Book Blitz : Cousin Q by Tammy J. Palmer

Cousin Q (An “Off Limits” Novelette)
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Cassie Anderson has a history of falling for the wrong guys; ex -cons, rebels, and hard drinking cheating types. Her most recent mistake had been her part-time employee as well as her live -in boyfriend, and now that he’s gone, she’s struggling to make rent and manage her antique store alone. When her cousin, a man with a history of depression and suicide attempts, shows up looking for work and a place to lay down his sleeping bag, she offers him a job and her guest room.

Q is doing better than ever and the close bond they shared as kids is still strong, but they’re not kids anymore and it’s not innocent. Cassie is determined to change her ways and stop falling for the wrong guys, and that means fighting her attraction to a man who is most definitely off-limits. But is Q really the wrong guy?

After his second suicide attempt, my cousin gave up his quest to find peace and settled into a nomad’s life, rotating relatives, camping in attics and basements, trailers and tents, doing odd jobs to earn his keep. I’ve always known my turn would come, so I’m not surprised to see Quinton, or Q as I call him, walk into my antique store carrying a backpack and sleeping bag.

I’m behind the counter ringing up half a dozen Nancy Drew mysteries to a woman who claims she’s buying them for her granddaughter. After she spends a full five minutes telling me how fond she was of the books when she was a girl, I have to wonder who they’re really for. I’m imagining some ten-year-old girl tossing these books into her closet without a second thought, or worse leaving them on her bedroom floor where they will be trampled, while smiling at the woman, agreeing that of course her granddaughter will love the books, and also keeping one eye on Q. I’m curious to see what will grab his interest first.

The winner is a barely used erector set still in its original box. This is not surprising. Q was always building things when he was a kid. I remember him throwing blocks at me one Christmas, after I accidentally knocked down one of his towers, and me crying to my mother. He was such a hot head then, that Grandma Jones used to call him her little Tasmanian Devil.

Grown up Q has none of the fury of kid Q. He looks too thin in the large green army jacket, and the faded jeans worn dangerously low on narrow hips. His dark hair has outgrown its last cut, and a stray lock falls down over the sunglasses he wears to hide his empty right eye socket.

When my customer is gone I step around to the other side of the counter and say, “I’m sorry sir, but you’ll have to leave the backpack outside.”

Q turns around, lowering his glasses on one side, revealing one big beautiful brown eye. “It’s me, Cassie.”

“Of course it’s you. I was kidding.” I hug him hard, my cheek coming right up against a cold button on his jacket. I pull back and see that the button reads, Stop the war in Vietnam. There are several patches advocating peace. One arm of the jacket has been cut off above the elbow, revealing the peace symbol tattoo on his forearm, a hand with two fingers forming a V. I touch the frayed edge of his sleeve. “Uncle Otto?”

“How’d you guess?”

Otto is the brother of both our mothers. He survived Vietnam minus an arm and later joined the peace rallies. “I can’t believe he’d give this away.”

Q shrugs. “It was in an old box in his attic with a bunch of other stuff. He said I could have whatever I wanted if I got rid of the rest.”

A rush of excitement overcomes me, “What else was in the box? Is there anything left?”

Q shakes his head and a shadow slips over his face. “Sorry, it looked like junk to me. I should have thought of you.”

Of course he should have thought of me. The unwritten rule in our family is that anything that might possibly be considered an antique should be brought to me before being discarded, but I never could get mad at Q, not even when I had a right to.

Author Bio

Tammy J. Palmer writes contemporary romance, has been part of a writing critique/support group for nearly two decades, and is a member of RWA. Long ago she made the wise decision to marry Superman (if he can’t figure it out, it can’t be done). She had two kids, who were far better behaved than she deserved, and grew into truly amazing adults. She has a fat, lazy cat named Betty Boop.

“I believe it’s our contradictions that make us interesting. For example, I hate the rain and live in the Willamette Valley, one of the rainiest places in the country. I love artsy places full of interesting, creative people, and live in a suburb full of 9-5 people wearing sensible shoes. I shop resale and am surrounded by strip malls. I’m an introvert and I work part time as a grocery clerk— an extrovert’s job. I love fiction and find sports boring. I married a man who loves sports and finds fiction boring. I write and read to escape from the real world, and yet I love stories that reflect real life.”

