Friday, July 10, 2020

Cover Reveal Hex Factor by Andie M. Long #coverreveal #PNR #RomCom

Hex Factor
The Paranormals
Book One
Andie M. Long

Genre: Paranormal Romantic Comedy
Publisher: Andie M. Long
Date of Publication: 3 August 2020
Number of pages: approx. 200
Word Count: 40,000
Cover Artist: Tammy Clarke at The Graphics Shed

Tagline: Hex, Blood, Rock and Roll.

Book Description:

Vampire guitarist Noah is about to face the music…

At auditions for Britain's Best New Band things get awkward when Noah bumps into his old high school sweetheart and sassy ex. The one he dumped to form his band, The Paranormals.

Witch Stacey has never forgotten Noah’s betrayal. Determined to charm the judges with her own band and win the recording contract, it will be the perfect revenge on her ex.

But as the competition heats up, so does the chemistry between them, until one of the show's presenters going missing threatens everything.

With ghosts on the loose and bands who will stop at nothing to win, can Noah and Stacey survive the competition and claim each other's hearts? Or are they doomed to be just another cliché of Hex, blood, rock and roll?

About the Author:

Andie M. Long is author of the popular Supernatural Dating Agency series amongst many others.

She lives in Sheffield with her long-suffering partner and son.

When not being partner, mother, writer, or chocoholic, she can usually be found on Facebook or walking her whippet, Bella.

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Thursday, July 09, 2020

.99 Cent Sale Blitz The Sea Archer by Jeny Heckman #99centsale

The Sea Archer
Heaven and Earth Series
Book One
Jeny Heckman

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

Tagline: When opposites meet the attraction is undeniable, but Fate has other plans.

Book Description:

Raven Hunter, a musical prodigy, flees to the Hawaiian Islands to pick up the pieces after her marriage to her manager collapses. Instead, she experiences extraordinary and unsettling events that are beyond her understanding.

Living in paradise, marine biologist, Finn Taylor has the unconscious but effortless ability to understand the needs of the animals he cares for. His playboy lifestyle is most men’s fantasy. That is, until the night he meets the shy and elusive new island resident. Suddenly his life no longer feels like his own.

The attraction is undeniable. However, vastly contrasting lives, peculiar dreams, and an unbelievable proclamation that they could be the direct descendants of Poseidon and Apollo threaten to divide them forever. Will they accept their destiny and begin the quest of a lifetime or will they remain in their comfortable yet separate existence?

 On Sale for .99

Amazon     Nook      iBook

Excerpt #1: (172 words)

The crowd parted just enough for her to behold the most adorable animal she’d ever seen. It was a seal, maybe four feet in length, with a torpedo-shaped body, short, steel-gray fur, and a white spotted underbelly. A bulbous head, containing intelligent black eyes, smiled back at her, causing her infectious laugh to broadcast over the collective.

A man she hadn’t noticed knelt next to the seal and turned his head slowly at the sound of her laugh, seemingly searching for someone or something. He wore dark mirrored sunglasses, but somehow, she knew the power of the gaze behind the glasses would be transfixing. With the descending sun on her back, the pendant she wore grew hot and felt like a kind of pressure pushing her back. Raven couldn’t take her gaze off the man as the sun shone on his face, making it awash with light. She could tell his hair was very light and that he had a short beard and muscular body.

The weight of his stare scared her.

About the Author:

Award-winning author, Jeny Heckman, was born in Bellingham, Washington, and was the youngest of two daughters. She met her husband, Jeff, in August 1992, and eloped three months later, at Magen’s Bay, on St. Thomas, U.S.V.I.
She wrote her first book, the Catch, in a few short months but took several years before she gained the courage to self-publish it at her son’s urging, and her love for writing began.

In 2018, Jeny knew her next project would be a series that showed adults could have adventures in the paranormal-fantasy genre too. So, she created the Heaven & Earth series, a story of doomed Greek gods and their only salvation, their modern-day descendants. Her first book of the series, the Sea Archer, was immediately picked up by the New York publishing house, the Wild Rose Press, and won, “Best in Category” from the 2018 Chanticleer International Book Awards.

