtual Book Tour



The Coven: Fire and Ice       
The Coven, Book 1
Verdell Walker

Genre: YA Paranormal Romance

ISBN: Print – 1481981080
Ebook - 9781301450695

Number of pages: 454
Word Count: 114,679

Cover Artist: Gabriela Miyares



Book Description:

After her clique's bullying causes a classmate's suicide, Kat Grey trades the vicious world of the California "in crowd" for the chance to become a better person in Massachusetts. But when she steps in to protect a classmate from being bullied, Kat sparks a war with Hannah, Milton Academy's resident Queen Bee.

Kat's courage and compassion attract the attention of Blaze Ward, Hannah's ex-boyfriend. As they fall in love, Kat discovers that Blaze is more than the boy next door. He's a warlock. He is also the leader of an in-crowd like no other - the Brotherhood, five young warlocks charged with defending witches and humanity from a demonic adversary named Seth.

Kat challenges Blaze to become a better man and leader while he helps her find redemption as she makes it her mission to stop bullying at Milton. But when Hannah teams up with Seth to destroy her, Kat becomes a hostage in the age-old war between the Brotherhood and their greatest enemy. Saving Kat will require more than Blaze's strength and skill; it will mean breaking one of his kind's most sacred laws. Blaze will have to make a choice: his honor or Kat's life.

Excerpt from "The Coven: Fire and Ice"