Visit Tammy’s website for blog posts on Life in the Express Lane, or email her at tammyjpalmer@hotmail.com

Book Blitz : Bright Lines by Jane Devin

After a childhood spent drifting between foster homes, the desire for love and stability becomes both a propelling force and a tender, vacant space in Easton McNeil’s life. But the man who keeps moving forward in search of the ‘beautiful ordinary’ finds himself confronted by unexpected curves. He’s a virgin who becomes a father. A humanistic dreamer who becomes a business journalist. A practical man who ends up leaving his stable career for a gig as a sidekick to the notorious shock jock, Cooper Ross.

Encouraged by Ross’s oddball fans, Easton plans a cross-country road trip to interview them. Now an empty-nester, the man who’s always loved the idea of home sells his and embarks on a wholehearted mission to say yes—to broader horizons, new experiences, and wherever the road might lead him—or at least that’s what he believes.

The mission becomes more complicated when he meets the enigmatic Eleanor Conley. Suddenly, the tender, vacant space that he’s spent years trying to mitigate becomes an all-out hunger that sends Easton careening forward for the sake of love. But are he and Eleanor meant to be together, or are they meant to be each other’s catalysts on the way to somewhere else?

Bright Lines is the story of an unusually hopeful man and his lifelong search for love, family and connection.

The book will be on sale via Kindle Countdown beginning April 5. The sale will continue until April 11.

Book Excerpt

Until I lied skin-to-skin with Eleanor, I didn’t fully appreciate the crushing weight of the stone in my spirit or the toll it had taken. The years of forced indifference, and the futile struggle to quash the wants when the ache became too scraping. The persistence of one-day dreams, no matter how unyielding the reality. My stubborn refusal to cave into hopelessness, or to graciously accept a fate that felt inhuman. The desperate way I held onto the steadfast belief that nothing was impossible, even when all that was possible was to guard against despair and apathy. All of it left a mark.

Sometimes, the if only’s of love felt so close, so utterly possible in my imagination, yet remained so distant that they may as well have been a piece of sky or a star. Still, my compulsion was to reach, to wish, to plead. Over the years, there had even been times that I stood under the vast night sky, dry, thirsty and wanting, with my arms outstretched and my mouth open in a humble, desperate prayer.

A lack of mercy is to sense that you’ve been heard, but left unanswered.

I would not have thought that decades later, Mercy would finally arrive to wash away the stone, bringing with her not a few words, not a chisel, but a whole river that she opened to me, as if it were always meant to be mine.

Eleanor, my river, my mountain, my sun. My long-awaited and most tender mercy.

We said yes together on a gray April day in San Diego, with a hazy fog rolling over the Pacific coast and a light mist in the air. We stood together in the warm, clean white of a hotel room, my frayed bag thrown on a chair, her neat luggage on a rack, two travelers who had decided to take shelter in each other.

“I want to,” Eleanor said. A three word answer to those years of prayers. I placed my hand on her pale neck and drew her close for a kiss, but then I paused, searching her eyes for any sign of withdrawal. Finding none, I traced the outline of her face with my fingertips, needing to remember always this moment. What if it was the only moment we would ever have? What if her river of want suddenly closed, dammed by her conscience of 19 years?


About the Author

I’m an essayist and author presently living in Phoenix, AZ with my beloved sidekick, Annie, who I probably talk about far too much. What can I say? I’m a dog person.

My new novel, Bright Lines, is available on Amazon.

My memoir, Elephant Girl, is available in paperback and Kindle versions on Amazon.com.

I occasionally blog during political seasons at The Huffington Post. You are welcome to follow me on Facebook or Twitter.

If you’re looking for my road trip blog, Finding My America, I let it go a couple of years after the road trip ended. One day, I’ll do a book of essays about that journey. It was an amazing experience.

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Author Guest Post : Talking Dirty with the Boss by Jackie Ashenden

Six Things I'm Jealous of about a Winter Christmas.


Hi and thanks for having me on the blog. I'm still on Christmas vacation here in New Zealand and since Christmas is in summer for us, I thought I'd do a post about a few things I'm jealous of about a winter Christmas. I've only ever had two winter Christmases in my life and they were pretty special (I didn't get snow though, which was a disappointment to me).


