Friday, July 29, 2016

Spotlight and Giveaway Believing In the Magic by Erica Tucci




Believing In the Magic
Sarah’s Gift
Book Two
Erica Tucci

Genre: Children’s fiction, paranormal, social issues

Publisher: Publish it Write

Date of Publication: July 18, 2016

Word Count: 12,391

Cover Artist: Nada Serafimovic

Book Description:

Sarah is a fifth grader who has psychic abilities - she can see spirits. At school she meets Leila , a fourth grader and finds out that Leila also has psychic abilities. She uses telekinesis to make things happen, but she uses them to get back at kids in school who taunt her. Knowing how it is to be taunted by her peers, Sarah befriends Leila and helps her learn how to use her powers in a good way. In the end, Leila encounters a situation in which her powers “save the day”.



About the Series:

Sarah’s Gift is a series of chapter books for 7-12 year olds about a young girl with psychic abilities, who uses them to harmlessly deal with different life situations. Standing Up for Yourself is about how Sarah deals with a school bully. Believing In the Magic is about how Sarah helps a girl with telekinetic abilities use them in a good way. There will be a book coming out every two months, with several of them being co-authored by youngsters, the third one being one of them.


 “Standing Up for Yourself is a gift that many parents will welcome. It helps parents encourage a child's gift of second sight perception that is all too often written off as ‘just your imagination’. Through the story telling Ms. Tucci provides support for children for their intuitive and psychic gifts. I've noticed how many more children these days are being acknowledged rather than shamed for their capacities to see, hear, and feel those ordinarily non-visible beings that make their appearance known. Both you and your child will thoroughly enjoy this story!” — Dr. Steven Farmer, author of Animal Spirit Guides, Earth Magic, and the Children's Spirit Animal Cards

"I am raving about the second book Believing in the Magic in the Sarah's Book Series by author Erica Tucci. As soon as I started reading the first few pages I couldn't put the book down. As a young child I remember magical moments in my life. I had great intuition and was always helping and healing friends and the creatures that God created. Sarah's story took me back in time to my childhood. Each of us have magical gifts that can be used for the goodness of life just like Sarah...The mindset of positive thinking and using your gifts for the greater good as Sarah brought out helping her friend Leila, are belief systems we all can learn from. In this story the messages are we are our own magic and believe in the power of thought for the greater good...This is a book to read to your children and discuss with them...It's a story of a compassionate friendship with a binding of acceptance in unconditional love."— Cindy Hively, Intuitive Healing Catalyst for Women



Excerpt: Introduction Believing In the Magic

Sarah lay in bed. She had just started reading The Girl with the Silver Eyes by Willo Davis Roberts. Her digital clock on her nightstand read 8:30. Stifling a yawn, she turned the page to keep reading; she was engrossed in the book and finding out more about Katie.
“Just for the fun of it, Katie had shifted the air current then so that the pollen drifted under his nose; when he sneezed, Pastor Grooten had to grab for his sermon pages before they sailed off the lecturn.”
Wow! Sarah thought. To be able to move things by just thinking about it. How does Katie do it? But then she thought about what she was able to do. I can talk to ghosts. I wonder if there are others out there who have psychic abilities. I can’t be the only one! Katie was different, like her, just in a different way. Wouldn’t it be nice to meet someone else who was different. There have to be others like her somewhere. Sarah wished she could meet Katie. They could be best friends!
She delved into the book, reading passage after passage of Katie’s harmless pranks: making her horrible babysitter tremble at the sight of a floating fork and creating a gust of wind that caused a door to slam into her pesky neighbor’s face.
Sarah understood Katie’s predicament. Katie had silver eyes and was odd to people around her. Sarah felt the same way. Most people shied away from her because they thought she was “cursed.”
She was so enamored by the book that she read until her eyes became very heavy. She remembered when she was younger how her dad would say “Your eyes are getting heavy; you are getting sleepy, sleepy, sleepy” when he was trying to put her to sleep. How she missed her dad. She knew that he was okay on the other side since her grandmother who had come to her one day told her so. She wondered if he would come to her directly someday. It would be so nice to see him and talk to him, even if he was in spirit and not on the earthly plane anymore.
Turning off her bed lamp and laying her book on her nightstand, Sarah snuggled under her duvet and fell fast asleep. She had no problem falling asleep; in fact, she would fall into such a deep sleep, she would have the most vivid dreams. And that night was no different.
She was sitting in the back seat of her mom’s car peering out the window. The crow came up to her window and started tapping on it with his beak. He started talking to her telepathically. “Pay attention to the magic in the world,” he chirped. “You can create anything you like through magic. Your thoughts are powerful!”

