Friday, June 01, 2012

Music Sets the Mood Guest blog by Debbie Peterson

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The Silence of Lir RDB


Getting Off the Couch

My favorite pair of shoes are my Adidas Sambas. They’ve come out with countless variations, but the perfection of the classic footwear can’t be stressed enough. Each pair that I purchase is worn for years until the rubber is so eroded that there are literally holes in the bottom of my shoes (yes, I drag my feet occasionally when I walk).
Much of life is about comfort. It’s a bumpy ride, so why shouldn’t we make every effort to be relaxed? Wait until rush hour is over, buy the cake instead of making it, forego exercise for television, watch the movie instead of reading the book. Before we know it, we’re in a cozy little rut, and we have no idea how we got there.
Some things are good to go easy on. Others present a problem that may take some real effort to solve. My fear is that we get too cozy on our couches. Perhaps we wait too long to stand up and go after what’s truly important to us. Worry and the long list of things that could go wrong build up until we lose sight of our dreams. We turn in the runner’s baton for the remote, the race for the bed.
Saga of the Spheres was my way to challenge myself. Almost anyone can start a book, but am I a finisher? And when I complete a project, my habit is to downplay it, even hide it from others, for fear of criticism. Could I open my mouth and announce to the world that I completed something I enjoyed – dare I say, am proud of?
Then, it dawned on me – people criticize Shakespeare. Shakespeare! I don’t know who these people are, but they exist. And I’ve yet to meet one that I’ve left standing, but there are those who are not fans of J.K. Rowling! Can you believe the state of the world?
Upon the completion of yet another round of editing out the kinks in the Saga, I began to think of the fears I would have to face in order to do justice to the hard work I put in to the series. I would have to (gasp) tell people that I wrote four books. Yep. Sometimes the first step is the hardest.
Next, I would have to (gulp) ask for help. Actually, the second step is the hardest. I pride myself on having a long history of not asking for much help. That pride kept me nice and warm for years until, surprisingly, I found one of my toes dead from frostbite. I’ve learned to ask for blankets instead of clinging to my wholly blanket called self-sufficiency. And, it turns out, it won’t kill you. I never realized such a miracle could happen. I could ask for marketing advice, help building a website, a book trailer, people to pass out flyers, happy retweeters, and more, and no one died. Fantastic.
Another lesser known fear I have is one of public speaking. For anyone who has met me, they will no doubt think this is a joke. I have a decent acting resume, and am in general a fairly talkative person. Being a character onstage is entirely different from being yourself. Having a conversation is not the same as delivering a monologue in which people stare at you, daring you to say something interesting. But, this is the new Mary, and she will not be afraid any longer. So I called up my old favorite English teacher, who shockingly, remembered me, and booked two speaking engagements to talk to his students about writing. Again, I did not faint, throw up, accidentally curse or besmirch the good name of writers.
Saga of the Spheres was the vehicle that brought me to a new appreciation of really putting yourself out there. I learned to write a mythology, market my behind off, ask for help, and engage in public speaking. I can only hope that when your vehicle comes along, you have the courage to throw on your Adidas and fling yourself onto the wagon, no matter how rough the terrain ahead might be. Remember, your friends and family will be there to catch you if you should fall. And if anyone points out the mud on your shoe, give them a friendly little kick to the curb and get back on the wagon. He’ll be in your rearview soon enough.
People will cheer and boo – such is the state of things. However, if you spend your life not moving for fear of making too awkward a splash, you’ll find yourself drowning just so you are not thought a fool. Don’t be that fool.