1. No snow. Which means no snow angels, no tobogganing, no skating, no skiing.
2. It's too hot for a cosy fire, which means you don't get to curl up in front of it while you open your Christmas presents.
3. Mulled wine is nice but I suspect it would be even nicer if it was cold outside and not blazingly hot.
4. While we do have a traditional Christmas dinner - ie ham or turkey – it's still summer and hot, and being full is much more pleasant in winter. It's also not fun when you have to put on your swimming costume the day after all the Christmas cheer…
5. Because it doesn't get that cold in Auckland – even in winter – we don't often have fires in our houses. Which means no chimneys. And no mantelpieces to put your Christmas stocking on. And having Santa come in through the door or the window really isn't as exciting.
6. When it's cold and snowy you have more excuses to stay inside, curled up in front of the fire, reading your Christmas books. Unlike here, when it's sunny outside and everyone wants you to go do something and you don't have any excuses not to.

What about you? What was your most enjoyable Christmas? And did you ever have Christmas in the summer?

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About the Author:

Jackie has been writing fiction since she was eleven years old. Mild mannered fantasy/SF/pseudo-literary writer by day, obsessive romance writer by night, she used to balance her writing with the more serious job of librarianship until a chance meeting with another romance writer prompted her to throw off the shackles of her day job and devote herself to the true love of her heart – writing romance. She particularly likes to write dark, emotional stories with alpha heroes who’ve just got the world to their liking only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines.

She lives in Auckland, New Zealand with her husband, the inimitable Dr Jax, two kids, two cats and some guppies (possibly dead guppies by the time you read this). When she’s not torturing alpha males and their stroppy heroines, she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, posting random crap on her blog, or being forced to go mountain biking with her husband.

Jackie’s Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

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Author Guest Post/Giveaway : Love in Touch by Lucy May Lennox

Lucy May Lennox Guest Post

Distractions from Writing

The only way to write is just to do it. But it's soooo hard not to get distracted. I clear my schedule, find an hour or even a whole day to dedicate to writing, then....nothing. What happened?

The internet. Really I could begin and end the list right there. It's a major problem that the same tool I use to write (the computer) is also the portal to literally endless hours of distraction (the internet). Just turning off the internet connection never works for me. First, because I need to take periodic breaks to check email or relax, and second because I need the internet for research as I go along. So I think "I'll just check this one thing" then I get sucked into an internet black hole, clicking along links of things I MUST read or watch and suddenly I realize hours have gone by with no writing.

Television. This one is easier for me to ignore, because I'm pretty good at setting aside specific times for watching, and turning off when the show is over. But sometimes my husband will turn on the TV when I had planned to write, and I just get sucked in. Law and Order is the worst for me this way--if I get even a little engaged with the story at the beginning, I have to watch to the end. It's like crack. Seriously, I wish I could write like that.

Housework. I can't complain, because my husband is super about helping out and dividing the work fairly. But I do use housework or cooking as a procrastination tool when I want to put off writing. Well at least in that case, I have something to show for it in the end, unlike with internet or TV.

I don't have any solution to these distractions, sorry! But one thing I have found helps me keep engaged with a writing project is to always be thinking about it. While I'm doing other things, like commuting or cooking or even falling asleep at night, I'll play out scenes in my head, going over and over details and dialog until I'm satisfied. Then when I sit down to write, I'm ready to go and less likely to procrastinate because I know what I want to say already.

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About the Author

Lucy May Lennox is a lifelong resident of the beautiful Pacific Northwest. Her first ambition in life was to become a child actor, but when she grew too old to be an adorable prodigy, she turned to writing instead. A connoisseur of novels featuring men with physical disabilities, she grew frustrated with all the cliches, ignorance and stereotypes and decided to write her own positive take on disability. In addition to writing, Lucy also enjoys cooking and gardening, and is an amateur opera singer.

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Book Blitz: What a Texas Girl Dreams by Kristina Knight

Monica Witte has life the way she likes it – she comes home to be babied every few months and the rest of the time she has no strings holding her back. But after her horse is injured in a rodeo performance, Monica knows it's time to come home and face her family – warts and all.

Trickett works best on his own. A world-renowned large-animal vet, he likes his quiet life in the Texas countryside. When Monica Witte blows into town, demanding a quick fix to her horse's big issues, his life is turned upside down. Trickett doesn't understand Monica's need to perform before perfect strangers or why she wants to keep the truth from her family. And the more he gets to know her, the more he wonders if he really is better off on his own.


Crimson Romance

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Book Excerpt

Trick followed and was barely inside the trailer when Monica launched herself into his arms.

“Did you miss me?” She whispered the words against his mouth, nibbled his lower lip. Trick knew it was a rhetorical question. He knew Monica would go running into the Texas afternoon if he answered with one hundred percent honesty. So for the first time today he kept his big mouth shut—figuratively speaking—and fell into the moment.