Sarah woke up the next morning thinking about the dream and how she felt that crow was trying to tell her something, but what? She had to put it out of her mind for now since she had to get ready for school. She would ponder over it when she got home in the afternoon.

About the Author:

Erica Tucci had a full life as a corporate manager of a Fortune 500 company, a healing arts business owner and an author. It all came to a screeching halt in June 2011 when she had a stroke. During her recovery, she gained much wisdom about what’s really important in life. Although she was a Reiki master, massage therapist and life coach as well as a corporate cog, she realized that her passion was her books. Her hope now is that the messages of her books will be an inspiration for others, young and old. Her most recent venture has been her Sarah’s Gift series, chapter books for 7-12 year olds about a young girl with psychic abilities, which speak to the children with special gifts, helping them deal with different life situations. Her other books include Moms and Their Young Spirited Boys (1998), Anything is Possible, a novel based on a true love story (2011), Zesty Womanhood at 40 and Beyond (2011), Radiant Survivor (2013 - Amazon bestseller), and most recently the first book of the Sarah’s Gift series Standing Up for Yourself (2016 - Amazon bestseller). The second book Believing In the Magic will be available for pre-order June 30 and is being released July 18.

For more information, visit








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Thursday, July 28, 2016

Release Day Blitz for Gates of Submission by Nikki DiCaro



Sylvia Hutchison clawed her way to the top of a male-dominated profession.  She made her bones the old fashioned way, in the upright position through hard work and consistent success.  The last act of the retiring chairman was to promote her to chief executive of their largest east coast operation.  By then, Sylvia’s reputation had been shaped and formed by the cut throat environment and the undercutting and backstabbing endemic of investment banking.  

Sylvia was shrewd having taken classes in dressing for success and thinking for power.  The lethal combination of beauty, brains and cunning toppled more than one supervisor whose naiveté led him to deadly overconfidence.

Sylvia recognized talent both as an asset and a potential threat to her perch.  She learned how to get the most out of people, winning their respect and trust before subordinating their will to hers.  She was driven by earnings potential and understood the business better than her mentors.  And she read the political landscape like a gambler read the table.  She never stood on ceremony.  Her Ivy League pedigree taught her the golden ruled about money and power.  She craved both and refused to be denied.  Working her way up the professional ladder she was mistakenly viewed as a young and supple flower ready to be plucked. 

She had an affinity for Russell Radcliffe.  She had worked with him on several deals.  His depth of knowledge of facts made him one of her favorites.  That’s when she realized he could be a key to her continued success. 

Sylvia’s innate ability to read people told her there was something different about him.  After her assent to the corner office she set up private dinners with each member of her senior staff; encouraging them to bring a wife of significant other.  This would give her the opportunity to tunnel below her employee’s professional façade and learn every quirk, nuance and character flaw.

Amanda Radcliffe, Russell’s wife, mistook Sylvia’s unvarnished praise of her husband as the pathway to the dreams of avarice.  The two women talked when Russell excused himself to use the restroom.  Mandy revealed her husband’s doting ways; a stark contrast to his crisp buttoned down office demeanor.  Sylvia correctly interpreted this as desire to be subordinate, which she exploited slowly and methodically until Russell was sinking quickly into Sylvia’s quicksand of domination.

For every slip towards oblivion there is a toehold or ledge to retard the slide.  When Russell finally realized he was doomed to be Sylvia’s submissive at first he allowed himself to fantasize, fueling his desire to please.  When Sylvia took her role as dominatrix too far Russell gathered the last vestiges of self-respect and dignity to being the slow and arduous climb from the dank darkness of Sylvia’s emotional dungeon.

