Posts Tagged ‘author’

The Shades of Winter   A Novel of the Averraine Cycle

 

An aging band of sea raiders set out on one last voyage of revenge, and get a whole lot more than they bargained for.

Tam Isliefsdottir wasn’t planning to end her life in a futile attempt for vengeance, but when your brothers- and sisters-in-arms need you, what can you do? Leaving her son and her granddaughter behind and sailing to the shadowy island of Alvandir, she expected to die gloriously for the sake of her country, her king, and her own reputation.

Nothing is as it seems, however, and it hasn’t been for the last twenty years. Tam and her Kyndred are in for the surprise of their lives.

Click HERE to read more or buy the book on Amazon.


The Agony and the Ecstasy of writing Your Third Novel

I must confess, I found writing my first novel (A Spell in the Country) incredibly easy.

Seriously: there was no pressure. I had a pretty simple plot, a good main character, with her own unique voice, and since I had no intention of ever publishing that book (it was the 90s and my chances, I knew, were in the negative numbers for getting a publisher) (and I was not wrong) so all I was doing was entertaining myself.

And Casting in Stone went together in about six months, because I had been telling myself that story almost since the day I typed “The End” on the first book.

But this one?

The Shades of Winter was two years of handwringing, whinging, and angst.

The first bit wasn’t so bad – I knew (I thought) who these people were and what they were doing.

And then, just past the mid-point, one of the characters threw me a plot twist that was so incredible, so interesting, so trope-twisting, that I HAD to run with it…

But for eight months, I wrote and deleted and wrote and deleted and wrote and deleted, groping to find the road back to the story I wanted to tell.

And you know what?

It isn’t over yet. There’s more to the Kyndred’s adventures, and more to all of the Averraine Cycle.

I hope you all come along for the ride.

 


About the Author

Morgan Smith has been a goatherd, a landscaper, a weaver, a bookstore owner, a travel writer, and an archaeologist, and she will drop everything to travel anywhere, on the flimsiest of pretexts. Writing is something she has been doing all her life, though, one way or another, and now she thinks she might actually have something to say.

You can discover more about Morgan Smith by visiting her website HERE, or go to Amazon HERE. Follow on social media: Facebook and Twitter.

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Act of Revenge

by Dale Brown

on Tour March 19-31, 2018

Synopsis:

Act of Revenge by Dale Brown

When terrorists attack Boston, Louis Massina races against time to save the city with a high-tech counteroffensive . . .

On Easter Sunday morning, the city of Boston is struck by a widespread and coordinated series of terrorist attacks: an explosion in the T, a suicide bomber at Back Bay Police Station, and heavily armed gunmen taking hostages at the Patriot Hotel.

For robotics innovator Louis Massina, aka the Puppet Master, this is far more personal than a savage act of political terrorism. Boston is his city—and one of his employees, Chelsea Goodman, is among the hostages facing certain death. As Chelsea fights from the inside, Massina leads his team of tech geniuses at Smart Metal to deploy every bot, drone, and cyber weapon at their disposal to defeat the fanatics and save his city and friend.

That’s step one. Step two: Find the twisted mastermind behind the attacks and make him pay.

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller
Published by: William Morrow
Publication Date: January 30th 2018
Number of Pages: 528
ISBN: 0062411322 (ISBN13: 9780062411327)
Series: Puppet Master #2

Grab Act of Revenge on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, HarperCollins, and add it to your Goodreads list!

Read an excerpt:

Flash forward

Boston, Easter Sunday High noon

Louis Massina paced back and forth in the small high-security area, worried, anxious, and angry. But most of all, impotent. Boston was under attack.

The lives of dozens, maybe hundreds, of his friends were directly threatened. One of his closest employees, a young woman with tremendous promise, was among the hostages. Maybe even dead.

And all he could do, for all his money, for all his inventions—his robots, his drones, his computers, his software—was walk back and forth, trying desperately to suppress what could not be suppressed.

Anger. Rage. The enemy of reason, yet the core of his being, at least at this moment. There were other alternatives. Prayer, for one. Prayer is impotence. Prayer is surrender.

The nuns who taught him would slap his face for thinking that. They held the exact opposite: Prayer was strength, tenfold. But while in many ways Massina was a man of faith, he had never been much given to prayer. In his mind, actions spoke more effectively than words.

Prayers were all well and good, but they worked—if they worked at all—on a realm other than human. And the action needed now was completely human. Not even the Devil himself could have concocted the evil his city faced.

Light flashed in the center of the far-right monitor.

“They’re going in,” said the operator watching the hotel where Massina’s employee had been taken hostage. The light had come from a small explosion at the side of the building. “They’re going in.”