Her mouth was hot on his, demanding. Mad at her or not for risking her life in that bull pen, he couldn’t resist her. Trick dug his hands into her hair, breaking the elastic at her nape in the process. Monica wrapped one leg around his, pushing herself against him, as if their bodies might become one hot, writhing unit. Trick pushed his tongue between her lips, wanting to taste more of her.

Their teeth clicked together and Monica chuckled. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Trick pushed her against the side of the trailer. “Really? Because you didn’t even want a handshake ten seconds ago,” he said between kisses. He smelled coconut in her hair, bananas on her skin, and despite the overpowering aroma of cooped-up horse, the trailer was suddenly a tropical paradise.

“You know the rules.” She panted and kissed her way along his jawline. He lifted her up by the hips until her legs were wrapped around his waist.

Yeah, he knew the rules. No deep feelings, no firm commitments, no family involvement. They drove into Austin or San Antonio for dates, she stayed over at his place, and he was never invited to the Diamond for more than vet checks. On the occasional long weekend or during a break from the rodeo, he’d go to her place in Austin. Easy.

Up until two weeks ago, it had been enough. Then he asked her to take a long weekend and she balked. Pride made him throw down the ultimatum that she stay. After seeing her in the ring with the bull, easy wasn’t nearly enough. He wanted more. He wanted to take her to dinner in town. Wanted to wake up with her wild hair spread over his pillows every morning. Wanted to come home to her every night.

“This isn’t exactly the safest place in the world for hot, sweaty sex.”


About the Author

Once upon a time, Kristina Knight spent her days running from car crash to fire to meetings with local police - no, she wasn't a trouble-maker she was a journalist. When the opportunity to focus a bit of energy on the stories in her head, she jumped at it. And she's never looked back. Now she writes magazine articles by day and romance novels with spice by night. And any toddler-free, five minute break she has. She lives on Lake Erie with her husband and 4 year old daughter. Happily ever after.


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Bookmark Tour/Guest Post: Camdeboo Nights by Nerine Dorman

Friend or foe?
By Nerine Dorman

My most recent release, Camdeboo Nights, is about friends… And, of course, enemies. This paranormal roadtrip/creature mash-up features vampires, witches and mages… and other things that go bump in the night, as well as a bunch of youngsters who realize they have to rely on each other if they’re going to make it through the night.

The primary relationship is between my vampire, Trystan, and the young mortal woman Helen. Warning, this is no Edward/Bella-type pairing. The two know that they *like* each other and they’re interested in each other, but they’re rather tentative about hooking up. Trystan’s worried about his motivations, since he’s pretty sure she’s going to make a good vampire snack if he’s not careful, and Helen’s had such bad luck dating boys, she’s taking things slow. But that doesn’t stop them from having a few moonlit walks.

Helen’s just been uprooted from her life in Cape Town, and has been forced to move in with her grandmother, who lives in an isolated farming hamlet in the countryside. Not only that, but she has to start attending boarding school. Not fun. Though she tries to fit in with the popular kids, this is not to be. She doesn’t like the way they pick on the kids who might be slightly different. And it’s precisely the fact that she’ll stand up for the underdog that draws two other very important friends to her – Arwen and Etienne.

Arwen’s parents really did name her after a character from Lord of the Rings. Not only that, but she’s descended from a long line of hereditary witches, who’ve gone into hiding in the same hamlet where Helen’s just moved to. She’s prickly and aloof, and doesn’t easily take to strangers, perhaps because her parents have always sheltered her. Perhaps because of this, she goes out of her way to provoke people by dressing goth and making no secret of her interest in ghost-hunting and tarot cards. It doesn’t help that she’s basically making herself a target for the bullies.

I must admit I have a massive soft spot for Etienne. He sees right through Arwen’s standoffish exterior, and the two are best friends. Which is fantastic for Etienne, because his parents split up years ago and he’s been shunted around from family member to family member, until he’s ended up at boarding school. But that’s not his only problem. He’s also a little person, which among the generally sports mad crowd at Rubidge Secondary School can and does present a problem. From time to time he should really keep his mouth shut, as his wisecracks get him into further trouble.

I decided to tell Camdeboo Nights from the perspective of these four characters. Why? They won’t always talk to each other. They won’t always have all the information, though readers will have the privilege of knowing more of what’s going on behind the scenes than the characters. And of course, what I’ve discovered so far is that every reader will pick his or her favourite character.