Mary E. Twomey





RDB June 1

Books, Books, and More Books

The Bunnys Review – 

The Book Connoisseur – 

Book Bloggers Collaborative – 

Nilsa's Book Blog

Fang-tastic Books

Creatively Green Write at Home Mom

Roxanne’s Realm


Week long tour

June 3 Promo/Excerpt
Butterfly-o-Meter Books

June 4 Promo Excerpt
Book Nerd Revealed

June 4 Interview
A Dream Within A Dream

June 5 Interview
The Bunnys Review – 

June 7 Guest Blog
Simply Infatuated

June 7 Promo
My Guilty Obsession


June 8 Interview and review
Book Reviews, Fiction Reflections, N' More

June 8 Review
Books, Books, and More Books


The Silence of Lir
By Mary Twomey

Book 1
Genre: young adult fantasy fiction


Available as a free download on Amazon June 1-5

Behind the scenes of our spinning earth are keepers of the elements who make sure that tornados don’t destroy cities, fires don’t ravage forests, earthquakes don’t decimate towns, and floods don’t take out humanity. They wrestle with the natural elements to ensure that the world keeps spinning smoothly on its axis. 

Since the beginning of time, the Sun has been fading, and the light that shines on the earth is dimming, causing the elements to be more volatile and impossible for the keepers to control. 

Now they must enlist the help of one man, Finn, to help them bring the light back to the Sun. The keepers war, the North Star steals light from the Sun, and the Moon is in disrepute. The end of existence is coming, and all the while the king, the Moon, Lir, remains silent.



About the Author:

Mary E. Twomey lives in Michigan with her husband and two adorable children. She enjoys reading, writing, vegetarian cooking and telling her children fantastic stories about wombats.

http://www.facebook.com/#!/SagaOfTheSpheres 

Twitter @shesleepssoftly

website www.SagaOfTheSpheres.com



Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Excerpt of Rogue's Pawn by Jeffe Kennedy




Rogue’s Pawn 
by Jeffe Kennedy


Covenant of Thorns Series 
978-14268-9406-0
Carina Press

July 16, 2012

This is no fairy tale… 

Haunted by nightmares of a black dog, sick to death of my mind-numbing career and heart-numbing fiancĂ©, I impulsively walked out of my life—and fell into Faerie. Terrified, fascinated, I discover I possess a power I can’t control: my wishes come true. After an all-too-real attack by the animal from my dreams, I wake to find myself the captive of the seductive and ruthless fae lord Rogue. In return for my rescue, he demands an extravagant price—my firstborn child, which he intends to sire himself…

With no hope of escaping this world, I must learn to harness my magic and build a new life despite the perils—including my own inexplicable and debilitating desire for Rogue. I swear I will never submit to his demands, no matter what erotic torment he subjects me to…


AmazonBarnes and Noble


Rogue's Pawn Excerpt

“Enough,” a male voice said.

As if I’d ceased to exist, Tinker Bell blinked her eyes and regained her lovely self, face smoothing, shining once again in sunny elegance. Reboot and resume program. She gracefully stood and glided to the tray, set the bowl precisely in the center, lifted the tray and left the room without hesitation.

Booted footsteps crossed the room toward me. Act II, scene ii. Exit Nasty Tinker Bell, Enter God-Only-Knows-What-Now. My face was sticky with whatever the brothy stuff had been, my hair wet and fouled. I stank. I hurt. I was chained to a bed in a place so completely unknown I couldn’t begin to understand it. I tried to squeeze my legs closer together, but the chains seemed at the limit of their reach. The energy of my brief triumph evaporated, allowing tears to well up again.

Oh, please, please, please, do not cry. The threatening sting worsened. I closed my eyes and one tear leaked out. He stopped next to me, surveying me.

“You’re certainly a mess.” His wry voice was rich and smooth.

My eyes snapped open to glare at him through the blur. Fifty different smart remarks flew across my tongue, most along the lines that any failures of appearance on my part could be laid on the doorstep of someone besides myself. But even the buzz of the first word on my vocal chords brought searing agony. Relieved to have a legitimate reason for the tears, I almost welcomed the searing sensation.