Almost in spite of himself, Massina started to pray.

Two hours earlier

Boston, Massachusetts Easter Sunday morning

There were few better hotels in Boston than the Patriot Hotel if you wanted to soak up the city’s history: city hall was practically next door, Faneuil five minutes away. You could catch a trolley for the Old Town tour a block or two down the street. Bunker Hill was a hike, but then the British had found that out as well. The rooms were expensive—twice what they would go for at similarly appointed hotels nearby—but money had never been a major concern for Victoria Goodman, Chelsea Goodman’s favorite aunt. Victoria had gotten a job as a secretary for Microsoft very soon after it started, and when she cashed out her stock in the early 1990s, invested in real estate in and around San Francisco, most notably Palo Alto and Menlo Park—the future homes of Facebook and Google. Victoria had that kind of luck.

Despite her luck, and her money, Victoria was especially easygoing, self-assured yet casual. She met Chelsea in the hotel lobby wearing a blue-floral draped dress that showed off toned upper arms and legs that remained trim and shapely despite the fact that she had recently passed sixty.

“Just on time,” declared Victoria, folding Chelsea to her chest. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I wouldn’t mind breakfast,” answered Chelsea.

“How far did you run this morning?”

“It’s not the distance, it’s the attitude,” replied Victoria. “Only five miles. But it felt wonderful. It’s so marvelous running through the city.”

“You’ll have to try for the Marathon.”

“Those days are gone, dear,” said Victoria lightly. “I’d never qualify. But thank you for the thought. You didn’t bring your young friend?”

“We’ll meet her at the Aquarium,” Chelsea said. “She had to go to church with her dad.”

“Well, it is Easter.”

“Actually, they’re Russian Orthodox, so it’s Palm Sunday. He’s a single father, and lately he’s been trying to instill religion in her.”

Chelsea followed Victoria across the paneled lobby to the restaurant entrance, where a maître d’ greeted them with a nod. He had a fresh white rose in his lapel and the manner of someone who’d been looking forward to this encounter the entire morning. He showed the two women to a seat at the far end of the room, then asked if they would care for something to drink while they looked at the menus.

“Mimosas,” said Victoria. “And coffee.”

“Mimosas?” asked Chelsea.

“Why not? You don’t have to work today, and champagne always puts me in the mood for sightseeing.”

Chelsea was just about to ask how exactly that worked when a loud crack shook the room. The metallic snap was followed by two more, each louder than the other. The noise was unfamiliar to most of the people in the restaurant, but Chelsea had lately had a singular experience that not only made the sound familiar, but warned her subconscious that there was great danger nearby.

She leaped up from her seat, and before her aunt could respond, had grabbed her and pushed her to the floor.

“Someone is shooting!” Chelsea told Victoria as the crack of a fresh round of bullets echoed against the deep wood panels of the room. “We have to get out of here!”

***

Excerpt from Act of Revenge by Dale Brown. Copyright © 2018 by Dale Brown. Reproduced with permission from William Morrow. All rights reserved.

Author Bio:

Dale Brown

Dale Brown is the New York Times bestselling author of numerous books, from Flight of the Old Dog (1987) in 1987, to, most recently, Iron Wolf (2015). A former U.S. Air Force captain, he can often be found flying his own plane over the skies of Nevada. Jim DeFelice is the co-author of the #1 New York Times bestseller American Sniper. DeFelice is the author of Omar Bradley: General at War, the first in-depth critical biography of America’s last five-star general. He also writes a number of acclaimed military thrillers, including the Rogue Warrior series from Richard Marcinko, founder of SEAL Team 6, and the novels in the Dreamland series with Dale Brown.

Catch Up With Our Dale Brown On his Website, Goodreads Page, Twitter, & Facebook Page!

 

 

Check out this awesome Giveaway:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Dale Brown and William Morrow. There will be 3 winners of one (1) physical copy of PUPPET MASTER by Dale Brown. The giveaway begins on March 19, 2018 and runs through April 1, 2018. This giveaway is open to US Addresses only. Void where prohibited.