The most commonly asked question I get is who’s my favourite? I honestly can’t tell you. I love all of them for various reasons. I’d love to know who yours is once you’ve had a chance to read the book. Will I write more? I’ll say this much, that there are tentative plans afoot, but when I do pick up the story, it will most likely be a few years after the events in Camdeboo Nights. I’m rather fond of Trystan, Helen, Arwen and Etienne, and I’d love to see them reunite for another adventure.

Curious much? I invite you to take the chance to lose yourself in my world for a spell. There’s nothing typical about this novel, as many of its readers have discovered so far.

Buy Camdeboo Nights at Amazon

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About Camdeboo Nights

Helen Ashfield’s world is about to be turned upside down. Is she ready?

Helen Ashfield’s life is complicated. Not only must she adjust to her parents’ divorce, but she has to come to grips with her new school in the small South African Karoo town of Graaff-Reinet. She’s sorely mistaken if she thinks she’s going to slot seamlessly into her new life. Her growing magical powers have attracted the unwanted attention of Trystan, a vampire, who may not have her best interests at heart.

Outcast from his kind for drinking another vampire’s blood, Trystan has been on the run for almost a hundred years from Mantis–the closest thing their kind has to an enforcer. All Trystan wants is an existence of quiet anonymity, but Helen turns his world upside-down.

Helen’s powers also mark her as one of Mantis’ targets. If Mantis gets control of Helen, she’ll change the course of history…for the worse.

Camdeboo Nights on Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo Books

Excerpt
Armed with her grandmother’s shopping list, Helen ran out to the familiar silver Volvo, looking forward to speaking with Arwen, only to discover Szandor and another woman with a teased-out mop of white-blond hair waited in the car.

The woman turned icy gray eyes on Helen, giving her the impression that she could read each of Helen’s secrets.
She was pale, which wasn’t helped by the funerary aspect of her clothing–a buttoned-up sleeveless shirt with a cameo at her throat. When she moved, an audible swish of many layers of satin and chiffon filled the vehicle.

This must be the aunt. She couldn’t be the mother. The resemblance to Szandor was almost uncanny.

Szandor smiled, but the pleasure did not reach his eyes. “This is Sonja, my sister. Sonja, this is Arwen’s new friend, Helen.”
Sonja gave the briefest of frowns before facing the window.

“Uh, hi,” Helen said, wishing that she could be anywhere else but in this car with these peculiar people. The journey to Graaff-Reinet would be just over half an hour but it would feel like an eternity.

Szandor made a sound that was almost a snigger before turning the key. If only Damon were here, but her brother had gone to visit the Prof the instant his chores were done.

They drove in silence, with only the hiss of the air-conditioner as accompaniment, until they left the valley.
Then Szandor said, “Did you enjoy the films last night, Helen?”

She thought her heart would explode. Should she lie? Should she allow the story to filter through without some of the pertinent details?

“I… Uh. Yes.” She had watched films after Trystan had walked them home. Granted, she hadn’t been able to concentrate on any of the onscreen action.

“Oh,” Szandor said.

She caught a glimpse of his amused expression in the rearview mirror.

Bloody hell, of course he didn’t believe her. What did she expect?

“You haven’t seen or heard anything that you would consider out of the ordinary, have you?” Szandor asked.
“Um, no.”

“You’ll tell us if you do, won’t you?” Szandor asked. It was more a command than a question.

“I guess so.” Helen clutched the seat with white-knuckled hands.

Her grandmother’s amused tones echoed in her memory. The whole lot of them, they’re all witches. The father, too.
How far would Szandor push his craft? What could he do? Was she in any danger? If there was the superstitious fear of witchcraft that was prevalent among the indigenous Africans…

She’d read a little about the subject a few years previously while researching for a painting for her art classes. Witchcraft was a fascinating topic but she had never expected to ever deal with the real thing. Now her present situation seemed very real and very menacing.

“Where’s Arwen?” Helen hoped to steer their conversation to safer territory. She may as well have said “Nice weather, we’re having.”

“Arwen has been grounded,” Szandor said, his pale gaze reading the road ahead.

Oh heck. He knew.

“Oh.” Perhaps it would be better to say nothing at all then she wouldn’t dig herself a deeper hole.

The rest of the ride passed in uncomfortable silence. Helen pressed her face against the glass and hoped nothing more would be said.

