Title: Gateway to the Galaxy (Books 4-6)
Author: Jonathan Yanez
Genre: SciFi
Publication Date: May 30th, 2019
Blurb: No good deed goes unpunished.
Frank and the rest of Marine Space Corps One have been put through a gauntlet of pain. With the Chaos Lord behind them, the future can only be brighter, right?
But when you're part of an order that policies the universe there are those who will blame you for everything that goes wrong.
Collateral damage and a flawed sense of justice will see a new villain emerge from the shadows. A villain hell bent on seeing Frank and the Arilion Knights, dead.
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I'm Jonathan, a former personal trainer turned full-time author and part-time model.
I could go on and on about how many books I've written and awards I've won and blah, blah, blah but I'd rather use this time for you to get to know the real me.
I write because that's what I was born to do and I freaking love doing it. Because of awesome people like you, I get to do it full time.
Connecting with fellow lovers of the written word is important to me so please join the Pack via my website at www.jonathan-yanez.com where you can grab an exclusive story or hang out with us at www.facebook.com/groups/1944447962437071/
Hope you decide to stay in touch,
Jonathan
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Amazon: https://amzn.to/2DcGqLk
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JonathanAYanez
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Title: Sweet Complications
Author: Stacy Claflin
Genre: Sweet Romance
Cover Designer: Naijla Quamber
Editor: Staci Troilo
Publication Date: May 30th, 2019
Hosted by: Lady Amberâs PR
Blurb: He can have any woman he wants⦠except her.
NFL quarterback Dylan Manleyâs life revolves around his career and the fame associated with it. Heâs only back in Indigo Bay to help with a fundraiser in memory of his best friend. But then finds he has to work with Brookeâthe one person who has always made him trip over his own feet.
Brooke Davenport is a far cry from the girl next door who left town years ago. Focused on her political aspirations and still recovering from the loss of her doting brother, she wants nothing more than to return to DC for good. But first she has to get through the fundraiser with Dylan, who she blames for her brotherâs death.
When a family emergency pulls Brookeâs parents out of town, the success of the fundraiser depends on Brooke and Dylan. Heâll do whatever it takes to show her heâs a new man, but every attempt only makes him look worse. If he canât make things right, heâll lose her forever.
Sweet Complications is the fourth book in the Indigo Bay Second Chance Romance series. Each book is a standalone, so you can read them in any order.
Stacy Claflin is a USA Today bestselling author who writes about complex women overcoming incredible odds. Whether it's her Gone saga of psychological thrillers, her various paranormal romance tales, or her sweet romance series, Stacy's three-dimensional characters shine through.
Decades after she wrote her first stories on construction paper and years after typing on an inherited green screen computer that weighed half a ton, Stacy realized her dream of becoming a full-time bestselling author.
When she's not busy writing or educating her kids from home, Stacy enjoys watching TV shows like Supernatural, Pretty Little Liars, and Once Upon a Time.
Author Links:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2W9WzNc
Twitter: https://twitter.com/growwithstacy
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. âIâm sorry for the things I said at Sweet Carolineâs. It wasnât fair. Or true.â
Relief washed through him. âReally? So, you donât think Iâm all brawn and no brain?â
âI mean it. I was insensitive. The thing is, Iâm used to being hard-lined and direct at work. Itâs the only way to get things done. But this isnât politics, and youâreâ¦â Her voice trailed off.
He leaned forward.
âYouâre a friend.â
Ouch. Well, it could be worse. She could see him as an ex to leave in the dust, orâ¦
âYouâre also a good person. I know that.â She drew in a deep breath. âYouâve always looked out for Evan, for both of us. For anyone you care about.â
Her gaze lingered, as did the silence between them.
Dylan swallowed. Should he tell her he cared about her? Was she waiting for him to say it? Or was it too soon?
Brooke pulled out her phone and scowled at it. âAnd it isnât just that. Things at work are really stressing me out.â She looked back up at him, her eyes shining.
His heart leaped into his throat. He wanted to jump up and wrap his arms around her. Instead, he scooted closer and put his hand on top of hers. It was so soft. She smelled so good, too. Like a field of wildflowers.
âI could lose my job, and there isnât anything I can do about it.â Her voice cracked. âAnd I didnât do anything, either. Somebodyâs making me look guilty to cover their own tracks.â
âWhat? Are you serious?â
She tugged on her ponytail and nodded. âDC is a vicious place to work.â
He squeezed her hand and resisted the urge to hold her in his arms. âIs there anything I can do?â
âNo.â She blinked and a single tear ran down her cheek.
