Posts Tagged ‘adventure’

Beyond Beauport
by James Masciarelli
Genre: Adventure
Shannon Clarke raised a family and worked waterfront jobs in America’s
oldest seaport.
Her childhood dream to become a sea captain is revived when her long-lost
seafaring uncle Patrick visits with a salty tale of their maritime
family ancestry of pirates and privateers. He shares recovered family
letters and artifacts from the Golden Age of Piracy. They take to the
sea in Patrick’s brigantine to follow the siren song of their
ancestors in quest of destiny, truth and treasure. The voyage is
fraught with raw forces of nature, past traumas and present day sea
robbers, as their talents and beliefs of family, identity and purpose
are shaken to the core.

James Masciarelli is a writer, entrepreneur, and storyteller with deep
experience of the human condition from his work with individuals,
families, and organizations in crisis, growth and change. Writing and
use of story enabled him to move ideas through organizations in his
social work, human resource, and business career. His creative
fiction focuses on stories of change and transformation by the sea.
He majored in psychology and classical literature at College of the
Holy Cross, with advanced graduate study in clinical psychology, and
holds an MBA from Babson College. He resides in Naples, Florida and
his homeport, Gloucester, Massachusetts with his creative wife and
twin beagles.
Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!
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Myths and Magic
An Epic Fantasy and
Speculative Fiction Boxed Set
by K.N. Lee
Bec McMaster
Calinda B
Jayne Fury
Lori Titus
Jessica Cage
Jeffrey Bardwell
LC Ireland
Kara Jaynes
Jessica West
Alex H. Singh
Alledria Hurt
Caroline A. Gill
Mary Bernsen
CI Black
Terri Bruce
16 Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels by 16 New York Times, USA Today,
and Award-winning and Break Out Authors!
There is adventure out there … if you’re brave enough to risk
it.
Explore worlds of darkness, danger, and magic in sixteen exclusive fantasy
and science fiction novels, available for a limited time. There are
tough choices to be made and dastardly villains to outwit in this
breath-taking collection that will have you at the edge of your
seat.
Plucky heroes and devastating anti-heroes face off against demons, spirits,
shifters, witches, and more in this limited-edition arrangement that
features a satisfying combination of epic fantasy, science fiction,
romance, urban fantasy, sword and sorcery, and more!
This killer deal won’t last forever, so grab your copy today!
K.N. Lee is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She is the
author of the Dragon-Born Saga, Eura Chronicles, Wonderland
University, and the Chronicles of Koa series. When she is not writing
twisted urban fantasy, epic tales of dragons, pirates, and mermaids,
and dark poetry, she does a great deal of traveling and spending time
with her family. Wannabe rockstar, foreign language enthusiast, and
anime geek, K.N. Lee also enjoys gaming and sketching. She is a
winner of the Elevate Lifestyle Top 30 Under 30 “Future Leaders
of Charlotte” award for her success as a writer, business owner,
and for community service.
She is signed with Captive Quill Press and Patchwork Press and
represented by Hershman Rights Management.
K.N. Lee loves hearing from fans and readers. Connect with her!
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About the Book

Title: The Peacock Door

Author: Wanda Kay Knight

Genre: Middle Grade Fantasy

In a magical tale of adventure, eight cousins sneak through forbidden treehouse doors, only to find themselves separated from each other and lost in strange worlds. In their quests to return home, they must unravel mysteries, escape snares and villains, find one another, and search for the elusive Oracle. The Peacock Door is a rich story of camaraderie, loyalty, love, and determination with a bit whimsy sprinkled throughout.

 

Author Bio

Wanda Kay Knight lives in the Pacific Northwest, teaches literature, strives really hard to keep up with her adventurous/competitive family, makes things out of yarn (mainly unique hats), enjoys collecting pretty rocks, and writes a lot.

Word from the Author:

I have to admit that I am not an organized person—not at all.  I keep my house clean and I like things tidy, but my car is a mess and I tend to get caught up in my everything else instead of doing what I need to do. Then, I become a furious rush of activity and make everything appear like it was clean and sparkling all along.

Now, the truth is that I feel really good when all my tasks and goals are finished.  I love it when my house is clean. I love it when I have finished enough exercise to keep myself from feeling guilty. I absolutely love it when I have finally organized that new knitting project and the yarn and the needles are sitting beside the couch begging me to continue the project every time I sit down. And once I get started, I have a hard time stopping.

Well, it’s the same with writing.  Once I get myself to sit down and write, I have a hard time putting it down.  I love it. I come away from a writing session or even a writing marathon with a sense of relief and excitement that I have accomplished a goal. And furthermore, if I could just stay awake all night and keep writing, I would do it (until the next morning when I have to start the process of getting started all over again).

For any others out there like me, I have one suggestion that seems to work. The one thing that kept me consistently writing was meeting with a group of would-be authors once a week with the specific goal that we have to read something—just a page or so—but something each week. After we read, we accept some criticism, listen to the others, and come back in one week prepared to it all over again.