CLICK HERE for the Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

Shadow World Trilogy Boxed Set
by Brandy Nacole
Genre: Urban Fantasy
801 pages
I must dare to be different in a world where I’m unwelcome in order
to save the one person left in my life, my half-sister Addie.
This deluxe boxed set contains the complete Bestselling Shadow World
Trilogy (Uniquely Unwelcome, Blood Burdens, and Sacrifice: A New
Dawn).
Enjoy the thrill as power is pushed to its limit, hearts are broken, and
some pay the ultimate price as Racquel fights an ancient evil that is
determined to make the Earth bleed, and Racquel with it.
The box set includes:
Uniquely Unwelcome
The Shadow World Volume 1
Racquel is unique. The bloodlines of four of the most powerful beings in the
Shadow World are intertwined within her DNA. She has never craved
attention. She just wants to be able to live as normal life as she
can. But she’s about to find that even though she’s uniquely
unwelcome wherever she goes, her abilities also make her the best
chance the Shadow World has to stop a threat to all the Shadow races.
Once arriving home, Racquel finds that greater evils exist and that
the person she cares for most in this world, her half-sister Addie,
has been kidnapped along with other Shadow World beings. Racquel
finds herself facing horrible odds with those who would rather see
her dead than alive. As her journey continues, Racquel learns more
about herself, what she is capable of, and that not every being looks
at her as an abomination. Coy, a human captive that Racquel saves
from the Vampires, starts showing kindness toward her. Racquel tries
putting distance between her and the human boy but as they spend more
time together it becomes harder and harder for Racquel to fight the
affection she wants and needs. But will Coy’s friendship and her new
found discoveries be enough to help Racquel unravel the strangest
mystery that has ever plagued the Shadow World?
Blood Burdens
The Shadow World Trilogy Volume 2
As someone with four Shadow bloodlines, Racquel is uniquely unwelcome
even among her fellow werewolves, shape-shifters, vampires, and
witches. Growing up, she was bullied and tormented for being a
“hybrid,” a condition frowned upon by Shadow society. After
saving her sister and a number of other kidnapped Shadows from a
diabolical plot to create a Shadow army, many have found a new
respect for Racquel, but she is far from accepted in Shadow society,
and the evil is far from over. To complicate matters, Racquel now
finds herself torn between two brothers. Coy is caring and has helped
Racquel through her struggles, and Micah, who Racquel has only met
once but who is somehow, having dream conversations with him. Racquel
becomes torn between following her heart while breaking it at the
same time. In the second installment of the Shadow World series,
Racquel and her sister Addie face off with the Shadow leaders against
a threat that could bring the world to its knees. Power will be
pushed to its limit, hearts will be broken, and some will pay the
ultimate price as Racquel and her group of Shadows fight against an
ancient evil that is determined to make the earth bleed and Racquel
with it.
Sacrifice: A New Dawn
The Shadow World Trilogy Book 3
Racquel was once uniquely unwelcome, an outcast in both the human and Shadow
worlds. In desperation, the Shadows—the loose alliance of Vampires,
Werewolves, Witches, Shape Shifters and Faeries—turned to Racquel
for help against the sorceress Cerelia, who threatened all Shadows.
Now that Racquel has protected the Shadows by defeating Cerelia, it
seems like things are picking up. Racquel is ready to challenge the
Shadows’ Ruling Council on the injustice of the laws that made her
and her family outcasts among the Shadows, and which is causing
suffering among her friends. Racquel has little time to enjoy her
victory. Micah, an innocent subjected to experiments by Cerelia and
now the only other person in the world like Racquel, is summoned to
appear before the Ruling Council to be examined. The Council has
already warned that if Micah is deemed to be “unclean” and a
threat to the Shadows, he will be executed. And there are agendas
hidden in agendas, as well. A secret faction wants to challenge
Racquel, who they still see as being an unclean creature due to her
mixed-Shadow heritage. Worse still, the mysterious prophecy made by
Kaya, queen of the Fay, is about to become true, and Racquel is about
to be faced with her deepest fear: that she is still unwelcome in the
world. Betrayed trust and a new danger to the Shadow world are
waiting for Racquel, and in the end, she may have to make the
ultimate sacrifice in order to save the world and her friends from
destruction.
Gemini Brandy Nacole is a writer of urban fantasy and paranormal books
published by Ponahakeola Press. A reader from a young age, Brandy has
always loved folklore and stories of beings that go bump in the night.
Whenever she’s not reading or writing, Brandy is spending time with her
family and friends, throwing around crazy ideas, teaching, and
singing like a rock star at a concert for no one else but herself.
She loves plants, but unfortunately is a killer of anything that
requires water but can’t voice (scream) their needs.

Excerpt

 

Chapter One:

I often wonder if my great grandparents could see the torture I am enduring now, would they still have married? I would like to think not. Who would want to put their own flesh and blood through such humiliation and pain? I wouldn’t.

The ropes around my wrists cut and pinch my skin, causing blood to drip down the frayed rope and onto the ground. I try again to pull against their hold, hoping to break them so I can run, but it does no good. The pain is bearable, but not by much.

“Let’s see how she likes this.”

Irving, the vampire dick who captured me scavenging through the woods for food, unravels a whip. I want to scream, beg, and plead for them to show some mercy, but it wouldn’t do any good. These bastards are in this for the thrill and giving them what they want, to see me weak, isn’t going to happen when I know it will do me no good.

