See No More
-- EXCERPT: Oregon is the greenest state I’ve ever seen. Abundant, lush foliage carpets gentle, rolling hills as far as the eye can see. Farmland abuts forested areas. It’s breathtakingly gorgeous, and I can definitely see how someone could get lost here. The green landscape whizzes by and hypnotizes me as my brain begins to wander. I think of my childhood in Pasadena, just off the Caltech campus. We didn’t live in opulence, but we lived comfortably. Jen and I went to the private polytechnic school down the street from our house. It was where a lot of the professors’ kids went. I don’t know how my mom was able to afford to keep sending us there after Dad left, but we spent all twelve years of our education happily ensconced within its walls. Caltech was my playground when I was very little. My dad taught aeronautics and applied physics. In the summer, I used to run through campus and meet him in the green space in front of Beckman Laboratories for picnics. I remember lying on a blanket next to him discussing the possibility of him shrinking me some day like in the movie Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. He used to look around all shifty-eyed before leaning toward me and whispering, “Can you keep a secret?” Of course, I always said I could. He’d respond, “I’m closing in on the technology and I should be able to do it by the end of the year! What do you think we should do with all the money we’ll make once I sell the patent to my people-shrinking machine?” Then we’d plot what to do with our newfound riches. I wanted to spend a month at Disneyland before spending another month at Universal Studios in Orlando. Dad wanted to take my mom on a honeymoon, because they’d never gone on a real one. Then we tried to decide which house we’d buy. I had my eye on one we passed during our weekly walks to Huntington Gardens. It was a two-and-a-half story Spanish Colonial Revival with a pool. My dad joked that he wasn’t sure it would be big enough for the four of us, even though it had to be at least five times the size of our bungalow. Memories burst through my subconscious like a storm-engorged river breaching a failing dam. As soon as one pops into my mind, at least thirty more push their way forward with unstoppable force. I’m sitting on the plaid blanket we always used for our picnics, and my dad says, “Katie, life is never what you perceive it to be.” Then I’m lying in bed and he whispers, “Believe the unbelievable. Things are never what you think they are.” Suddenly, I’m flying through the warm Southern California breeze on my bicycle, and he yells out, “Just because you think these are trees, doesn’t make them trees. Always be open to the truth. Believe in what you can’t see.” In retrospect, it’s clear he was trying to prepare me for something. At the time I just remember thinking, Silly, Daddy, of course they’re trees. What else would they be? In my child’s eye, everything was exactly as it appeared. My dad was my rock, my mom and sister were ever-present love and comfort, the sky was blue, and life was good. Until it wasn’t.
GIVEAWAY!
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Dead Sea
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GIVEAWAY! Meant to be Different
-- Book 1 – Meant to Be Kept – is FREE on July 1 & 2 only! -- EXCERPT: “What would you say if I told you that I could fix this? At least a temporary band-aid that will give you time to talk to your insurance agent—and an attorney I might add—without screwing up your timeline.” Her brows lifted in a silent challenge. The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’d say I always knew you were an Angel, but that might be a miracle just slightly out of your grasp.” She rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. “Do you want to know or not? This deal might expire if you’re gonna pull the Rhinestone Cowboy routine.” “You always did like giving me options.” His brows popped twice. Gigi moved to dig in the small container sitting on his desk before producing a silver coin. “Flip ya for it? Heads I tell you my plan and you don’t give me shit, tails I let you figure this out on your own.” He tilted his head back and laughed, releasing her before rounding his desk and reaching into the drawer. “Now, Angel, this is my life, my career, and my future.” Our future, he corrected in his head, but wasn’t sure that was something he was confident enough to speak out loud. “We need something a bit more grown-up than flipping a coin.” She lifted one shoulder. “We’ve always done pretty well with it in the past.” Wyatt held a pack of cards between his fingertips. “Poker, Angel. Something this serious requires a serious game.” A mischievous grin curled her lips and every nerve ending on his body took notice. The wicked promises the small gesture offered nearly wiped his mind clear of the looming threat to the future he was so carefully constructing. “If we are playing poker, let’s make it really interesting, Cowboy.” He swallowed his suddenly parched throat three times. “What’d you have in mind there, Gigi?” She leaned across the desk and plucked the deck from his hand. “Strip poker. Winner gets to decide what our next step for your ranch is and where we end up tonight.” Her tongue darted out to run along her bottom lip. “I have a lot of ideas.” The answer was quick, easy, and required absolutely no thought. “Deal me in.”