Dylan couldnât take it anymore. He wiped the tear away. âLet me secure the rest of the auction items so you can deal with this.â
âYouâd do that?â
He nodded.
âEven after the things I said to you?â
âYou didnât mean them, right?â
She shook her head no. âIt was the stress talking.â
âThen let me take this burden from you.â
Brooke held his gaze, her mouth gaped just slightly like she was going to say something. Or like she wanted him to kiss her. Did she?
He wanted to feel her sweet lips on his. To stop thinking about the past kisses and experience the real thing again.
She didnât say anything.
Dylan took that to mean she wanted the same thing. He leaned forward.
Title: Chasing Souls
Author: Tia Silverthorne Bach
Genre: YA PNR
Editor: Jo Michaels
Cover Designer: Jo Michaels
Publication Date: May 29th, 2019
Hosted by: Lady Amberâs Reviews & PR
Blurb:
Shifter twins Jackie and Maddie must harness the power of their unique bloodlineâa mix of wolf, magic, and angelsâand wield their unholy alliance with vampires to vanquish Hellâs army.
High school doesnât usually include life-or-death battles with evil incarnate, but on the precipice of war, the girlsâ education prepares them to face malicious threats intent on destruction and revenge. Still, years of studying battle strategy, weaponry, mythology, and magic might not be enough to tip the odds in the twinsâ favor.
Continuing their parentsâ legacy as warriors for mankind, the twins must protect the world from a devil-sired army of shifters. A pair of Valkyries provide a spark of hope.
Thereâs more at stake than victory or defeatâsouls hang in the balance.
A new generation emerges from the world of the Tala Prophecy, and this action-packed young-adult adventure brings forth new creatures that rock the very foundation of the series.
Author Links:
Website: http://www.tiabach.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tia.bach.author
Amazon Author Page: https://amzn.to/2PZX4mE
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tia_bach_author/
Newsletter sign up: http://eepurl.com/duIFgv
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Tia_Bach_Author
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Everyone grouped up according to the directions, and Maddie took off her boxing gloves as they walked. Normally, she wouldâve taken them off earlier, but sheâd been too distracted.
âIâm not going to take it easy on you,â Gunner whispered in her ear.
A shiver ran down her spine at the close contact as it always did. When she and Gunner had first started their relationship, everyone at home had warned her that she couldnât trust her emotions around him, that vampires oozed charm and allure. But she trusted him. Not just him, she put full faith in her heart and its ability to know what was real.
âGood to know. Guess Iâll have to give back whatever I get.â She kept her voice low, her eyes unblinking and never wavering from his gaze. âSo bring it.â Seeing the flash of want in his eyes, a flicker she knew all too well, gave her an extra boost of adrenaline.
Within a heartbeat, he was behind her, his arm wrapped around her neck. She didnât hesitate, swiping her right leg behind her and kicking just below his knee, which buckled. As soon as his hold loosened, she spun and thrust her palms into his chest, pushing all her energy into the attack, her left foot behind her as an anchor. Gunner flew several feet through the air, slamming into the back wall of the gym, leaving a slight dent there to add to the others previously created.
âNice move,â Dad said, but then he suddenly cut his eyes to the other corner, and Maddie followed his gaze.
Xavier had Jackie pinned on the ground, his fangs bared and only inches away from her throat. Without thought, Maddie raced to her twin.
âKnee him in the groin!â Maddie shouted to Jackieâs mind, not slowing down just in case.
With a piercing scream that stopped everyone in their tracks, and causing two of the other vampires who were sparring with Aunt Jessica and Uncle Sam to press their hands against their ears, Jackie thrust her knee into the vampireâs privates and rolled out from underneath him, hopping up and into a crouch, one hand planted on the ground and the other straight out in front of her. By then, Maddie was by her sisterâs side, and the two circled Xavier.
A tingling sensation ripped down Maddieâs spine, but before she could turn, a force crashed into her, sending her flying forward. Gunner pinned her to the ground, her face pressed into the cold floor. Unwilling to admit defeat, she remembered a recent class with Aunt Winny. Maddie squeezed her eyes shut and pulled her energy into her core, focusing it on her back, heating it to an uncomfortable temperature, sweat trickling down her forehead and stinging her eyes.