“No, don’t try to talk—no one needs to hear what you have to say, anyway. Not that we can help it, since you think so loudly. And you have a decision to make. We have a quandary.” He began pacing, boots echoing against stone. “No one can heal you while you’re bound in silver and we can’t release you from the silver until you have yourself under control. Which will take a considerably long time—perhaps years of training—if you’re even able to accomplish it at all.”

I thought of the birds crashing in increasing cacophony with a small shudder.

“Exactly,” he confirmed. “And yes,” he said from the window behind my head where he seemed to be gazing out, “I can hear most of your thoughts—another reason to save trying to speak aloud.”

My stomach congealed in panic. Had he heard my secret thoughts? Don’t think of them, bury them deep, deep. Think of other things…like what? Think of home, think of Isabel. Isabel, my cat—Clive hated her. What would happen to her now? How could I not have thought of her until this moment? Abandoned, wondering why I never came home for her… And my mother—she’d be frantic. How long had I been gone? They could be all dead and buried, lost to me forever. The anguish racked me.

“Shh.” The man sat on the side of my bed now, heavier than Nasty Tinker Bell. He brushed the hair back from my forehead, then placed his long fingers over my brow and, with his thumbs, rhythmically smoothed along my cheekbones, wiping away the tears that now flowed freely.

I stifled a sob. I had cried more in the past day than I had in years. The sweeping along my cheekbones soothed me, melting warmth through my skull. The rhythm became part of my breathing. Deep breaths. Smooth, easy. The awful tightness in my chest gave a little sigh and released.

“Let’s try again, shall we?” The man pulled his hands away. I could hear him brush them against his thighs. Soup, tears and blood. Yuck.

My eyes cleared enough for me to see him. Ebony-blue climbed over half his face. The winding pattern of angular spirals and toothy spikes swirled out of his black hair on the left side of his face, placing sharp fingers along his cheekbone, jaw and brow. For a moment, the tattoo-like pattern dominated everything about him. Ferocious and alien.

Once I adjusted, I could see past the lines. His face echoed Tinker Bell’s golden coloring. He could be her fraternal twin, with those same arched cheekbones. But where she was golden dawn, he was darkest night. Midnight-blue eyes, that deep blue just before all light was gone from the sky, when the stars have emerged, but you could see the black shadows of trees against the night. He shared Tinker Bell’s rose-petal mouth, but with a curious edge to it. I suppose a man’s mouth shouldn’t remind one of a flower, and there was nothing feminine about this man. Where she wore the pink sugar roses of debutantes and bridal showers, his lips made me think of the blooms of late summer, the sharp-ruffled dianthus, edges darkening to blood in the heat. His bone structure was broader than hers but still seemed somehow differently proportioned, his arms hanging a bit too long from shoulders not quite balanced to his height. Inky hair pulled back from his face fell in a tail down his back. One strand had escaped to fall over his shoulder and I could see a blue shimmer in its silk sheen.

He arched his left eyebrow, blueness in the elegant arch, repeating the deep shades of the fanged lines around it.

“Shall we?” he repeated.

I stared at him. What was the question?





About the Author:

Jeffe Kennedy took the crooked road to writing, stopping off at neurobiology, religious studies and environmental consulting before her creative writing began appearing in places like Redbook, Puerto del Sol, Wyoming Wildlife, Under the Sun and Aeon. An erotic novella, Petals and Thorns, came out under her pen name of Jennifer Paris in 2010, heralding yet another branch of her path, into erotica and romantic fantasy fiction. Since then, an erotic short, Feeding the Vampire, and another erotic novella, Sapphire, have hit the shelves. 

Her contemporary fantasy novel, Rogue’s Pawn, book one in A Covenant of Thorns, will be published in July, 2012. Jeffe lives in Santa Fe, with two Maine coon cats, a border collie, plentiful free-range lizards and frequently serves as a guinea pig for an acupuncturist-in-training. Find her on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/Author.Jeffe.Kennedy) and Twitter (@jeffekennedy) or visit her at her website http://jeffekennedy.com/.