The body had left a spider web of cracks in Kat’s windshield. Still wrapped in her seatbelt, Kat clutched the sides of her seat, stricken with shock and fear.  A rational voice in the back of her head screamed at her to move, someone was injured, maybe even dead. Trembling, she forced herself to get out of the car. On wobbly legs she rounded the front of the Prius and scanned the area for the body. Spotting a large, still lump lying in the grass, Kat sprinted over to the person’s side. Kneeling, Kat placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She couldn’t detect any signs of blood; there was also no blood on her windshield. Whoever he was, he smelled awful. Maybe it was a homeless person.
“Hello? Can you hear me?”
The man moved faster than the blink of an eye. One minute he was lying immobile on the ground, the next he had his hand clamped on her mouth and an arm around her throat. A shot of cold fear zoomed down Kat’s spine as she felt herself being hoisted up. She kicked and thrashed in a desperate attempt to get away, but the arm on her throat was like steel. Her cries were muffled by the foul-smelling hand, and the stench of the grave enveloped her. Kat thought she was going to faint until adrenaline and her fighting spirit came to her rescue. She bit down on the stony fingers and used all her weight when she stamped her foot on her attacker’s instep. The taste erupting in her mouth was worse than the smell and made her want to vomit, but she concentrated on wrenching herself free. The thing made no sound but jerked its hand back from her sharp teeth. Kat used the opportunity to let out an ear piercing shriek. Before it could silence her again, she tipped them both forward and sent them sprawling toward the ground in a heap. Kat aimed another kick at its stomach and managed to escape. It reached out and grabbed her foot but only pulled off her sneaker.
Kat shot off into the night, racing back to her car. She paid no attention to the gravel jabbing her shoeless foot as she ran. As she ran she continued to scream, hoping someone, anyone, would hear her. Her thighs burned as they ate up the distance, and she could hear her attacker gaining on her from behind. Fear and a desire to live propelled her onward despite the pain in her foot and throat, and tears ran down her cheeks from the biting wind. Soon the Prius was in sight, but her attacker had almost closed the gap between them. She could feel those disgusting fingers reaching out and trying to grab her. Kat pressed on, even though every muscle in her body screamed to stop.
Suddenly, a thick mist rolled in and enveloped the area, blanketing everything. Because of it, Kat couldn’t see the exposed root sticking up in her path. She tripped over it and pitched forward. As she fell, the attacker’s hand grasped her hair, yanking it violently. Kat thought her neck was going to break. She hoped it would, and that it would kill her before this person, this thing could. She thought of the mother she was just getting to know again, and felt sick. Then something hot streaked past her face, and the ground beneath her shook.
“Kill the mist, Q! I need to see!”
Kat’s heart lifted – was someone coming to help her? She didn’t want to believe, but then she heard another gruff, masculine voice.
“It’s not alone! Hold back till I clear this place!”
The mist receded, like water draining from a bathtub. Kat was on the ground, and through her watery vision she could see two pairs of boots racing toward her. Her attacker’s fist was still wound tightly in her hair and she could hardly breathe for the stench. She tilted her face upward and relief fled when she saw her saviors’ eyes cast an unearthly light in the darkness, the color of the glowing embers of a fire.
“Oh my God,” Kat breathed.
Another shot – of lightning?! – whizzed past her. The tension on her hair slackened. She heard a dull thud behind her as the blast of whatever-it-was nailed her attacker in the chest and sent him flying backwards. Her rescuers ran past her in a blur. One of them was a tall blond boy, the other African American with close-cropped black hair. Her attacker tried to crawl away from them but they surrounded him. The black boy brought his boot down on his ankle, pinning him to the ground. The blond kicked him savagely in the ribs, his body flipping over onto his back. He brought a knee down onto the attacker’s scorched chest and placed his hands on either side of its head. The blond boy’s hands glowed brightly as he twisted the attacker’s neck 180 degrees. A blinding white light filled the night, and the attacker’s body was gone.
If Kat thought she was scared before, she was absolutely terrified now. She pushed herself off the ground and tried to run away, but a sharp pain in her ankle brought her back down. She must have sprained her ankle when she tripped. Kat gritted her teeth against the pain and rose again. She would crawl the last few feet to her Prius if need be, but come hell or high water she was getting out of there.
“Hey, stop!”
Kat didn’t look back as she half ran, half hopped away. She was almost to the Prius. Impossibly, the blond boy was right next to her in an instant, blocking her path.
“Stop,” he commanded in a voice accustomed to being obeyed.