Ravyn runs her black manicured nails up Irving’s arms and across his shoulders, her eyes dancing with delight as she looks at me.

“You know I could do so much more,” she pouts in Irving’s ear.

I narrow my eyes, seeing as it’s the only thing I can do, and bite my tongue. I want to tell the witch to go to Hell, but she’d enjoy that too much. From the moment I was dragged through the gates of their little village, her blue eyes have shown with hatred and maliciousness. They hate me, and although the law keeps them from killing me, it doesn’t keep them from having a little fun. What they consider fun anyway.

“You had your fun earlier,” Irving hisses. “Now it’s my turn.”

Oh yes, the air being shoved against my chest until I couldn’t breathe had been a blast. Let’s do it again.

Irving steps forward, his grip tight on the black leather whip, and his black eyes trained on me. The crowd cheers him on as he unravels the whip from his grip and lets it fall to his side, preparing it for use. I do my best to mask my fear, it will spur them on if I don’t, but I know it’s there. I can’t help it.

Irving brings the whip up and I close my eyes, bracing for the impact. The sound of whip cracks, and I jerk, waiting for the sting. But instead of the sting from his leather whip, I feel the bite of the leather seat in front of me as I dig my fingers out from it. God, I hate reliving those horrid memories. First time around was enough.

Taking a deep breath and setting back against my seat, I cringe at the torn leather in front of me and hope I can get off the bus before anyone notices. At least I didn’t scream this time.

I glance out the window to see where we are and am surprised to see we’ve already arrived in Cloverville, Va. My hometown. As it turns out, you can always return home, true, but it doesn’t mean you will be welcomed. Sorry gramps and grams, there was no such luck like you had hoped here in Cloverville.

The bus comes to a staggering, brake squealing stop right in downtown. No one makes a move to get off the bus and I begin to wonder why the driver stopped, when he rises from his seat and starts my way. His uniform is snug, the buttons almost popping over his pudgy belly. Sweat beads on his balding head and I can hear his heart racing faster with every step he takes toward me.

I know he is coming to talk to me. I’m the only one sitting near the back. Funny that I was the last one on the bus, but when I first sat down I had neighboring passengers all around me. Now, they all are sitting toward the front. It’s no real surprise. The witches who had been sitting in the seat next to me had no problem showing their disgust once I took my seat. They were quick to get up and move to the front. It was the humans that slowly started easing toward the front during the long drive from Nashville.

When the driver is a few feet from me, he stops and raises his hands as if I’m a hostile passenger. “Excuse me ma’am, I believe this is your stop.”

Glancing out the window again and seeing the hustle and bustle of civilians and Shadows going about their day, I look back to the driver and shake my head. “I’m getting off at Red Tree Street.”

He wipes the sweat from his forehead. “I’m sorry Miss, but this is the only stop in town. We had to cut back on stops due to economic reasons. There is no stop near Red Tree anymore.” His voice shakes from his nervousness, a reaction Shadows often get from humans – es

ecially me. It’s as if their sixth sense is kicking in just a bit to let them know something isn’t right. It’s not that our appearances are different. We each look human, our supernatural abilities well maintained and hidden.

What gives me away, are my eyes. Most Shadows have a natural shade of eye color, which helps them blend in with the humans. Not me. Mine are pearly silver, outlined by darker silver, with dark purple pupils that sets the silver off. My long black hair gives it that final pop that screams she isn’t normal.

Mumbling my thanks, I reach down to gather my stuff. By the time I get to my feet, the driver has already scurried back to the front, buckled his seat belt, and is anxiously waiting for my departure.

Each step toward the door is agony. Was it ever my plan to come back to this godforsaken town? Never. I know what’s going to happen the moment I step off this bus. Foot traffic will stop, eyes will turn, and accusations will begin. Welcome home, Racquel.

As I pass the other passengers, most turn to look out the window and ignore me all together. However, there are a few who give me the stank eye as I pass, and what sounds like a good farewell back to Hell. How classy.

It’s funny. I’ve prepared myself for the last two weeks. Kept telling myself this is the best thing for me and that it would all work out somehow. I was fine. But the moment my feet hit the asphalt and the bus doors squeak shut behind me, unease hits hard. It could be due to the glares and gasps of shock. But I expected that.

The truth. I’m a failure. When I left home last year, I had every intention never to set foot in this town again. But after a few beatings and almost starving to death, I realized my journey was pointless and had no choice but to return here. It’s all I’ve ever known, even if all I’ve ever known is hatred.

Whispers reign all around me as I make my way past group after group of Shadows now gathering to gossip.

Screw them and their pure blood.

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