She hated deception of any kind. Whenever she lied, she always ended up being caught out. Instead, she watched the passing landscape, where gray-blue spiked agave lined the road in clumps. Every so often jeep tracks led from the road they followed and she wondered where they went.

About Nerine Dorman

An editor and multi-published author, Nerine Dorman currently resides in Cape Town, South Africa, with her visual artist husband. Some of the publishers with whom she works include Dark Continents Publishing and eKhaya (an imprint of Random House Struik). She has been involved in the media industry for more than a decade, with a background in magazine and newspaper publishing, commercial fiction, and print production management within a below-the-line marketing environment. Her book reviews, as well as travel, entertainment and lifestyle editorial regularly appear in national newspapers. A few of her interests include music travel, history (with emphasis on Egypt), psychology, philosophy, magic and the natural world.


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Book Blitz Tour: Mail Order Man by Heather Gray

About Mail Order Man

A well-meaning friend places an ad to find a mail order husband for Sarah, the proprietress of Larkspur’s stage and mail office. Sarah, who is generally quiet and reserved, doesn't know about the ad and has no idea what to do with all the people that are showing up in her community. Before long, the town is overrun with men and mail alike. Sarah is trying to avoid some men who have accosted her on the street when she stumbles into Samuel. Through long days spent together at the stage office, some very adventurous pots of coffee and a shared faith, the two become friends.

Sarah knows that Samuel is hiding something from her, something important, but that doesn't stop her heart from leaping wildly into love. Lacking the confidence to trust her heart, Sarah wars with herself over the feelings she can no longer deny. When some of the men who have come to town show their true intentions, a shootout follows. Sarah finally gets answers to many of the questions circling through her mind. One question remains, though. Where will her mail order man go when the dust settles?


Excerpt
Right then Claudio and Cesar came through the door. Both boys chimed a “Good morning!” in Sarah’s direction as they headed straight for the coffee on the stove. Sarah saw their intent and inwardly cringed. Not only was she not sure about how many scoops of grounds she’d put in, but the coffee had been percolating much longer than normal because she got distracted with the letters.

Samuel had his back to the stove and did not see the boys as they each poured a cup of coffee. Sarah was about to warn them as Claudio, the middle boy at age sixteen, took a big swig of the hot brew while Cesar, the youngest, opted to blow on his first. Claudio’s eyes grew wide as he swallowed. “Miss Sarah, I do believe that’s the best coffee you've ever made. That’s the kind of coffee vaqueros drink!”

Samuel visibly perked up at the mention of coffee. Sarah was sure he couldn't know a vaquero was a Mexican cowboy and that they drink their camp coffee strong. If he understood what the boys were saying, he definitely wouldn't be in a hurry to get a cup of his own. Cesar finally took a drink of his coffee. Sarah could see him trying not to make a face as he swallowed the brew. “Vaquero coffee for sure, Miss Sarah. Papa would be proud.”

Sarah had barely started to warn, “Uh, Samuel…” when he took a big gulp of the coffee Claudio had poured for him. She watched the shock on his face as he first paled and then grew red. His eyes flew wide as he tried desperately to swallow the coffee. He finally ran out the front door and spit the coffee out over the edge of the stage platform.

The boys could not contain their howling laughter as Samuel walked back into the stage office, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Mail Order Man on Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo Books

About Heather Gray
Aside from her long-standing love affair with coffee, Heather’s greatest joys in life are her relationship with her Savior, her family, and writing. Years ago, she decided it would be better to laugh than yell. Heather carries that theme over into her writing where she strives to create characters that experience both the highs and lows of life and, through it all, find a way to love God, embrace each day, and laugh out loud right along with her.

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Blitz Tour:Truth's Blood by Tyler Roberts

Truth's Blood by Tyler Roberts
Genre: Apocalyptic fiction
Tyler's Website | Facebook | GoodreadsTruth's Blood on Amazon | Barnes & NoblePublication Date: December 20, 2012

About Truth's Blood

It hadn't seemed possible that a president whose policies had impoverished millions could be reelected. It was the waning years of the American empire and the liberties represented in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights were a fading memory. The government monitored every aspect of American life, and the drones buzzing overhead served as a constant reminder, but it was the government's reckless spending that brought the nation to its knees.

Now, the economy is in ruin, and the president's European style welfare state stands at the brink of collapse. The United States is unable to repay its debts. China has come seeking payment in real assets, and they mean business. Chaos reigns; power has been cut; select cities have been decimated by nuclear bombs; and burned out houses occupy neighborhoods like rotting teeth in the mouth of a crack addict. What was new is now old and what was old is now new again.