“Go to hell,” Kat spat back as she moved around him. She tried to evade the long, powerful arms that reached out for her, but she was too slow. Or rather he was unbelievably fast. On instinct, Kat fired her elbow into his ribs. The blond let out a grunt and she slipped halfway out of his grasp. He tried to regain his hold, but Kat reared back and scraped her nails across his cheek. This made him angry, but she didn’t care. She was pissed. If he took her, it wouldn’t be without a fight.
“Get away from me!” she screamed. Despite her best efforts, he caught her again. His arms were like stone pinions around her.
“Relax,” he said into her ear in a deep, rich bass. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You expect me to believe that! You just broke someone’s neck!”
“You’re welcome, miss. It was a pleasure saving your life.”
Without thinking, Kat spat in his face.
A low whistle sounded behind him. It was the other boy.
“A girl who is immune to Blaze Ward’s charms – I do believe this is a first.”
The one called Blaze lifted his right hand to wipe her spit away, while still keeping her imprisoned in his left arm. She struggled against his hard body uselessly.
“Do me a favor and hold onto her while I call Etienne.”
Oh no, there are more of them, Kat thought as she was passed like a ragdoll between the two of them. The other boy held her just as tightly. Her ankle throbbed. She thought about screaming again, but figured it was impractical as there was no one else around.
Her captor leaned down to her ear and spoke to her in a calm voice. “Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you. Just keep still and quiet. And please keep your saliva to yourself.”
Blaze stepped away from them and closed his eyes. He made no sound or movement, but he seemed to be reaching out to something or someone. Moments later, another huge blond appeared with eyes as green as hers. Out of thin air.
“Oh, good Lord,” Kat said aloud.
The new blond turned to look at her. “Crap – a norm. What’s she doing here?”
“Dark One had her,” Blaze replied. “We rescued her.”
“And she thanked Blaze with a nice, big loogie,” Kat’s captor said gleefully.
Mirth twinkled in the new blond’s eyes. “Did she see anything?”
“Too much. Which is why I called you,” Blaze said.
“You need me to wipe her?”
“Please.”
Kat stiffened with terror. Her captor felt the change, and rubbed her arm soothingly. “Calm down – he’s not talking about killing you.”
The new blond moved toward her. “No, baby. I promise this won’t hurt, and you won’t remember any of this.”
“Get away from me,” Kat said in a hard, angry voice. He said nothing, bringing his face closer to hers. Kat could make out the individual hairs of his prickly stubble. His green eyes flashed gold.
Something pricked at Kat’s consciousness. She closed her eyes and shook her head. The pricking continued, and some force deep within her mind resisted. Kat squeezed her eyes and opened them again. The pricking stopped, and she fixed him with a glare.
The blond frowned. “This one’s mind is strong. Most norms would be drooling wrecks by now.”
“Try harder,” the first blond said.
Suddenly, a feeling of tremendous calm washed over Kat. Her muscles relaxed, and the pain in her ankle drifted away. Those golden eyes mesmerized her, held her in their sway. If her captor hadn’t been holding her, she was sure she would have fallen to the ground. Her mind tried to fight back, but this time it was impossible.
“You’re calm,” he whispered. “You’re safe, and warm.”
“Safe and warm,” Kat repeated drowsily, in spite of herself.
“Give her to me,” the first blond said. His voice sounded far away and she nearly collapsed into his arms. He wrapped her arms around his neck. Reaching down, he slipped an arm behind her knees and lifted her off the ground. Cradling her to his chest, he turned to the others.
“Etienne, do something about her car. Q, conjure up another shoe for her, will you?”
If she had been alert, she would have thought their conversation was insane. But now all she could think of was sleep.
The one called Q stepped forward with her white and pink Puma sneaker. Kat wondered idly where he had found it.
“I wonder who she is, and where she lives?” Blaze asked Q.
“Never seen her before. Probe her mind for it,” Q suggested.
“No need,” Etienne shouted. “Got her license here. Katherine Grey, lives at 223 Shady Oak Lane.”
“Pretty sure she’s breaking curfew now,” Q said. “We should get her home before she’s grounded for life.”
A thought occurred to Kat. “Text Mom,” she murmured.
Blaze shushed her. “Etienne, is there a phone over there?”
“Yup. Texting her mom now. Man, there are like 10 messages from Momma Bear on this thing.”
“Q, go back to the others and make sure there are no more Dark Ones roaming around. Etienne, drive her car back to her house. I’m going to run ahead with her.”
Kat looked up at the young man holding her in his arms. His handsome face was angular and sculpted, with high cheekbones and a strong, masculine jaw. He must have felt her looking at him, because he peered down at her. His narrowed eyes were a translucent, shimmering blue. She breathed deeply, inhaling his scent. He smelled of sweat, dark spice, and pine. In spite of herself, she felt completely safe and taken care of. He stared at her for another second, and his eyes were inscrutable. The next thing Kat knew they were moving, the night rushing past them at incredible speed.
 