Gates of Submission
New Boundaries
Book One
Nikki DiCaro

Genre: LGBT Fiction

Publisher: Can’t Put It Down Books

Date of Publication: July 28, 2016

ISBN: 978-0-9972024-3-4
ASIN: B01HH7JSUG

Number of pages: 315
Word Count: 103,216

Cover Artist: Genevieve Lavo Cosdon

Book Description:

Russell has lost everything; his wife Mandy, his children and his suburban mini-mansion. Left with only the tatters of a once successful life, he discovers the courage to venture beyond the boundaries of conventionality. Stripping off his male exterior, Allison makes her debut, bringing a ray of hope that life might offer more than pain and confusion. His boss, Sylvia, a dominant and beautiful sexual powerhouse, has other ideas after discovering his deepest secret. As Sylvia’s hold on Russell tightens he is torn between shame and desire. Can he break free from Sylvia’s grasp? Will he choose to be: Russell or Allison?

Excerpt:

DIVORCE. THE WORD RATTLED around in his brain like a steel ball in an old-fashioned pinball machine. The papers had arrived at his office that morning by courier; he was officially divorced. Russell Radcliffe pulled his cherry-red Mercedes Benz convertible into the garage of his modest rancher and slid the transmission lever into park. Stung by the events of the day, he sat quietly, struggling with the dramatic change in his lifestyle. The five thousand square foot McMansion, the pool with elaborate cabana complete with wet bar and massage table, the Mercedes and the Range Rover, the country club membership, the well-earned upscale lifestyle—gone. The dream life with his children and the woman he promised to love for better or for worse were now a memory.
When days were rosy and nights sultry, the couple fell for the trappings of opulence. To support their lifestyle Russell and his wife mortgaged themselves right to the edge, not close enough that a fall from grace was eminent, but close enough that Russell could feel the spray from the waves pounding on the financial rocks below. The last brick in the wall crumbled; the mansion—her dream home—had a for sale sign with a picture of a 40-something big-haired, big nailed, real estate goddess in the front yard. The real estate market had softened putting a large portion of their nest egg in harm’s way. His wife got to remain in the house with the two teenagers, forcing him to relocate. She wanted everything before she would cede his car to him. He wanted that car; he needed that car. He equated the car with his identity even more than the house.
Russell replayed those last days of their marriage. In one fell swoop, Mandy revealed she was having an affair and had the divorce papers served to his office the next day. Not only was he not getting any, an interloper had been planting in his garden. He told Mandy that he was willing to forgive her, that she would regret leaving him, that she couldn’t stand on her own two feet.
***
“Come to your senses Mandy. Quit this foolishness and think it through.”
She had laughed. “Do you think I haven’t thought this through? Do you think I’m doing this because I want to get your attention?”
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me. I just want you to stop. Adultery is against the law.” His voice was strained; he wanted desperately to get through to her. His wife stood arms akimbo, her long sleek legs ran from her blue skirt, through nude pantyhose, and slid perfectly into navy blue patent leather pumps. She was attractive, even after two hard pregnancies. Her auburn hair wafted in sultry waves across her soft shoulders ending elegantly just short of the middle of her back. Large hazel eyes were framed by high cheekbones, thin nose and highly sculptured eyebrows. Her complexion hinted at regular trips to the tanning salon.
“When you started wearing my clothes I knew it was over. You were the one who turned our marriage into a farce, not me. ” Her tone was accusatory. “And don’t think threats will work with me, kiddo. I can ruin you if you put me in that position.” Her gaze was cold steel.
Russell looked her over; he would have begged her to stay if his pride wasn’t so strong. He loved her; she was his female role model; everything he wanted to be in a woman he saw in his wife. But he couldn’t condone her desire to find pleasure in another’s bed. Looking away he calculated his options; they were bleak. Losing his job wasn’t an option. He had worked long and hard to parlay the master’s degree in finance into a high profile position with an investment banking firm. He figured he would be summarily dismissed if his superiors knew he was transgender.
After the divorce he licked his wounds and decided to buy down-market. The shock of a smaller place on a postage stamp lot made him wish he hadn't been so critical when his wife unceremoniously disclosed her extramarital affair. He lost that struggle and was losing others. He would never give up his femininity even though it had meant losing his wife, who realized she wasn’t the only woman in his life. This had cut her deeply and she had made him bleed.

As he sat in the car with the engine running he considered pressing the activator button to bring the garage door down and seal off the garage. Just one click and he would fade slowly into eternal sleep.


About the Author:

Nikki DiCaro has been writing novels, inspirational essays and poetry for over ten years. Her novels focus on complex characters whose real-life problems touch on the issues of the day—from workplace harassment to divorce to transgender/LGBT issues. Gates of Submission is the first novel in her five-book series, “New Boundaries.” Its spicy plot twists will keep you on the edge of your seat.