Cliffson Lang's son attempts to escape the fires and mobs overrunning the city of Seattle. When Cliffson is called away to help, his other son is kidnapped by occupying forces and placed in a work camp. Truth's Blood is the Lang family's story of survival at a time when government dependency must be replaced by self-reliance. As the United States experiences the disintegration of society and foreign occupation, their challenge verges on the impossible.


About Tyler Roberts
Tyler Roberts is trained and educated in the fields of biology and environmental sciences. His hobbies include beekeeping, organic gardening and writing.

Blitz Tour: Secrets of Jenkins Bridge by Donna Shields

About Secrets of Jenkins Bridge


Hunting down a dangerous mob boss has brought FBI agent Mitchell Donovan home, reawakening an old flame, resurrecting a dead best friend, and discovering fatherhood. As if those aren’t enough, his new case will push everything else aside: finding the kidnappers who took the daughter he never knew he had.

Katherine Delaney never forgot the heartbreak Mitchell had caused with his abrupt departure all those years ago. With her dead ex-husband accused of murder and her daughter kidnapped, she will place her trust in the one man who could trample her heart again if she gets too close. But, will the resurrection of Katherine’s ex-husband and Mitchell’s chase for a killer destroy their second chance at love and happiness?


Excerpt

They followed the paramedic toward the ambulance while Gladys and the other woman continued to talk.

He’d had a nightmare in the early hours before Gladys’ call had awakened him. The Camaro from his dream sat in the same exact spot. Aidan pointed out the car and told Mitchell he had to save ‘her’, whoever that might be. He figured he was about to find out. If, in fact, he wasn’t losing his marbles.

As they rounded the corner to the back of the ambulance, Gladys stopped short causing Mitchell to nearly colliding into her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he croaked, and then cleared his raw throat. “What’s the victim’s name?”

The paramedic shook her head, blonde ponytail swishing. “We don’t know. Haven’t found any ID yet, and she’s a little confused. Has a nasty bump to the head.”

He let Gladys climb aboard. Her upward movement stopped in midair, one leg dangling a little too close to Mitchell’s jewels. He jumped back as she whipped around, almost losing her balance. In a barely audible tone, she said, “I know her.”

“You know practically the entire town.” Mitchell gestured toward the victim. “Say something. Who is she?”

Her gaze stared off in the distance above his head. “It’s just so weird. It’s the widow whose husband drove off that bridge.” She pointed toward Jenkins Bridge, the old wooden-covered overpass in the distance.

An icy chill ran up his spine. Gladys moved aside, giving him full view of Katherine Delaney. She may be battered and bloody, but Mitchell could never forget her face, her high cheekbones, or the tiny, turned up nose. Shit.

Their eyes met, and his chest instantly tightened, his throat constricting. Something was wrong. She seemed to stare through him. Surely, she recognized him. He hadn’t changed that much. He managed to find his voice. “Hello.”

Katherine closed her dazzling emerald eyes. “What happened?”

He put his trembling hands behind his back interlocking them. “You were in an accident. What’s your name?”

She shook her head, the confusion apparent..

“It’s all right. This is Detective Freeman and I’m Detective Donovan.” Would the name register?

If it did, she didn’t react. She closed her eyes and turned her head away from them.

The paramedic announced, “Gonna have to finish this at the hospital after the doctor examines her.”

Mitchell reluctantly backed away allowing Gladys to jump down. Once the ambulance left, Mitchell said, “She didn’t recognize me.” Hundreds of miles apart and fifteen years later, and none of that mattered anymore. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and protect her. What was her life like now? Did she still live on the ranch with Aidan’s mother? Or did she have another whole life somewhere else?

Would she be okay? What if something happened to her? He couldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t.

“You know her?”

Of course he had. When he left Addison, he had been running from the hurt they’d caused one another. And his mother’s death. And his own demons.. “You keep forgetting. I grew up in this town.”

“What’s your connection?”

He didn’t want to get into his and Katherine’s complicated past at the moment. “We went to school together. Her husband, Aidan, and I were best friends.”

Gladys’ milk chocolate eyes grew large. “Oh wow. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was a long time ago.” Life goes on.

About Donna Shields


I live in the beautiful upstate of South Carolina with my husband, our children, and some great haunts. Besides being a busy bee with my writing, I'm a Mom, a Grandmom, a co-owner of a motorcycle shop and an avid reader. And we love traveling to Mexico and Jamaica when life and finances allow us to go.