In the year 2020, Jeny released, Dancing Through Tears, a short story from the anthology, Australia Burns: Volume Two, highlighting the Route 91 massacre from the perspective of one family at the concert, and at Mandalay Bay. She also intends to release, the Warrior’s Progeny, and Dee’s Cornucopia, in 2020, continuing the Heaven & Earth Series.

Jeny lives in Washington State with her husband of over twenty-eight years.

Amazon Author Central:

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Cover Reveal - A Stream of Darkness by Avery Kilpatrick #urbanfantasy #coverreveal

A Stream of Darkness
Crymsen Crescent
Book One
Avery Kilpatrick

Genre: Urban Fantasy, New Adult with a dash of romance
Publisher: Avery Kilpatrick
Date of Publication: July 31, 2020
Word Count: 62,358
Cover Artist: Warren Design

Book Description:

A reformed killer, a dragon agent, and a lone shifter must work together to investigate four abductions…

I've always had a close relationship with death.

Six years ago, I was the Renegade, the Wolf of Eden, terrorizing the streets of a small town in Mississippi. Now, after a plea deal that saved my life, I work for the police as a consultant and unofficial cop.

Obsidian Moon, the Underworlder police agency, isn't doing anything about the disappearances of four college women. It falls to my shoulders while I'm stressing over my college assignments and the new transfer who thinks testing my control is a great pasttime.

Then there's him. The mystery shifter who danced with me at a club and reminds me of home.  And he seems to be more than just a random stranger who walked up to an ex-murderer and danced rather than fight.

But I have bigger concerns than two sexy men on my tail as a stream of darkness hangs over Paradise Grove.

The opening of a new series, A Stream of Darkness, will have you guessing at every turn and turning the pages to learn more.

About the Author:

Avery Kilpatrick was born in Flowood, Mississippi, in April 1996. Raised in a small town in the Mississippi Delta, she has a fondness for nature and the cotton fields that create Southern snow pastures in the fall. After writing her first novel when she was thirteen, Avery decided to pursue her dream as an author at a young age.

An alumnus of Delta State University in Cleveland, Mississippi, Avery graduated with a Bachelor’s in English. She also worked on the student-run newspaper, The Delta Statement, during her four-year career at Delta State as copy-editor and Editor-in-Chief.

Avery currently lives in a ranch-style home in her hometown in Greenwood, Mississippi. The mother of three fur babies, Cinnamon the spoiled cat, Ginger the rambunctious old lady, and Remington a.k.a. Remi the service dog, Avery has enough fur from shedding animals to make a fourth pet. When Avery isn’t busy writing her next novel, she goes on walks with her mother and dogs, watches Outlander or Criminal Minds on Netflix, or can be found curled up on the couch with Cinnamon reading a good book.

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Tuesday, July 07, 2020

Interview - LESSIA by Lucas Ryan Maloney

1.     What inspired you to become an author?

A- I’ve always been a storyteller at heart, but when I was younger, I had a difficult time translating what I had in my head to words on a page. Then, about 8 years ago, I had a profound experience. Some might call it religious or spiritual, others might have a different name for it, but the long short of it is, I was on a walk and got caught in a thunderstorm, and something just clicked in my head, and from then on I found it much easier to write, and have been since.
2.     Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

A - There are a few messages, however the most prominent one is rather simple, but powerful, and very important in this day and age; that Love is unconquerable.
3.     Is the book, characters, or any scenes based on a true life experience, someone you know, or events in your own life?

A - I think the list would be shorter if you asked me what WASN’T based on something in reality. The main characters are all facets of my personality, or are based on the personality of friends, family, or others. In particular, in Chapter 6, Lessia comes across “trees" that are made of glass; this was inspired from a moment in my childhood. There had been an ice storm the night before, freezing everything over. There was a single tree in our front yard which got covered entirely, and the way the light refracted through the ice, made it appear as though it was clear, like glass.
4.     Of all the characters you’ve ever written, who is your favourite and why?

A - Oh gosh, that’s a tough one… I’ll answer that twofold. Zethras is my favourite character because he’s simultaneously one of the least relatable, and most relatable, and he’s also based around my physical appearance. My other favourite character is one that you won’t meet in book 1, but book 2. Without giving major spoilers, she’s a rather unassuming lass, but is immensely strong, think Pippi Longstocking, but without the extroverted personality. In fact she’s quite introverted, and has Ochlophobia; the fear of large crowds. I drew upon a lot of personal knowledge I possess about how someone with a specific fear experiences that fear; their physical and mental reactions, and how to push past a panic attack.
5.     If this book is part of a series…what is the next book? Any details you can share?