When not creating fascinating characters and sensual scenes, Nikki writes inspirational essays which she posts regularly on her website, www.NikkiDiCaro.com.   A proponent of parity, equality, and unconditional acceptance she is a frequent speaker and presenter on gender sensitivity and workplace equality.


Playlist - The After Effect by Rose Shababy- Giveaway and Sale



Part of sitting down to write means setting the right mood, and an awesome playlist can help with that. 

We met Blue Brennan, Kasey Korsak and the others in The Blue Effect, but that story really belonged to Blue. In The After Effect, we get to dive into Kasey’s mind. He finds himself haunted by his memories, and worse, his past rears its ugly head, proving that the past is never really the past. Kasey himself has changed, and often feels like he’s fighting himself, struggling to be the hero he wants to be, and trying to hold off a darker Kasey who’s trying to take over. 

The playlist I created for this book has a lot of songs that touch on those issues, as well as a little nod to the strength of his love for Blue (Butterfly) and the loving family he lost (Beautiful Boy). 

So, without further ado, here is The After Effect playlist for your listening pleasure:



The After Effect
Renegade Heroes Series
Book Two
Rose Shababy

Genre: Urban Fantasy/Sci-fi

Publisher: Super Sheroes LLC

Date of Publication: July 19th, 2016

ISBN: 978-0-9904620-3-3
ASIN: B01GSMOAE0

Number of pages: 228 approx.
Word Count: 72,757

Cover Artist: Regina Wamba

Maximum Ride meets Sin City in the Renegade Heroes series!

Kasey and his friends are fringe heroes. They use their abilities to protect society, until their last battle leaves Kasey almost dead. Disillusioned, they leave the city in search of peace.

But peace is the last thing they’ll find. Ever since Kasey escaped the cold fingers of death, his powers have been running wild. It doesn’t take long for his girlfriend, Blue, and the others to notice.

In the lush forests of northern Idaho they meet a brand new hero whose shocking revelation sheds new light on Kasey’s strange behavior.

And with her revelation comes a terrible solution none of them can accept.

Worse still, Kasey soon comes face to face with the nightmares of his past.

Will the heroes find the strength to face the consequences of their mistakes? Or will Kasey be forced to make the ultimate sacrifice?

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The Blue Effect
Renegade Heroes
Book One
Rose Shababy
                       
Blue Brennan is jaded and bitter despite her pinup girl looks and quick wit. Night after night, she scours the Seattle club scene looking for someone or something to fill the emptiness inside.

When she meets the mysterious Kasey, her world stops… literally. He claims she has the ability to control time and stuns her even further when he reveals his own gifts.
Blue is inexplicably drawn to Kasey and reluctantly enters his world filled with a new breed of humanity. They’re misfits like her, blessed or cursed with powerful abilities, struggling to hide their differences from the rest of society.

Then the group discovers a nameless, faceless sociopath with nightmarish powers; and he’s coming for Blue. She’s left reeling when they discover her gifts are the key to defeating his terrible evil and saving them all.


Now she must race against the clock to harness her own powers and save her new friends. Can she be more than a renegade? Can she be a hero too?



Excerpt:

After the events of the morning, everyone seemed to need some private time, especially Blue. She went to our room and crawled back into bed, claiming to still be tired from the night before. Esme and Avery retreated outside, while Val and Ash went to town to go bowling with the couple they met the night before.
I sat by myself in the living room, remote in hand and flipping mindlessly through channels. With no one in close vicinity, I didn’t have to work to block out random thoughts and impressions. I stretched out on the couch and let myself relax completely, a rarity for me. No walls in my mind, no struggle for control, no confusion as I tried to sort out all the voices.
I came across the movie Casablanca as I scrolled through channels, and stopped. Something about the movie spoke to me, reminded me of me and Blue. I wondered if it was the depth of Rick and Ilsa’s love for each other that mirrored mine and Blue’s.
Maybe it’s the hopelessness of it, the voice inside me mocked. She has to give him up to do the right thing, and he has to push her to do it. Just as you’ll have to push Blue. There’s nothing you can do to change it. At least she’ll have Avery to comfort her after you’re gone.
Once again, the foreign anger inside me growled to life.
In defiance I pushed the channel up button on the remote, flipping through channels until I found one playing music videos and a close up of a woman’s face filled the screen.
Zelda, I thought as I studied her features. Despite Blue’s denial, I could still see a resemblance between the two of them. Zelda wore heavy makeup so it was hard to tell, and she seemed taller, leaner, and had longer features, but the similarities were there.
Her brow wrinkled as she sang, and the sadness in her eyes seemed to seep through the screen.
Stuck inside a life of maybe
Finding bliss in erratic shifts
I watch you avoiding me
Sin-free and quietly