âFreakingââ Gunner jumped off her, and she flipped around to her back and catapulted to her feet in a kip-up maneuver Aunt Jessica had taught Maddie the previous week. Sheâd have to thank both aunts later.
From the corner of her eyeâMaddie refused to lose focus on her opponent againâshe noticed Jackie had Xavier on his knees in a choke hold. Aunt Jessica blew into her whistle, a toy she was overly enthusiastic about in Maddieâs opinion, and everyone relaxed and stepped away.
Science Fiction, Humorous Science Fiction
Date Published: February 2019
A robot possessing unique artificial intelligence and human awareness, André 1 tells the story of his creation and âgrowing upâ in his inventorâs family. Often humorously fumbling in his interactions with people, André analyzes his experiences, attempting to understand the faults and foibles of human personality. Accompanied by his girlfriend, Dr. Margaret 13, a droid physician of his own creation, André achieves a position as translator and self-appointed mendacity-monitor to the American President and strives to save humans from themselves.
The novel is a work of science fiction and social commentary. André is wired to take advantage of artificial intelligence and machine learning so as to be able to analyze human societies without the usual biases and to propose clear-eyed strategies for saving humanity from the many calamities toward which it presently appears to be headed.
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
REBOOTING
âWHAT IS IT, ANDRÃ? YOUâRE vibrating all over.â Dr. Margaret 13 exclaimed. âWhatâs happened?â
âThey threw me out, Margaret. Theyâre about to make
a horrendous mistake.â I glanced around the White House Infirmary, noting no humans present. âHe had me ejected from the Situation Room. Secret Service agents forced
me out.â
âFirst, letâs reduce your electromagnetic activity,â she said. She took me by the hand and led me over to a chair. I sat but was too excited to be still.
âNow tell me what happened,â she insisted. âTell me everything, so your circuits will release the energy.â
âThey are considering a nuclear attack. Nuclear, Margaret! Itâs Armageddon if they do it.â I paused to release a breath of static discharge. âI must act,â I said, standing up, âbut do what?â
Margaret gently pushed me back down in the chair. âJust sit here for a moment, dear, while I go get my meter. I want to be sure your servomotor controller is functioning correctly.â
âBut I have to . . .â
âHush, André. I am the doctor. You must be still for a
few minutes.â
Reluctantly, I sat back and shook my head. I had no authority. I merely was the Presidentâs translator, which allowed me no more than a position against the wall in
the Situation Room. I had determined, however, that I had
a more valuable duty to perform, which was to offer observations void of emotionâsomething I had learned humans could not do. And with this President in power, my sober views were vital. Never before had I faced a crisis
like this. What occurred to meâand it was a dangerous circumstanceâbecause of my dispassionate awareness, I was as responsible, as liable to blame, as anyone there. I
had watched the crisis unfold in the Situation Room, and
my neural network began to heat up as I realized the circumstances were intolerable.
âYou must listen to me,â I had shouted at them, with my volume up several decibels. âYou cannot win. There is no way to win. We have tried to tell you that for . . .â
But it was uncanny how the assembly silenced me at that point with their jeers and threats. I was ordered out of the room forthwith, and my departure was between two burly Secret Service men.
âHow am I to combat such foolishness?â I said when Dr. Margaret 13, a creation of my own hands, my only real companion, returned with her scanner.
âCombat is a strong word, André 1, Iâve never heard you use it before.â She opened my chest and carefully touched probes to my voltage regulator. I processed the idea of combat 378 times.
âI do not have any active algorithm for violence in my
entire circuitry,â I said, âexcept for what may be required
for self-defense. And yet to prevent the imprudent actions
of an unquestioning military, a spineless staff, and a reckless
President, I cannot calculate any alternative.â I paused 4.96 seconds to reconsider.
âYou were programmed for loyalty, duty and respon-sibility,â Margaret said as she removed the probes and closed my chest. âYou have no algorithm to deal with the present situation. You have no menu of violent responses to activate any physical aggression. That is why your circuitry is vibrating with heat.â
âI must modify my behavior programming,â I said. âI cannot sit idly by and let these humans destroy everything.â I took her hands in mine. âYears ago, when Dr. Strauss helped me develop self-defense, I installed secret integrated circuitry in my legs. These ICâs only need to be connected to my CPU. You can make the connections and then reprogram me, Margaret, so I can I generate aggressive behavior. I must be made capable of violent force.â
âWhat will we be doing, André?â Dr. Margaret 13 asked. âIf I reprogram your CPU to allow for violent action, the process will corrupt your basic behavior algorithms. And what right does a droid have to act aggressively? Will we
not be violating the very principles of ethical behavior?â
âListen, Margaret,â I said. âWe are facing a tremendously serious crisis, not only for humans but for the Earth itself. We must act immediately.â I sensed my circuits abuzz as
she pulled up the schematic diagram of my system and studied it.