A - Very much so, Eluramance Chronicles is planned to be a trilogy, though it may evolve into a tetralogy but I’m not sure at this point. I don’t have a title set in stone yet, but my working title is “Unity.” You’re going to be reuniting with the same characters, while also meeting some new ones, some somewhat typical, others very different. I’m probably around 65-70% of the way through the skeleton of the manuscript for book 2 at this point, and I am very pleased with the direction it’s going.

6.      What books/authors have influenced your life?

A - I know she’s not a very popular lady right now, but J. K. Rowling and Harry Potter were the first large sized books that I got to experience as a child; my mom, dad, sister, brother and myself would have story time before bed, and the first of those books were Harry Potter. Christopher Paolini and the Inheritance Cycle were the first large sized novels that I owned myself, and were my gateway into the high fantasy world. And of course, J. R. R. Tolkien, who is the grandfather of modern high fantasy. And although he’s less of an author, and he hasn’t written a book per se, Matthew Mercer from Critical Role in an inspiring storyteller.
7.      Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

A - For me, the two hardest things are having to juggle the multiple, and very distinct personalities of my characters when they’re interacting together in a large group, especially when it’s a very emotional moment. I need to separate myself from… myself? It’s difficult not letting my own biases or opinions, or emotional reactions filter into the equation. The other thing I often have trouble with is coming up with names for characters. Names are powerful, and they need to sound right, and when they don’t, it sticks out like a sore thumb.
8.      Do you have any advice for other writers?

A - Creativity is like a garden. If you leave it unattended for too long, it will wither. If you give it too much of what it needs, it will drown. If you give it exactly what it needs, it will flourish, and produce an endless supply of what YOU need.
You may go for a long time between the seeding of a garden, but the earth will always remember what to do; so will the seeds, the rain, and the sun. All it needs is something to bring them together. It needs a gardener.
Be your creativity’s gardener. Tend it, nurture it, allow it to grow, bud, and blossom, and then enjoy its fruits.
9.      What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in progress?

A - Eluramance Chronicles: Lessia is set to release to the public soon. Because of the Coronavirus pandemic, I can’t give a definite date as to when you’ll see it on a shelf or on a web store, but it will be soon. As for works in progress, Book 2 of Eluramance Chronicles is well underway, and taking shape nicely. I hope very much that you, your followers, audience, and the rest of the people out there will enjoy it.

Eluramance Chronicles
Book One
Lucas Ryan Maloney

Genre: Fantasy

Publisher: FriesenPress

Date of Publication:

Number of pages: 342
Word Count: 91,727

Cover Artist: Bryan Maloney

Book Description:

A war is brewing between demonic forces and the peoples of Eluramance...

Lessia has always wanted to be a mancer, one of the great magic-wielders of Eluramance. Her wish comes true when, in an act of desperation, she performs her first act of magic and is granted admission to the Academy of Magic.

There, she learns the skills and discipline to use her gifts for the sake of good. Upon graduation, Lessia intends to dedicate her life to the study of magic. But when her class is killed by demons and her best friend taken, Lessia is instead thrust into the war between Eluramance’s forces of good and Zavus’ evil army of demons.

Each of the races of Eluramance brings their own unique prowess to the field of battle. For the dwarves, their strength; the elves, their wisdom; the orcs, their might; the humans, their drive, and the Drakonics, their ancient connection to the powers that forged the world, and the magics of those ancient ones. As for Lessia, a seeming no-one caught between these dangerous powers, what can she possibly wield to protect her home from the forces of evil?

Discovering her place in this battle for existence, Lessia journeys through the distinct—and often dangerous—provinces of Eluramance, fighting Zavus’ deadly lieutenants on the path to facing the Dark One himself. With the help of powerful allies, she will battle for the soul of her country—and uncover the true nature of her own exceptional ability.