Keep your hands clean
Keep your mind free
Never touch me
Forget to love me

We can be pure
so we can be godly
We can be meek
so we can be lonely

Open your eyes
Free from the guise
No longer hypnotized
Breaking out

Searching for a beautiful life
Somebody else’s life
Can I start over this life?
Breaking out

Something about her singing made me uneasy as I stared at her. The song was a kind of ballad, but still possessed an edge, an undeniable hardness. The mournful expression of earlier now seemed like a persona, fake sorrow. I turned the television off and laid back, closing my eyes, trying to quell the uneasiness.
I pushed the song from my mind, thinking about the events of the previous night, as well as this morning. I wondered if Rayne’s solution was truly the only way to fix things, but it was the image of Blue’s tear-stained face that haunted me as I fell asleep.
***
Home, I realized. I was home. I looked around the small room as I pulled the nightshirt in my hands over my head. The water closet, the old bed with the rusted frame, the bare wooden floor slats. I looked down at my hands and realized they were those of a child.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out from the other room, and I dropped to the floor behind the bed as angry voices barked orders through the wall.
The door burst open and I scurried under the bed as a man dressed in camouflage and carrying a rifle marched in, dragging my sister Zoya by her hair. She screamed and I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming as well.
My father rushed into the room, yelling at the man until another soldier came up from behind and struck him on the back of the head with the butt of his own rifle.
Zoya screamed as our father crumpled to the ground, blood gushing from the wound at the back of his head. From under the bed, I watched it pool beneath him before one of the soldier’s dragged him from the room, the blood streaking across the floor in a gruesome smear. The first soldier shut the door behind him.
I watched as Zoya twisted herself around the soldier’s leg, biting him hard on the calf. The man backhanded her with a force that knocked her to the floor.
She lay still for a moment, facing the bed, until her eyes landed on me. Her voice filled my mind. Do not move, brother. Do not make a sound.
The soldier heaved her off the floor and threw her on the bed. The bedsprings flexed above me, and I flattened myself against the wooden slats of the floor to avoid being crushed.
The sound of Zoya crying filled my ears, and I squeezed my eyes shut as if I doing so could block out the noise. A wave of nausea hit me and suddenly, I found myself staring up at the soldier as he ripped the clothes off my body. In the same moment, I realized I was also staring down at Zoya as I shredded her clothes with strong, unfamiliar hands. 
I felt the screams tearing out of my throat as mad panic overwhelmed my senses, barely able to separate the image of the soldier above me and Zoya below.
A second later, the maniacal glee of the soldier ripped through me, and I couldn’t hold back my screams any longer.
I screamed until my throat was hoarse, until the screams turned to great heaving sobs. Only then did I hear the voice calling my name.
“Kasimir,” the voice soothed. “Shh. Open your eyes, little one.”
Peeking through my eyelids, I saw Zoya’s face peering at me under the bed. She reached out a hand.
“Come, little one, you are safe.”
“But you’re dead,” I breathed as I put my hand in hers and she helped me from under the bed. I looked around in wonder.
The walls had fallen away, and the bedroom sat in the middle of a clearing, a lush forest surrounding it on all sides as the sun shone down on us.
I looked at our joined hands and realized the hand that held hers belonged to an adult. The childish persona I had adopted in the dream had disappeared.
“That’s right,” I said aloud. “This is a dream.”
“Are you certain?” Zoya asked with a smile. “Just because you are not awake does not mean you are dreaming. I have been trying to communicate with you for a long time, but it was not until you understood what was happening that I was able to break through.”
“If this isn’t a dream, then what is it?”
“You are between,” she said. 
“Between what?”
“Between spaces. Between worlds.” She pointed toward the woods. “Look, there. Do you see it?”
I stared in the direction she pointed, and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the woods, I began to see a black void deep in the trees. At first I thought it was just the darkness of the woods itself, but after a moment I could see the outline of the void. The edges writhed and seethed as if alive, and the entire void blurred and shimmered like a puddle of oil.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It is the other side.” She lifted her hand again, this time pointing in the opposite direction. “And there. That is the world you know.”