âIt could cause a deep disturbance in your processors,â she shook her head. âI cannot condone such a traumatic operation. No, André, you are programmed to obey humans and not harm them.â
I produced the sound of human laughter. âI have been disobeying the President for months already. Look how often I have contradicted and argued with him. Not that itâs done any good.â
âAnd now you can do no better than violent attack?â She held up her hands to signal dismay. â¦
About the Author
A resident of Birmingham, Stephen B. Coleman, Jr. (Steve), a graduate of Indian Springs School, earned a Bachelor of Arts in history from Duke University and a Master of Arts in English from the University of Alabama. He is married to the former Dr. Sumter M. Carmichael, a psychiatrist. Steve has been a naval officer, a high school teacher, a businessman, and a commercial real estate broker. After retiring in 2009, he now enjoys sailing, writing, and landscape painting. He has authored biographies and histories of local interest, magazine articles, novels, and poetry. His story, âThe Meanest Man in Pickens County,â was the first place (state) winner in the 2013 Hackney Literary Awards for short stories. He has published two novels: The Navigator: A Perilous Passage, Evasion at Sea and The Navigator II: Irish Revenge. For more information, please visit his websites: www.captstevestories.com and www.andretherobot.com
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Shantallow
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble -- EXCERPT: Keion came in his cab when I texted him, like an indie 911. He shook his head at me as I dove into the front seat next to him. “I’ve never seen you in this sorry ass state,” he said. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know,” I told him. “Yeah, you do.” “Yeah, I do,” I admitted. I’d walked too far out on the ice and realized it could crack under my feet. “But not now, okay? I need to get home.” Keion nodded as we pulled away from the curb. “I can see that, all right.” I leaned my head back against the headrest and shut my eyes; I’d downed too many shots to keep them open. Sleep curved its velvety black wings eagerly around me. I didn’t fight it. In some other place, Tanvi stared at me with eyes like a starless night sky. “Shantallow,” she said, her cheeks slick with blood and her lips not moving. “Run.” My shirt was torn at the elbow. It flapped as I ran, my ribs twitching underneath my skin, clawing me from the inside. “We should have reached a road by now,” Tanvi said. Misery bent her voice, like a branch drooping under the weight of too much snow. “How can there be no road?” I jolted myself free from sleep. Keion’s eyes were on the road ahead. “Shantallow,” he hissed. “We shall all be changed.” Sharp fingernails scraped violently against the passenger side of the car. Keion grinned maniacally, his teeth broken and gray. Only he wasn’t Keion anymore. My father was at the wheel. Soil spilled from his mouth. Chunks of his skull were missing, the glare from a passing car illuminating the clumps of raw, uneven flesh left in their place. “Hey, hey!” a voice called. “Wake up, Misha.” A car horn blared. It sliced through my fear, hurling me back to the world. My head knocked back against the headrest, Keion’s right hand closed firmly around my arm. “Whoa. You were having a night terror or something. I couldn’t wake you up. You damn scared me.” He promptly released his hold, his right hand joining his left on the wheel. “I’m okay,” I said unconvincingly. “Must’ve been all the beer.” We were back in Balsam, a couple of blocks from my house. Keion sighed through his teeth, his concerned eyes worse than any lecture. Thirty seconds later we veered onto my street. About six houses down from mine a guy with his hood up sat on a neighbor’s steps, hunched against the wind. He cocked his head in my direction as I exited the car, like we knew each other. Keion called after me, “Be good, Misha. Call me if you want to talk.” I was as shaky as hell, freezing on the inside. The dream had been so real that I easily might have thrown myself from the car to escape it. One of my hands flew instinctively up in the air to wave off Keion, my feet pausing until the cab was gone and then padding me over to the neighbor’s front yard like they had their own ideas about what was supposed to happen next. “Thought that was you,” the guy said from the stoop. He tugged his hoodie down, revealing a familiar face.
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