Sometimes in those weeks between meetings, I would only get a couple of pages finished. Other times, the story would take over and I would write furiously and get pages and pages done. But, that once a week meeting really did force me to do something each week, and that was enough to build on until I finished. I found that I needed to be held accountable once a week—every other week did not work.

And, if you hate meetings (as I do), and avoid them at all costs; you should know that for some reason, this particular type of meeting with a few other people constructed around a defined goal was quite pleasant with just the right amount of motivation.

And so, as I begin the process of writing book two, I know that it is once again time to find a couple more would-be authors and once again meet once a week.  For me, it is bonding, creative, and motivating experience, and without it, book two just might not get written for a long, long time.

Links

Website: www.thepeacockdoor.com

Youtube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9VAx9k2_2eU

Youtube video:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVRFqy5_hko&t=30s

Email address:    wandakayknight@thepeacockdoor.com

My personal email:  wkayknight@gmail.com

 

 

 

The giveaway is for an eBook copy of the book:

CLICK HERE for the Rafflecopter giveaway

Book Excerpts

Grizzles and Lola:

He hobbled and wobbled when he walked as though sharp tacks protruded from the floor; his shoulders were hunched, and his head bent forward; he was ancient, no doubt about it—he was an ancient, old man. Giant folds and wrinkles covered his face; his white hair fell in large loopy whorls about his head, and they might have redeemed the face if it were not for the huge bulbous nose and the tiny squinty eyes. But the part they noticed the most was the fingers; gnarled, wrinkled fingers with long, yellowed talons for fingernails.

He twisted around and snarled at them; his raspy voice interrupted by his own heavy, noisy breathing, “Can’t you see that I am busy? I don’t like people, and I especially don’t like children. I ate the last child that came here.” He picked his tooth with a dirty fingernail. “What do you want?”

Icy Stone Steps:

A full moon had risen in the cobalt sky casting a bluish glow over the icy, snow-swept mountainside, illuminating the entire hamlet. Icicles dangled from the steep, high pitched roofs of cottages nestling here and there, jumbled together at odd angles wherever the mountainside allowed. Jagged, ice covered stone steps, cut into the mountainside, curved up and around the icicle laden cottages until finally reaching a summit—a high, flat plateau. And it was on that plateau—high overhead and overshadowing the village—that a Citadel, a snow-covered stone fortress—overwhelming with its massive and imposing presence—rose up out of the mountain as though etched and carved from the rock itself.

They stood exhaling puffs of frosty mist; entranced by the ethereal beauty of their snow laden destination and shocked by the terrible price they must pay to get there. Finally realizing the price for warmth and comfort for the night so they would have an audience with the Oracle tomorrow was a midnight climb up jagged icy stone steps tonight. It was foreboding and frigid; it was ethereal and sublime.

“We can do this,” Eleanor whispered. She slipped over and laid one arm on Ivan’s shoulder and the other on Tilly’s. Addison silently reached down grabbing Brody’s hand—and he let her do it. Claire moved over to stand beside Levi who had taken Esmé back into his own arms. He smiled a grim smile, and then he turned, planting his foot on the first jagged, icy stone step as each of the cousins formed a silent line behind him, breathing in the cold, frosty air, and preparing to follow.

The Citadel:

Nothing, nothing at all, not the ancient tales of lore, nor the fables of old could have prepared the cousins for the imposing power or the exquisite beauty of the Citadel. It rose up out of the snow like an elaborate ice sculpture, with belfries and pinnacled towers climbing into the clouds and reaching higher than the peaks themselves.

There were arches and turrets and cupolas, and parapets and round keeps with lanterns flickering in spade shaped windows, and all of it as pristine and intricate as though carved from ice and decorated with snow.

The castle was hewn from the mountain itself, forged from the stone so that the posterior of the castle was fused into the rock face of the mountain. A high, thick stone wall with ramparts and battlements like the strongholds of old, curved around the castle, surrounding it like a giant horseshoe with the massive gatehouse setting the center and the two prongs fusing back into the mountain.

The Doors:

The others smiled, nodding innocently. Gramma laughed and turned to go out the peacock door; but, as soon as she grabbed the handle, she pivoted back facing them.

A bizarre expression clouded her face. “Whatever you do,” she said, “Whatever you do—listen to me!” She pointed her finger at each of them, and after staring directly into each set of eyes, she continued. “There are journeys and treasures beyond those doors,” she said, “There are long forgotten wisps of alchemy and lost keys and crystals and mirrors of illusions; but, you must not go out any of those doors. Her voice lowered as she leaned forward. “I gotta tell you—those keys are especially hard to find. You think it’s easy; but, nooo, it is not! Everything is fine as long as you don’t go out any doors except the peacock door, right here. This is the door to use—only this one.” She patted the door.

Her voice lowered even more—almost to a whisper. “You see, kiddies, even if you’re ready to search for the keys, it’s real hard to—um—well—to—to feel them—to experience them.” She rubbed the fingers of each hand together, rotating the thumb around the fingertips. “Yeeessss, to feel them; it’s just not the time to feel them. That’s the hard part. Do you understand?”

 

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