Download a FREE ARC from the author's site

Excerpt Chapter 10
Light And Shadow

Vaelik stood over Lessia, his evil smile wide. “Stupid girl,” he said. “Your friends sent you here, never intending for you to succeed. They sent you here to die.”
“They would never!” Lessia said with as much defiance as she could muster.
“And yet, here you lie, barely alive and helpless to prevent me from ending your life,” Vaelik said. “However, there is a way for you to not only keep your life but to become so much more powerf—”
Lessia didn’t allow him to finish speaking instead, she spat a globule of blood into his eye. “Keep your offer, demon collaborator,” she said. “I would rather die a thousand times over than become Zavus’ plaything.”
Vaelik’s eyes narrowed. He drew his arrow back, aiming directly at Lessia’s heart.
Suddenly, the green darklight torches extinguished, bathing the chamber in inky darkness. Lessia heard a soft sound, like fabric drawn over a surface, and then a clash of arms, followed by a brief shower of sparks that illuminated Vaelik and his hooded opponent.
On an instinct fuelled by adrenaline, Lessia lashed out with her armoured boot and connected with what felt like a leg, knocking one of the two people to the floor. Someone grabbed her leg. The sensation of displacement without motion overwhelmed her dazed senses for a moment but cleared quickly.
Vaelik yelled a foreign word, and the darklights flared back into existence. Lessia found herself behind one of the crates on the opposite side of the room, next to a hooded woman carrying a curved black short sword.
“Who are you?” Lessia asked softly.
“Like you even have to ask,” the woman said. She pulled her hood down, revealing Marian’s grinning face. “Let’s kill this bastard first,” Marian whispered, holding a hand up, stalling Lessia’s stream of questions. Marian placed a hand on her shoulder, and Lessia felt energy flow into her body, fortifying her.
“I don’t have a weapon,” Lessia said. “I…broke it.”
“Just distract him and cast me some shadows,” Marian said.
Lessia nodded. “Cover your eyes.”
Marian pulled her hood back up and readied her blade. Lessia let out another blinding flash of light, even brighter than before, causing Vaelik to cry out. Lessia stood up and saw Vaelik cringe, so she yelled at him. He blindly launched an emerald green bolt of lightning at her, which she evaded easily. As she rolled away, Lessia emitted a constant aura of light, casting shadows off all the various objects in the room.
As soon as the shadows appeared, Marian rolled into the nearest one and vanished in a puff of black smoke.
“Maneuver it closer to him,” Marian whispered in Lessia’s mind.
“Be ready,” Lessia replied. She peeked around the corner of her cover. The shadow Marian was hiding in was about ten feet away from Vaelik. She knelt and rolled across to another cover, a bolt of lightning missing her by inches.
“Come out, Luxmancer. I promise you won’t suffer,” Vaelik said.
“I know, and I promise you won’t either,” Lessia retorted. She rolled away again and saw the shadow reach Vaelik. Marian reappeared and stabbed her blade into Vaelik’s abdomen, thrusting her face in front of his.
“Light and shadows are never without the other,” Marian said, ripping the blade out and then impaling it up through Vaelik’s chin and through his head, piercing out the top of his skull.
Vaelik’s green eyes dimmed instantly, and his body went limp. Blood poured from all his various stab wounds. Lessia extinguished the bright aura she had produced and conjured an orb of light that floated just below the ceiling. She looked at Marian, who retrieved her weapon from Vaelik’s corpse. Marian grinned, and the two embraced.
“I’m sorry,” Marian said.
Lessia looked at her. “For what? You just saved my life.”
“For trying to kill you, all those months ago,” Marian said. “I just…”
Lessia shushed her with a hand. “I know you weren’t yourself, you had one of Zavus’ demons in you, controlling you. You aren’t to blame.”
“No, Lessia, that is not how it works,” Marian said, on the verge of tears. “The demon spirit doesn’t control you; it enhances whatever attribute your magic has. And as you know, Umbramancy is aligned with pride, and it was that pride that drove me to seek vengeance on the light and you.”
“She speaks the truth,” a voice said. Marian whirled around, her blade ready to strike, but neither she nor Lessia saw anybody.
“Oh, come now, Lightless, you would recognize my voice anywhere,” the voice said. Vaelik’s body suddenly raised, as if it was a puppet on strings. “She wanted so badly to spill your blood that even if I hadn’t told her to do so, she likely would have on her own.”
Marian screamed in frustration and anger, throwing her blade at Vaelik’s possessed corpse, impaling his left eye.
“You defile the very air that carries your words, Zavus,” Marian said, her voice full of venom.
Using Vaelik’s own body, Zavus pulled the dagger from Vaelik’s eye, tearing bits of flesh with it.
“How rude,” Zavus said, “and to think I was going to keep the two of you alive for my experimentation. But I see you’re far too much trouble.”
Two things happened simultaneously. Zavus conjured a black flame tinted with red and green, and Marian grabbed Lessia. Just as the flame fully manifested, Lessia’s vision went dark, and she felt the same odd sensation of displacement without motion.
A split second later, Lessia found herself back in the Temple of Aero, surrounded once again by Zethras and the Drakonics.
“See?” Zethras said. “I told you I could still feel her life force, despite passing from my sight.” He then looked at Marian. “I am, however, surprised to see you. How did you manage to find Lessia where we failed?”
Marian grinned and grasped something hanging around her neck on a silver chain, removed it, and tossed it to Zethras, who caught it.