Copyright 2013 Verdell Walker. All rights reserved.


This is an interview with Katherine “Kat” Grey, the heroine of my novel The Coven: Fire and Ice and human love of Maximilian “Blaze” Ward. Deeply affected by the suicide of a girl she once bullied, Kat turns her life around and vows to become a better person. She takes a stand against bullying and is not afraid to fight for what she believes in.  
Enjoy!

What is your family like?
My parents are Claire McDonough and Nicholas Grey. They divorced when I was younger. I’m super lucky because they still get along really well. A lot of my old friends in Cali have divorced parents that hate each other. I’m glad mine aren’t like that.
My mom is wise, warm, funny, and a terrible cook. After she and Dad divorced, she moved to Massachusetts and pursued her dream of becoming an artist. She’s pretty successful and her paintings are really amazing. It was a little awkward at first when I moved in with her, but now we‘re super close. I’m glad she’s in my life now – I can talk to her about anything.
I miss my dad Nick like crazy since I moved to Massachusetts. To a lot of people, he can be downright intimidating – big time lawyer, Harvard grad, dyed-in-the-wool Republican. It’s funny to me because I know him as this goofy guy who loves practical jokes and fishing. He can be a little overprotective at times, but I guess that’s what dads do.
What is the thing you are most proud of?
The GED tutoring program I started at Mercy House. Mercy House is a home for runaways, mostly abused teenage girls who got mixed up in drugs and prostitution. My friend Bronwyn and Q [a member of the Brotherhood] tutors there too, as well as some other kids from Milton Academy. The first group of girls I worked with all just earned their GEDs last week – that was an incredible feeling.
If you had a day to do anything you wanted, what would you do?
Riding horses with Blaze at his family’s lake house. It’s the most peaceful place in the world. I always ride Ariel, a gray Arabian.  Blaze has a black stallion named Baltazar. He’s had Baltazar since he was a foal and they’ve literally grown up together – it’s really sweet.
If you could apologize to someone in your past, who would it be?
Too many to count. I hurt a lot of people back in California by being a bully. I’ve been able to get in touch with some of them on Facebook and stuff, but some people won’t respond to my messages. I don’t blame them; I’d probably be skeptical too if I was in their shoes.


What is your most prized possession? 
My talisman* that Blaze gave me. It’s a gold necklace with rubies. It’s really extravagant so I mostly just wear the main ruby on a plain gold chain. I never take it off, because it makes me feel close to Blaze. That’s because the ruby carries his essence – he’s never far away from me when I have it on.
What do you find really grates on your nerves?

Stuck up, pretentious people who think that they are better than everyone else. Don’t get me started.
What is your greatest fear?

I’ve got two. The first is Blaze getting hurt – or worse – fighting in the Brotherhood. It’s something I have to deal with on a daily basis and I try really hard not to think about it too much. He’s a great fighter, but I still obviously get worried. My second greatest fear is not living a meaningful life. When I say “meaningful”, I mean not making a positive impact on the world. I think it would be terrible to die without having made at least one person’s life better.
*In the world of The Coven, a talisman is a piece of jewelry, featuring a jewel that contains the warlock’s essence, that a warlock often gives to the woman he loves, be she human or witch. When the woman wears the talisman, the warlock can sense her emotions, be alerted if she is in danger, communicate with her telepathically, and envelop her in a magical defensive shield even when he is not physically present.



About the Author:

Verdell Walker is the author of THE COVEN series. Born and raised in the South, writing has been her escape from reality for many years.

Verdell is an avid sports fan and absolutely devoted to the Green Bay Packers. A gifted cook and baker, few things make her happier than making a meal for her family and friends. Except maybe writing about her favorite boys.










Sunday, March 31, 2013

Fight or Flight Blog Tour and Giveaway





Blurb:
Be smart.
Keep your head down.
And look out for number one.


These are the rules Jay has lived by for the past two years. The rules of surviving life on the streets. But when Em comes bursting into his life, in all of her disastrous glory, the rules go right out the window.

Survive.
Flee what’s been left behind 
And never look back.


Em’s plan was simple. Though, it was easier said than done. The city streets are dangerous and unforgiving to a new arrival. Especially, a seventeen year old girl who’s never known anything but life in the suburbs. Sometimes, however, what’s lurking behind those white picket fences can be more frightening than any dark alley.

Both of them made the same decision when life got overwhelming—to run from their demons. Brought together by fate or circumstance, Em and Jay find the kind of love neither of them ever expected. But when those demons come back to haunt them and their love is on the line, which instincts will they choose to follow this time . . .
Fight or Flight? 
*Warning: This story includes mature language and themes, and is intended for mature audiences.



Book Links:
Amazon- http://www.amazon.com/Fight-or-Flight-ebook/dp/B00BSIPULW/ref=sr_1_8?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1363090019&sr=1-8&keywords=jamie+canosa#reader_B00BSIPULW
Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17374245-fight-or-flight


Author Bio:

Jamie Canosa is a full time author of YA literature, which she absolutely loves. When she’s not writing or spending time with her family, she can usually be found with her nose in a book. She currently resides in Upstate NY with her husband, and their three crazy kids . . . plus the dog, the bird, and the rabbit.

Her debut novel, Dissidence, was published in 2012 along with several novellas, including the first in her Heart and Soul series, ‘Temptation’.