I looked, this time shocked to see a ghost image of me sleeping on the couch projected against the trees.
Zoya continued, pointed at the ground beneath us. “This space is the crack between worlds. This is what you created when you died and went back. This is you.”
I nodded. “I understand. I just don’t know how to fix it.”
Zoya gave me a sad smile. “Yes, you do. Look again,” she said as she pointed back to the void.
I looked again, and suddenly I could see long, tentacle-like strands from the void snaking across the clearing, their thin fingers wrapped around me.
I cried out and tried to shake them off, but they moved and slid over my skin like oily, black mercury.
 “Just as you are attached to the world you know, you are now attached to the other side,” Zoya told me. “As long as you are attached to both worlds, they will continue to merge.”
“What will happen if the worlds merge?” I asked.
Her smiled disappeared. “Ultimate chaos. Both worlds will be lost.” Her voice took on a tone of urgency. “You must seal the rift before it is too late. If you do not, everything you love will be destroyed.”
I thought of Blue and realized that if I had to die, I couldn’t think of a better reason.
I looked at Zoya. “How do I fix it?”
 “You must go back. The pieces of that world you see attached to you will follow you back in, and the rift will seal itself.”
“Is there any way I can seal it and stay with Blue?” I asked.
Zoya frowned. “As long as you are attached to the other side, you cannot stay with her.”
“She won’t let go easily,” I told her.
“No,” my sister agreed. “She loves you as deeply as any person has ever loved another. I am glad you found such a love, little one, even if only for a short while.”
I stared at her, as if realizing for the first time who I was talking to, and I reached for her hand again. “I wish you could meet her. I miss you, sister.”
She pulled me into an embrace. “I have been with you since the rift was opened,” she whispered against my ear. “Fighting to protect you. I will stay with you as long as I can.”
I pulled away and looked at her worried face. “What do you mean?”
She glanced toward the void. “There are others who are not so benevolent. I fight them as much as I can, but I cannot fight them all. Your mind is too open. The barriers are down, and the others are trying to use you to gain access to the other side. If they overwhelm you, you will be lost forever and the side you know, her world,” she said pointedly, and I knew she meant Blue, “will be lost along with you.”
I nodded, tears filling my eyes as I looked at my sister. “Is it terrible, Zoya? The other side?”
“No,” she smiled. “Those of the light, stay within the light, and those of the dark, stay within the dark. I existed in place of pure joy. The two sides have begun to merge only since the rift was created. If you repair it, all will be as it was.” 
Zoya glanced at the void again, before looking back at me with fearful eyes. “It is time for you to wake up, little one, but before I go, one last warning. The past may be gone, but it is not dead. Very soon you will come face to face with your nightmares.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
The void emitted a strange mix of moaning and hissing, and Zoya’s frantic eyes darted to the abyss. “No time,” she whispered. “Wake up!”
***
I gasped for air as I woke, rolling off the couch in my panic. I hit the floor with a heavy thud.
As my breathing calmed, I replayed the dream in my mind. Not a dream, I reminded myself. It may have started out just like my nightmares, but it definitely hadn’t ended like one.
I warmed as I thought of Zoya. Ever since I lost my family, I’d tried to put it in the past and forget what happened. I’d told myself to look to the future and focus on becoming the person I wanted to be.
Now I realized the past stayed with us no matter how much we tried to ignore it. By trying to ignore it, I had dishonored the memory of my family. I had dishonored Zoya.
“I will do better,” I said aloud. “I promise you, Zoya, I will make things right.”



About the Author:

Rose Shababy and her family reside in eastern Washington State. Rose grew up in the Northwest but swears she’s going to move to warmer climates someday. She’s claimed this for over 20 years, however, and has yet to move more than 75 miles away from her mother.

Rose has a deep love of all things Star Trek and yearns to travel the heavens, as well as an intense desire to be bitten by a radioactive spider. Unfortunately she sucks at science and math so she hasn’t been able bring her dreams to life, instead living vicariously through books, comics, television and film. She hopes to someday make a million dollars so she can afford to buy her way to the international space station, but she’d settle for being able to fly around the world and leap tall buildings in a single bound.