GIVEAWAY!
Title: Imperium Academy
Author: Rebecca Bosevski
Genre: YA Superhero Fiction
Cover Designer: Story Styling Cover Designs
Publisher: Silver Crown Books
Publication Date: July 2nd, 2019
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Blurb:
A genetic leap gave her powers, but before she can take up the cape, Ellen will have to brave Imperium Academy.
Ellen doesn't remember much about her parents, they died when she was four. Raised by her aunt she's envied for years the homo-magis children called on to be tested and subsequently enrolled in one of the five academyâs for heroes.
Ellen isn't a homo-magis.
Or so she thought.
Her parents were two of the first Superheroes, their lives sacrificed to stop Novaside and save their only child.
Ecstatic, yet a little nervous to finally be a part of the world she'd dreamed of, Ellen is off to Imperium Academy.
But her classing doesn't go as expected.
Instead of joining the ranks of the illustrious Star Heroes, Ellen is regulated to the role of Sidekick, after all, night vision is barely a superpower.
Many have begun to question the need for Sidekicks, some teachers even suggesting they would be better suited to other employment.
But with Novaside getting bolder, and her latest attack hitting too close to home, Ellen is determined to stay at the academy and prove them wrong.
After all, where better to learn to be a hero than a school full of supers?
REBECCA BOSEVSKI is a speculative fiction author living on the east coast of Australia. Now that the Enchanting the Fey series is complete, Rebecca has plans to rapid release her Imperium Academy six book series over the next 18 months - that is if she can stop binge watching every Neflix movie made staring Noah Centineo. You can visit her at https://rebeccajaynebosevski.wixsite.com/author
Author Links:
Newsletter Signup: https://bit.ly/2wGWGjV
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RebeccaBosevski
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2RIqoiv
Her classroom had seating for thirty-four students but a third of them sat empty now. It was an inevitable outcome. Of course they would leaveâshe would have. Had she had that option. Had she been born a magis instead of a regular plain old sapien.
Ellen propped her head on her hand, staring at the orange and red leaf flicking at the window pane as she tried to recall their names. The names of the ones now living the life she dreamed of.
When she started middle school, she made a point not to befriend the magis children. They would all be gone soon enough, once they received their green and gold technote inviting them to be tested.
And though she knew her invitation would never come, it did nothing to stay the dreamsâeach night she saw herself presenting to a Safe Haven Clinic to have her gene blocker reversed, freeing her enhancements from their suppression.
And each night a different gift emerged. Flight, strength, speed. Each gift, each power, as incredible as the last. Ellen dreamed of using her awakened enhancements to defeat the rebels in the streets of New State, New York, until her aunt would break through her illusions with a call for breakfast, sending the scent of bacon to awaken her mind.
For three years she watched the magis children while they prepared for what was to come, a future in the spotlight of the world. A future protecting the ones like her, the normals. The weak. The homo-sapiens. Even the class fives, the ones who would become sidekicks, didnât come back.
Now, on her fourteenth birthday, Ellen found herself in her first week of high school, staring mindlessly at the empty chairs they would have occupied while her teacher regaled what was left of her students with a tale of heroes lost.
A rumble vibrated through the classroom floor, pulling Ellen from her daze. Her teacherâs monotonous voice was interrupted by the shrill siren of the cityâs emergency system. Ellenâs heart raced as she pushed aside the notebook covering her deskâs inbuilt screen, just as the first image appeared.
Red bolded font scrolled beneath the alternating pictures and videos of the aftermath of another attack. The rebels had leveled a Safe Haven Clinic, the feed showed a dust cloud billowing through the streets filled with people stumbling from the darkness, hugging their bloodied arms against their chests as if that would keep them safe.
SEVENTEEN HOMO-SAPIENS CONFIRMED DEAD IN ANOTHER REBEL ATTACK ⦠HOMO-MAGIS SILVERLIGHT FREES CHILD FROM DEBRIS ⦠âTHESE BRUTAL ATTACKS ON THE HELPLESS MUST BE STOPPED,â COMMANDER CUMMINGS SAYS DURING PRESS CONFERENCE â¦
Title: The Crane Diaries: The Red Church
Author: Apryl Baker
Genre: NA Horror/Paranormal
Cover Designer: Deranged Doctor Design
Publisher: Limitless Publishing, LLC
Publication Date: July 2nd, 2019
Blurb:
In the swamps of New Orleans sits an old church.