Author Links:
Blog- http://jamiecanosa.blogspot.com/
FB- https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJamieCanosa?ref=hl
Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6150972.Jamie_Canosa

Monday, February 18, 2013

Reckoning: The Virtual Book Tour and Interview



Reckoning
Dark Prophecy, Book 1
Molly M Hall

Genre: YA Paranormal

ISBN: 978-1479342112
ASIN: B0095JKKFC

Number of pages: 276
Word Count: 77,782

Cover Artist: Claudia McKinney -PhatPuppy Art




Book Description:

"They say the truth can set you free. I found out it can kill you."

Seventeen-year-old Kat Matheson has never revealed the dark secret that sets her apart from everyone else: She can see and hear the dead. Until now, she has been able to ignore the strange apparitions and whispering voices. But it may not be that simple anymore. Haunted by eerie visions and increasingly frightening nightmares, Kat begins to fear she may be the target of a dark and ominous force from beyond the grave. Complicating matters is the arrival of her new neighbor, a young man she instinctively distrusts but is inexplicably drawn to. Gorgeous and mysterious, he seems to hold a disturbing knowledge of her long-held secrets.

As she desperately tries to maintain control, events take an unexpected and violent turn. Discovering that nothing is what it seems and that her psychic abilities may involve far more than just communing with the dead, Kat may be forced to confront her worst fears and the powerful curse that controls her destiny.


     A gentle breeze moves through the trees and gooseflesh creeps up my arms. I look around cautiously, my ears straining for even the slightest sound. Nothing. No dreaded flashes of a ghostly pink dress. No brain-numbing whispering. Just an empty expanse of green, dotted with trees, the stark silhouettes of houses rising behind.

     My phone buzzes again, the vibration rippling through the nerve endings in my hand like a low-voltage jolt of electricity. I feel a sudden desire to fling it as far away from me as I can.

     Reluctantly, I look down and click on the message.

     RUN

     Turning around, I see Rick, smiling back at me, waiting patiently. A scream of anguish and frustration begins to build deep inside of me and I hear a noise to my right, like the whooshing of wings. Jerking my head to the side, my eyes widen in shock, and I duck, narrowly missing a massive black bird as it sweeps past me, angling upward. I think I hear Rick say something, but his words are drowned out by the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. I glance up, looking for the bird and see a large, dark shape sweeping past the top of the trees. I have no idea how any of it is connected – the girl, the texts, the bird – but instinctively I know they are. And it isn’t good.

     I look at Rick again, the wonder and magic of this evening still singing through my veins, and my shock turns to anger. Hot, fiery, rebellious anger. This will not happen. Not tonight.

     Clenching my jaw, I glare up at the sky. LEAVE ME ALONE, I scream in my head. Whatever issues this dead girl has, it has nothing to do with me.

      Rick begins walking toward me. “Everything OK, Kat?”

     I swallow, gathering my emotions back into a tight bundle. “Fine.” I force a smile onto my face, jogging back to him. “Just Rachel sending me another message.”

     I step into the pool of light beneath the streetlamp, anxious to leave the darkness behind. Suddenly, the light flickers, an odd sizzling sound emanating from the globes. I stop and stare, watching as several sparks shoot out the sides. The bird, the largest crow I have ever seen, swoops down from the trees, one shining, jet black eye looking directly at me. Sound disappears and time seems to fold in on itself, slowing to half-speed. The same weightless feeling I’d experienced at school creeps over me, and I tense, fighting off the panic.

     I stare at the bird, watching it descend lower and lower. It’s wings beat once, moving slowly down and back up again. Sparks continue to jet from the streetlamp, each brightly pointed flash of light spewing out in a torpid, glowing trail, before dropping slowly and silently to the ground. The bird is nearly on top of me. It sweeps past, close enough that I can feel the rush of air beneath its wings, gently lifting my hair. Then it arcs upward, higher and higher, before turning and diving back toward me again, it’s beak open in a silent cry.