Zethras opened his hand, revealing a polished silver ring which, upon close inspection, was very faintly sending out a gentle pulse in a particular direction—towards Lessia.
“How…?” Zethras asked. “This needs to be paired with…”
Lessia reached into one of the small pouches on her sword belt and removed Marian’s silver ring, which Morgaen had retrieved for her from the site of the ambush at Mount Lainor. She held it up at eye level between her fingers, and a look of recognition crossed Zethras’ face.
“Evelyn found these rings on one of her early adventures before we met,” Marian said. “They were on an island covered with ancient Elvish ruins. They bear an inscription that reads ‘Meyu-das-shyn’, but neither Evelyn or any of her crew could translate it.”
“Beacons of the heart,” Zethras said. “It has been a long time since I have seen one of these, let alone a bonded pair that still work perfectly.” He looked up from the ring in his palm. “It is an ancient type of Hemomancy that, like so many other things, has been forgotten by most. For the last ten thousand years, elemental magics have become more and more prominent, and Hemomancy has faded into myth and legend. There has not been a new Hemomancer in nearly a thousand years, ever since the Red Twilight tragedy.”
“I recall that name,” Lessia said. “It was in one of my history books, but only as a reference point to other events. What happened?”
“I had learned of a rumour that one of my disciples had been dabbling in a forbidden form of Hemomancy, commonly known as blood magic,” Zethras said.
“Isn’t that redundant?” Lessia asked, confused.
“No,” Zethras said firmly. “Hemomancy, at its most basic level, enhances life energy and then uses that creative force to accomplish a task. Because life itself is not restricted to a single form of thought, that energy can be made to do nearly anything.” He scowled. “Blood magic consumes life energy as a fuel, instead of enhancing it. Blood mages cut themselves, spilling their blood and draining the energy from their bodies, or through sacrificing another. It is the most unholy act one can do, as it desecrates the gift Hemo gave us so many ages ago.” Zethras turned and looked out the window.
“So, I travelled to the Temple of Hemo, which lies in ruins today. I found all but one of my students lying dead, arranged in a circle, drained of all their blood. The murderer spoke to me in a calm tone, saying Hemo had come to him in a vision, that he wanted his followers to join him in his realm. He was to send them to Hemo, for Hemo had chosen him as Hemo’s Scion.”
Scion. The word rang in Lessia’s mind. She remembered what Vaelik had called her—the Scion of Lux.
“What does that mean, Scion?” asked Lessia
It was Morgaen who spoke. “Sometimes, when a child is born with magic, it forms a different kind of bond with them. Ever since the Seven passed from Eluramance, a portion of their power remained, to forever be passed down in the spirits of those who follow their path. These individuals are called Scions. Even though they are not bound to a dragon’s soul like we are,” she said, indicating the Drakonics, “their powers are immense. To complement this, they wield their respective fragment.”
“How often do they appear?” Lessia asked.
“One hundred years after the previous one dies,” Zethras said.
“When did the last Scion of Lux die?” Lessia asked, expecting another specific answer. What happened surprised her.
Zethras stood very still, almost unnaturally so, and a red aura surrounded him as if wreathed in flames. He glanced over his shoulder, and Lessia saw his eyes dim and narrow.
The four Drakonics raised their weapons and Zethras looked at them. He closed his eyes and shook his head, like a bear trying to disperse a swarm of bees. A portal opened beneath his feet and he fell through it, closing it as he passed through.
“Did I say something wrong?” Lessia asked cautiously. The four Drakonics looked at each other.
“Emotions run deep within the Blood Lord,” Conleth said. “He was wed to Grand Paladin Zelwynn, the most recent Scion of Lux.”
“Until she died,” Morgaen said, “killed during a mission just over a year ago, trying to prevent all this from happening.”
“How did…” Lessia began to ask, but Conleth held up a hand to silence her.
“It is not our place to tell you,” he said. “In time, he may tell you himself. But the memory is still too recent, too fresh.”
“Is that what that was?” Lessia asked.
Marak spoke this time. “For as long as we can remember, Zethras has always had two sides. The eternal protector who fights for every life that is and will be is the version of him that everyone knows, either personally or through the legends he leaves scattered through the long winding path of history.” He touched the glowing orange Dragonstone in the centre of his chest plate. “Our bond-mates were still comparatively young when Zethras was born, and he has—according to our ancestral memories—not changed at all since he’s known them.”
“But, like all things, he has a darker side,” Morgaen said, “When painful memories come back to him, if they are powerful enough, he can lose control. We have come to know it as the Blood Fury.”
“You have seen the craters and gorges of the canyon lands to the south, yes?” Conleth asked, to which Lessia responded by nodding, “That was him, last year. I am sure you felt the quakes too.”
As if on cue, another portal appeared, and Zethras reappeared, his features having returned to normal.
“You know, a thought just occurred to me,” he said. “How could you have possibly known that Zelwynn died?”
“Vaelik said his master told him the Scion of Lux would be sent to stop him and reclaim Raizoth,” Lessia said, “and that was his chance to acquire something he called ‘the beacon of hope.’”
“That is impossible,” Zethras whispered to himself, then held out a hand to Lessia. “Come with me.”
Lessia took his hand, and he opened another portal.
“Where are we going?” Lessia asked.
“To see if the impossible has changed.”