Its history is steeped in blood and death.
For over a century, this abandoned church has inspired fear, and the rumors of the creatures that inhabit it have kept the locals away.
The church has been sold, but work on the property has stalled. Centuries-old fears resurface when accidents start to befall the construction crews and ghosts are seen wandering the derelict stone building. No one dares go back until the property has been cleansed.
The Hathaway Foundation is hired to rid the property of ghosts so that work can begin again, only Emma Crane soon discovers itâs not the ghosts they have to fear, but something far more evil.
There was a reason the church was abandoned, a reason a powerful protection spell was put around the property, and a reason everyone from her fatherâs priest to Silas, her demonic grandfather, is warning her to stay away.
But now that sheâs discovered what roams the halls, she canât walk away. She canât be responsible for innocents dying when she might have prevented it.
Sheâll gather her team and go up against something she thought existed only in books and movies, something even the hunters in the area fearâa primordial evil, a creature that spawned the first vampires.
But can she stop the creature before itâs too late, before its family destroys hers?
Well, Iâm the crazy girl with an imagination that never shuts up. I LOVE scary movies. My friends laugh at me when I scare myself watching them and tell me to stop watching them, but who doesnât love to get scared? I grew up in a small town nestled in the southern mountains of West Virginia where I spent days roaming around in the woods, climbing trees, and causing general mayhem. Nights I would stay up reading Nancy Drew by flashlight under the covers until my parents yelled at me to go to sleep.
Now, I live in a small town in West Virginia where I entertain my niece and nephew and watch the cats get teased by the birds and laugh myself silly when they swoop down and then dive back up just out of reach. The cats start yelling something fierceâ¦lol.
I love books, I love writing books, and I love entertaining people with my silly stories.
Author Links:
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Title: True Gold
Author: Michelle Pace
Genre: Romantic Suspense, Mystery
Cover Designer: Michelle Preast
Publisher: Tule Publishing
Blurb:
Growing up in True, Alaska, the only truth I knew was that Delilah Campbell was an arrogant pain in my ass. She was also my everything, and still haunts my every waking moment.
I donât have a single memory that doesnât include Lie, and I can still taste her, even though Alaskaâs no longer big enough for the both of us. After our savage breakup, I fled, chasing my dream and becoming a decorated Green Beret. Ten years later, one bad jump propelled me straight from Special Forces back home, guiding rich idiots into the wilderness, where I struggle to keep them from getting themselves killed. Itâs not the life I planned, but at least Iâm not behind a desk somewhere.
Then one night, my cell rings, shattering my peaceful existence.
âConnor,â Iâd recognize her voice anywhere, and itâs like Iâm sixteen again, crazy in love and cocky as hell after finding all those gold bars everyone's been searching for since before we were even born.
I want to tell her to go to hell and throw my phone in the river, but it seems Delilahâs visceral grip on me is permanent.
âItâs mom. Sheâs missing. I need your helpâ¦."
Raised in small town Iowa, Michelle Pace is an international best-selling, multi-genre author. After studying theater and vocal music and directing and performing in numerous productions, Michelle went on to earn degrees in both liberal arts and nursing.
Determined to avoid shoveling snow, she relocated to the Lone Star State with her husband, author L.G. Pace III. Michelle is a mother of three, and she enjoys traveling, live music, and is an enthusiastic amateur beer connoisseur.
Still most at home while entertaining an audience, her mission is to write gripping fiction, not fairy tales.
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2HhFcRB
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MichelleKPace
âThis is new.â I reach out to brush her tiny strap aside for a better look at the ink. The tattoo is an antique compass rose, the figure that displays the orientation of the cardinal directions on old maps. The design is actually really nice; a couple of roses and some leaves give the outer circle a wreath-like quality.
âNot really. I got it a long time ago.â Her voice is husky as my fingertip glides across her silky skin. Gooseflesh appears on her upper arm, and that gives me a thrill. âWhen I was likeâ¦twenty⦠maybe twenty-one.â
She turns around, and her hip brushes against the front of my zipper. Iâd say the contact made me hard, but I was halfway there watching her from outside. She looks up at me, and though sheâs had to crane her neck to meet my eyes since we were in middle school, itâs always felt as if she were the one looking down on me.