     I stand and stare, frozen in place, numb with shock and disbelief. My phone vibrates dully in my palm, and I slowly lower my head. As though acting strictly through muscle memory, my thumb pushes the message button.

     NOW

     I look back up at the bird. Then at the streetlamp. And suddenly, I understand. The obscure text messages melding into clear and precise meaning. But my legs won’t move.

     I gasp, inhaling sharply as I struggle to break free of the torpor that has possessed me, and the world abruptly charges back into normal motion, sound and movement taking on a vivid clarity. The bird rushes toward me, it’s head cocked at an odd angle. The sparking and sizzling of the streetlamp grows louder, the globes glowing and flashing like some kind of deranged sparkler on the fourth of July. I take one slow step backward just as the globes explode with a loud bang, hundreds of tiny pieces of glass slicing through the air. I yelp and duck, lunging to the side.

An interview with the author:

1. What first got you into writing for a YA audience?

    I really enjoy the YA genre, and I think the potential for stories in this genre are limitless. When I first had the idea for Reckoning, I knew it had to fall into the YA category in order for it to play out the way it needed to. Kat Matheson, the main character in the story, needed a certain amount of innocence and naiveté that I wouldn't have been able to give her if she were older. For me, part of the appeal of YA is that characters (usually) aren't so jaded and cynical. They're on a journey of discovery and that's what make it so exciting.

2. How do you keep your story on track? Are you a panster or a plotter?

    I'm probably a little of both. I do have a general outline for each book and I always know how I want it to end. But ideas come to me as I write, and frequently, scenes will take on a life of their own, sometimes shifting the direction I thought the story would take. I think the most important thing is to keep the main concept of the story in mind and then drive it to its conclusion. The unexpected sidetracks along the way are what keep it exciting.

3. Cheeseburger or sushi?

    I'm going to have to say neither. I don't eat red meat and raw fish kind of grosses me out. But if it was cooked, I'd be all over it. I love Asian cuisine!

4. What was your favorite book as a teen and why?

    I don't think I had a particular favorite. I've always been an avid reader and have always read a variety of genres. When I was a teenager, I read a lot of biographies, British history (I'm an extreme Anglophile), and British mysteries. Agatha Christie will always be the queen. I also loved those epic, British sagas by writers like Susan Howatch, Anya Seton and Thomas Tryon. I'd come home from the library with stacks of them and lose myself for hours within their pages.

5. What is your favorite ice cream flavor?

    Get ready to gasp in shock...I don't really like ice cream. Crazy, isn't it??

6. What three things must you have on your pizza?

    Cheese, onion and bell peppers.

7. Flip open your book to any page and tell us what is happening.

    Kat is walking by her neighbor's house and hears a crashing noise. Concerned, she makes her way inside and finds him prostrate and bleeding on the basement floor. It's obvious he's suffered some kind of physical attack. But from whom? There's no one else in the house and she didn't see anyone leave. Was it a supernatural attack or is something else going on?

8. What is your favorite series on television?

    The Vampire Diaries!!!!! Love, love, love it.

9. What was the hardest scene you ever wrote and why?

    The hardest scene I ever wrote is the ending to the Dark Prophecy series. The ending?? How am I even there yet? It's three books away! Well, like I said before, I always know how it will end. And, yes, I've already written the final scenes. It was hard for a variety of reasons. Unfortunately, I can't tell you why or that will give it all away!

10. What is next on the writerly horizon?

     Next is Book 2 in the series. Titled Relentless, I am nearing completion on the final chapters and it should be available in the spring. I'm also releasing the first in a new historical mystery series set in 1911 London. That should be available in the spring as well.





About the Author:
Molly M Hall is the author of Reckoning, the first novel in the Dark Prophecy series. She has spent most of her life in Colorado and currently lives just outside of Denver. She pursued a degree in English Literature at Columbia College, and worked in the corporate world for several years before turning to writing full time.

When not reading or writing, she can be found shopping for awesome boots, listening to music, exercising, working on her very inadequate French, playing piano, or looking for inspiring landscapes to photograph. More at: mollymhall.com



Twitter - @mollymhallbooks


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