About The Author:

From early childhood, Lucas Ryan Maloney's imagination fueled his love of storytelling. From powerful magic to powerful warp drives, black holes to supernovae and heroes battling villains, Lucas could weave tales that kept children and adults alike enthralled. Through his teens, Lucas fulfilled his quota of shenanigans and embraced a digital lifestyle while studying culinary arts. After several years of pursuing an unfulfilling culinary path, a profound event opened his mind to his true calling.

A few years ago, while walking in a forest contemplating his chosen path, Lucas found himself caught in a thunderstorm. As he pondered, a blinding bolt of lightning and ear-piercing crack of thunder split the sky. Startled, Lucas moved to a nearby clearing, sat down and continued his self-reflection. After three more lightning flashes and thunder claps, Lucas closed his eyes and peered deep into his heart, slowly a vision of himself writing in leather-bound writing journals surfaced.

Lucas says he's not sure how long he sat there in his mindful reprieve and that when he opened his eyes and looked up, the clouds parted revealing blue sky. He smiled knowingly, stood up and headed home.

On the way, Lucas stopped at a stationery store and made a purchase, the first of many.

Lucas resides in Southern Ontario, Canada

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Monday, July 06, 2020

Book Blitz The Call of Magic by A. R. C. #UF #PNR #Tarot

The Call of Magic
The Fool’s Journey
Book One
A. R. C.

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Quick and Animus, LLC
Date of Publication: June 20, 2020
ISBN: 9798642452813
Number of pages: 367 pages
Word Count: approx. 103,000

Cover Artist: Sandrine Pierrot

Tagline: Marked by magic. Chosen by Fate. And she couldn’t care less.

Book Description:

The Fool's Journey, a massive new series written in two parts - with blog posts acting counter-point to monthly-published novels - revolves around a cabal of warrior mages, and focuses heavily on the inclusion of Tarot.

Freshly graduated from high school, Emma Lie has never let go the betrayal her father served her. On the eve of her college departure, burdened with grand designs, Emma finds herself branded by a strange mark.

Bewildered by its appearance, Emma becomes distracted, then suspicious, of a captivating boy named Thies. Amid a passionate moment, she demands the truth from him. The cryptic answers Emma gets in return skew her reality forever.