Rose also loves to cook and worked for years in a gourmet Italian grocery and deli where she learned to hone her skills. She prepares culinary masterpieces for her family, but fervently wishes the dishes would wash themselves. Especially now that her dishwashers/children are nearly grown and only one still lives at home.

Rose likes to use her free time wisely. For instance, she likes to daydream, will often read for hours until she falls asleep on the couch with an electric blanket and a warm tabby cat curled up on her hip, as well as spending cozy weekend days watching Syfy movies like Sharknado and Mega Piranha with her husband.

If Rose were a cartoon animal, she’d prefer to be a wise old owl or a sleek and sexy jaguar, but in reality she’d probably be a myopic mole with coke-bottle glasses.







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Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Grandma Abner’s Apocalypse Bread - Release Day Blitz Remedy by Anna Abner




Grandma Abner’s Apocalypse Bread

Pretend it’s the zombie apocalypse and you have only enough electricity in the generator to power the oven. The fresh milk and eggs have been substituted for dehydrated powder.

Ingredients

2 tablespoons yeast
2/3 cup dry milk with 2 cups water (or the equivalent to 2 cups milk)
4 tablespoons egg crystals with 6 tablespoons water (or the equivalent to 2 eggs)
½ cup warm water
8 tablespoons shortening
7 cups flour
6 tablespoons white sugar
2 teaspoons salt


Directions

Step One: Mix wet ingredients in a bowl with a spoon. Add shortening.



Step Two: Slowly add flour and dry ingredients. Mix well.

Step Three: Knead dough by hand until mixed and soft. Sprinkle extra flour on hands and counter as you knead.

Step Four: Raise the dough in a bowl (covered with a cloth) at room temperature for one hour.

Step Five: Grease inside of 13x9 glass baking dish with shortening.

Step Six: Knead dough again by hand until soft.

Step Seven: Separate dough into about 16 balls and roll smooth by hand, arranging them in greased dish.

Step Eight: Raise the dough in the dish (covered with a cloth) for another hour at room temperature.

Step Nine: Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes.



Can be eaten warm or cold. Wrap them up and stuff them into your backpack before you set out on the open road to find other survivors.

**When I was writing the Red Plague Series I wanted the survivors to make a food item that was both a little unusual but also reminiscent of home. This is a family recipe that can be found in a 1977 church cookbook of recipes handed down for generations.



Remedy
A Red Plague Novella
Red Plague Series 4
Anna Abner

Genre: YA Dystopian

Publisher: Mild Red Books

Date of Publication:  July 26, 2016

ASIN: B01FOKFCTO

Number of pages: 175
Word Count: 45,000

Book Description:

The red plague has devastated the human race, turning billions of people into zombies with red eyes and an insatiable hunger for human flesh.

Seventeen-year-old Callie Crawford is used to fighting. She was an all-star wrestler in high school, and since 212R destroyed her world, she hasn’t stopped fighting. When her high school boyfriend Levi caught the virus, Callie saved him by keeping him chained in a rural North Carolina barn, waiting for something to change.

Before 212R, Roman Duran was a computer nerd, but since the virus, he’s become a guard in the survivor enclave in Washington, DC. After volunteering for a rescue mission, Roman has been belittled, robbed, and left for dead. He hasn’t saved a single person.

Until he stumbles across Callie. Because she has a zombie on a short leash, and Roman is carrying a syringe full of zombie cure.

Callie and Roman will face soulless survivors and rabid zombies on their journey to save a single infected. Along the way, Callie will have to choose between her past and a whole new future.


Excerpt:

Roman Duran ran a step behind Jared and saw the moment the other man faltered on his wounded leg, careening into a chain link fence. Without missing a step, he ducked under Jared’s arm and forced him forward. The pack of infecteds was only two or, at the most, three blocks behind.
“Here,” Pollard Datsik, the third member of their trio, hissed, slipping around a block wall and sprinting up a set of exterior stairs to an apartment above a liquor store. Roman dragged Jared behind him.
While Roman helped Jared to a sagging sofa, Pollard shut the door with a quiet click and peered through the window, his breath a puff in the silence.
“Are they following?” Roman whispered. “Are they swarming the stairs?”
Pollard stretched his neck to see further, and then soft-stepped to the next window and stared at the street below.
“I’m fine,” Jared murmured unnecessarily. “I tripped. It won’t happen again.” He shoved Roman away. “I just need a couple minutes.”
Roman didn’t buy it. The injury in question was a jagged slash above Jared’s knee he’d earned climbing a fence the night before. Though they’d stopped running long enough to wrap it, Jared wasn’t as energetic as he’d been before the wound.
Separating from Jared, Roman peered through a broken windowpane, blinking away the exhaustion that had dogged him for the past couple of days. Without enjoyment, he chewed one of their last handfuls of goldfish crackers, the food dry and pasty in his mouth. Water was about to become a serious issue.
“I’m so thirsty,” he complained in a whisper. “And dirty.” What he wouldn’t do for a clean, clear stream of fresh water.
Roman glanced at his companions, noting their equally stained and stinking uniforms. Maybe volunteering to leave Washington, DC had been a crappy decision all around. Maybe the veep should have sent older, more experienced survivors on her search and rescue mission. Maybe his eighteen years on the earth weren’t enough for this kind of mission.
A pack of infecteds had caught their scent in Raleigh and hadn’t let go. Forty-eight hours without sleep or rest. Two days of running, of hiding, of trying to lose the predators. And now, they were out of food and water.
“What if we climb on the roof?” Roman whispered. “We could wait them out.”
Pollard took the bag of crackers from him and crammed a handful into his mouth.
“We’re out of water,” Jared reminded them. “What if they trap us for days? No.” He shook his head at the room’s closed door. “We could end up a lot worse than we are now. I say we keep running.”
“Forever?” Pollard scoffed. “There has to be a point where we say we can’t continue like this. A point where we circle around the pack and head home.”
Roman wouldn’t call Washington, DC home. But then he’d never called anywhere home. An orphan kicked into the system after his mother abandoned him, none of the dozen foster and group homes he’d lived in had ever been his home. And DC was no different. It was a way station to somewhere else, no matter whether he had an apartment or a job or a purpose. It still wasn’t home.
Roman had yet to find his real home.
Swallowing dry crackers, Roman double-checked the number of rounds for his M-16. When they’d left the safety of DC’s walls, they each carried forty rounds for their personal firearms. It had sounded like a lot at the time, but he was down to nineteen rounds. The other two men had less.
For an entire day, Jared had fired warning shots at their pursuers—a mistake, Roman realized now—but the only result had been bringing even more infecteds into the pack, as nearby stragglers were attracted by the noise.
His ears perking up, Roman rushed to the far window and scanned for movement. Was he crazy, or did he hear a car engine?
Roman had left DC wanting to help people, both infecteds and survivors. After running into people, one worse than the last, his companions were nearly to the point of abandoning the mission. But Roman hadn’t given up. Even though they hadn’t helped a single person.
Between two rooftops, he caught a glimpse of a fast-moving white Range Rover driving in a westerly direction. A part of him wanted to catch up to the driver, but another part of him, a starving and sleep deprived part, wanted the vehicle to pass them by and disappear.
The sound of the Range Rover’s engine quieted as it drove out of sight.
“Let’s try the distraction method again,” Roman suggested. The last time they’d thrown empty cans near the zombies, they’d been curious enough for Roman and the other two men to escape. “It worked before.”
Their rescue mission to Myrtle Beach could still be salvaged once they shook this pack. Unhindered by the starving horde of infecteds, the three men could scavenge for food and water, sleep safely in shifts, and cover ground at an easy pace. This running for their lives, though, couldn’t go on forever. Without water and more substantial food than goldfish crackers, he wasn’t going to survive much longer.
“I’ll open fire,” Pollard said, as if Roman hadn’t spoken, “and you two run for the cell tower at the end of the street. I’ll meet you there.”
“Good plan,” Jared said, “except you’re a horrible shot. I’ll do the shooting, thanks.” He stood, trying to hide a wince of pain and failing.
Pollard clenched his jaw at the insult. “Fine.” He grabbed Roman by the sleeve and dragged him toward the door.
“You sure about this?” Roman asked, still thinking his idea would work better than wasting more bullets and hoping to find each other under a tower.
“Just run fast,” Pollard said.



About the Author:

Anna Abner lived in a haunted house for three years and grew up talking to imaginary friends. In her professional life, she has been a Realtor, a childcare provider, and a teacher. Now, she writes edge-of-your-seat paranormal romances and blogs from her home in sunny Southern California about ghosts and magic. You can connect with her online at AnnaAbner.com.







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