âI was dating the tattoo artist. I guess you could call it âdating.ââ Her tiny eye roll implies it wasnât one of her finer moments.
I tilt my head, my blood pumping something fierce between my jealousy at the idea that anyone else has ever touched her and her sheer nearness in this moment. âOh yeah?â
She nods, and a macabre smile flits across her face. âHe was tall. And a major know-it-all. Totally my type.â
I feel an appreciative smile working at my lips.
âWhy didnât you marry him?â Itâs a bold and weighty statement and her mouth drops open. She searches me, and for a rare, candid moment, I allow it.
âHe was mean.â I see something flicker behind those liquid amber eyes.
âSounds like a match made in heaven.â My voice is gruff, but Iâm glad I spoke the truth. Iâm even gladder for how solidly the blow lands, based on the way her perfect bow of a mouth turns down at the edges. In a surprising move, she lifts herself easily onto the counter so sheâs sitting on it, and I struggle to keep my eyes off of her well-defined arms and that gravity-defying chest. âThis doesnât have to be ugly, Connor. Letâs have a beer. Catch up. Talk about old times.â
I say nothing, and her lips form a slanted smile. âWe did have some good times, didnât we?â
Thatâs for fucking sure.
I could step between her legs right now. Slip her panties aside and bury myself in her tight, wet heat. It would be as easy as breathing, and three-quarters of me is ready to take the easy route. I move to the far cabinets away from her, putting temptation at armâs length. From there, I have an even better view, so I force myself to look away, grabbing a beer from the fridge. âNo.â
âNo we didnât have good times, or no we canât talk about them?â She sounds entertained.
I crack my beer and lock eyes with her. âWeâre not talking about us.â
Sheâs completely unreadable now, and that puts me on edge. âWhy not?â
I lean against the cabinet, sipping from my beer. âBecause Iâm not done being mad at you.â
She blasts an incredulous laugh and when I donât respond in kind, her laughter dies, and she gives me another thorough once-over.
âYouâre mad at me? Youâve got to be kidding.â
I tip back my can in response.
She lets out a sardonic chuckle, but sheâs obviously pissed. âThatâs rich.â
I wait for her to convince me that I shouldnât hate her. She seems to be waiting on something too. Her smile, the one that isnât really a smile at all, fades.
âYou promised me, Connor. You promised weâd always be friends.â Itâs nearly imperceptible, but her lip quivers. Most people wouldnât have noticed, but most people arenât me.
I wrinkle my brow, squinting at her in amazement. âYou were very clear, Lie. You said I should never contact you again. Howâd you put it? Oh, yeah. You said, âHave a nice life.ââ
Her shining eyes narrow into dangerous slits. Then, in a classic Lilah move, she wipes her expression blank, closing the shutters, blocking out any hope of peeping inside. âFair enough.â
I should be glad weâre on the same page. That weâre slamming the door on all of that shit. Instead, I want to roar. Frustrated, I chug my beer. By the time Iâm done, sheâs chewing on her bottom lip. Itâs a quirk of hers that Iâve always found sexy as hell, so itâs like a metaphorical kick in the nuts.
âIâm staying in my old room.â Sheâs either blushing, or sheâs still coming down from the crisp night air. âTake any of the other beds you like.â
My treacherous mind recalls the handful of times I snuck in her bedroom window, and I know exactly which bed I want to slip into. I hurry to grab my bag from where Iâd dropped it in the entryway. Iâm startled when she speaks again.
âConnor?â
âYeah?â I turn, hopeful that Iâve finally gotten through her armor in some minute way. Maybe sheâll cry. Crying would be excellent.
âThank you.â Her earnest eyes tug at my worn and frayed heartstrings. âFor coming to help me.â
I drop my bags and stride toward her. Instead of flinching away, she leans forward in anticipation. Though we donât touch, we still clash like two storm fronts, me dark and ominous, her all lightning and show. Iâm close enough to kiss her, and she bats those long lashes, which used to be my undoing. The challenge in her smoldering gaze elicits a deep ache in my groin. I grip the counter top on either side of her thighs until my knuckles turn white.
âIâm not here for you,â I growl.
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