Emma is thrust into the world of magic, stolen away from her home. Lofty intentions derailed, her mother in mortal danger, and forced into magical servitude, Emma must fight for survival and the life she had planned even as she battles for her own heart.

Amazon           Goodreads         Quick and Animus


Haynes’ eye is swelling shut, and Michael is staring up from the floor behind me with mixed shock and rising fear. The last bit catches my attention and confuses me. My vision narrows, black around the edges, heart beating thunder in my ears. I did what I did to help him. Why should Michael be more afraid, now? I try to relax, but my temper has risen. My raw knuckles have done the speaking. My actions pronounced judgment.
Jimmy Haynes is rolling to his feet with practiced athleticism. His cronies have stepped back to the walls of the locker-lined hallway. He is not large, but his movements speak of economy and brutality. He is a bully’s bully, born and bred. There is sweat prickling the scalp under his dark shaved hair, and a stuttered breath issues from his lips as he probes the damage to his eye. In the gray depths of his other, the wheels are turning.
He cannot afford to back away from a fight in front of his pack. Nor is it in his cruel nature, and yet he hesitates. He is a grade younger than me and Michael before we graduated, as are all his little friends. Jocks, bullies. They are animals, drunk with the idea of being seniors, fresh from the football field, and filled with football aggression. And Michael Morton is their target and outlet. Chubby, meek, kind Michael Morton, here to help me finish the Senior art project before I leave for college in a month. Michael makes another series of small whimpering noises behind me, his paint smock half-torn.
“What the fuck?” Haynes booms. His posse chortles and titters from the sidelines. They move and sway with his anger. But I have the truth. He is stalling. He doesn’t want to take this further against me. The crush he has on me has always been obvious, trying to catch my eye for the better part of three years. But he cannot be seen as the star football player who was knocked from his feet by a hundred-fifteen-pound girl. He wouldn’t survive in his world. Torn between two hard choices, I see the decision form, the surety that grasps him. His hand drifts to his side, his clenched fist straightens. He will slap me. For him, to hold a reputation as a woman abuser is easier, more acceptable. Bastard.
“Look at her eyes,” one of Jimmy’s posse whispers along the halogen-white hallways of the school. My irises have no doubt changed, gone a deep gray as they do with my fury.
Michael Morton hasn’t moved, bloodied and sprawled on the floor where they left him. I had stepped over him to punch Jimmy, but now he is an obstacle I cannot navigate in time to dodge. My knuckles hurt still, and the inexplicable, searing pain on my upper right arm remains, but I prepare myself for the blow and tense to give one in return. If Jimmy wants a fight, he’ll have it.

About the Author:


A figure approaches you on this dusty road called life. Indistinct and familiar, unknown but knowing, they are nobody and the every-man. “May I tell you a story?” they ask, wasting no time.

“What kind?” you reply, impatient with interminable day. Fraught with distraction. You’re unsure you want anything new.

“Some, light and airy, still others dour and dread-riddled. Love and death, black dreams and bright hope, man and his fellow, red war and high peace. All can be found here. The cynics, the broken, the strong, and the weak, all woven into one. You need but only listen.”

“Tell me more?” you inquire after minutes of thought.

The storyteller nods. “Though you might not like each tale, inevitably you will find your hero within. Some to hate, and more to admire. It cannot be else. Hide and reveal, warn or conceal, incite or enchant. So falls the nature of storytelling, a reflection of the soul. Only the cruel would change these tales to fit own beliefs.”
“And should I not wish to hear them?”

“No matter that I sing my yarns to a single body or many, they must be told. It is my honor, my duty, my obligation.”

“But who are you?” you demand.

“If I were to speak base truth about myself, I would say that I’m a dreamer. It holds a double meaning. I daydream regularly, oft to diversion. And though my nightly dreams come and go without memory, that which they tell me changes my mood daily.”

“To this point in life, dreaming has never gotten me anywhere.”

The figure leans in, as if sharing a secret with a friend.

“But it will one day.”

The longer the figure speaks and the more that you listen, the more you perceive that you aren’t alone. Others surround you, attend with you, know the words as you do. Love and tears, heartache and fears, it is good to share these worries amongst friends.

For what is existence, but a semi-sweet story?