I have two books published with Soul Mate Publishing: The Swan Cove Murders, a paranormal romantic suspense, and Secrets of Jenkins Bridge, a romantic suspense. I like writing about things that go bump in the night and finding a new twist to include in my stories.

I can usually be found on Facebook and Twitter (@Donna_Shields), and on my blog.


Donna's Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Soul Mate Publishing

Secrets of Jenkins Bridge on Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Soul Mate Publishing

Publication Date: June 6, 2012

Blitz Tour: To Be Or Not by Margo Hoornstra

About To Be Or Not

Barry Carlson had it all, a successful career in professional baseball and the adoration of any woman he wanted. Except one. Forced to retire in his prime, Barry returns to his hometown of Summerville, New York to coach the Minor League Hornets.

Twenty years ago, Barry broke through Amanda Marsh’s trust issues. He melted her ice, won her love, then walked away without a backward glance to survey the wreckage. Now Amanda is the head of public relations for the Hornets and happily single—until Barry slides back into her life.

Still reluctant to trust, Amanda gives Barry another chance. But the announcement of their twenty-fifth high school reunion leads to an asinine bet between Barry and his old buddies, and threatens to ruin their new-found relationship. As scandals of the past and present converge, can Barry and Amanda get beyond their differences to find their second chance at love?

Excerpt

“I don’t think he was lying about this, because I was there too. Back at Doogan’s when you and your group of old buds came up with that—that—bet.”

As his memory completed a fast rewind of the specific event, the warmth in his heart turned to ice.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he hedged as his mind reeled with ways to talk himself out of the deep, dark pit he was about to fall into.

“Don’t you, Barry?” She gestured with a head toss over one shoulder. “According to him, the wager was your idea.”

He felt the pit begin to close in on top of him. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

When her gaze returned to take a vise grip on his, he saw only contempt. “So you admit to setting me up to win a bet with your pals.”

“What? Oh, God. No, Amanda.” Hearing the tears in her voice, a chill ran down his limbs. “It was nothing like that.” At the devastation in her eyes,
his gut twisted into knots and he could swear his heart stop beating. “Aaron Goodwin is an unmitigated ass. A jerk of the highest order. He
doesn’t have one cell in his body that isn’t selfish and self involved. In short, he’s a total and complete ass.”

The look of raw pain on her face was the same one that had haunted him for so many years. “It appears he has some competition in you.”

About Margo Hoornstra


My personal history in a nutshell is pretty simple. I’m a wife to one; mother to four—seven if you count in-law children which I do—and grandmother to four so far.

My work experience includes public relations specialist, magazine editor, television producer, and script and speech writer. I’m also a founding member of Mid-Michigan Romance Writers of America.

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Bookmark Blitz: Destiny Unveiled by Laura DeLuca

Blurb:

Gabriella and Darron thought their magickal battle was over when they defeated the evil warlock, Richard. When her Aunt Donna seeks Gabriella's help in rescuing her catatonic daughter from the Dark Coven, Gabriella discovers that her cousin holds a power within her that would be catastrophic in the hands of the evil witches. Gabriella's coven sets out on a journey that may be their last. Along the way, they meet new allies, face devastating treachery, and battle not only the Dark Coven, but the darkness within themselves. When Gabriella finally comes face to face with the cousin she never knew existed, her true destiny is unveiled, and the fate of the mortal world is in her hands.

Excerpt:

After collecting the offering from his followers, the leader returned to the center of the circle and the waiting initiate. With one quick motion, he sliced open his own palm. He held his hand over the cup, letting his blood drip slowly into the chalice, until the wound miraculously healed before Darron's startled eyes. When the chalice was full, he carried it to the eager initiate who took the cup firmly into his hands and tilted it towards his lips.

"As this blood makes you one with our flesh, so your soul follows to become one with the darkness," the English voice intoned.

As the initiate drained the last of the liquid in the chalice, his hood fell away, revealing a blonde ponytail pulled back over a pale white face, made even paler by the outline of bright red blood around his lips. Darron watched in stunned, horrified silence as his own face turned to meet his gaze. Eyes turned as black as coals stared back at Darron with a grim smile of satisfaction.

"Rise Darron," the leader commanded. And as he spoke, he lifted the hood from his head. Rise brother of the Dark Coven."

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Author Bio:

Laura “Luna” DeLuca lives at the beautiful Jersey shore with her husband and four children. She loves writing in the young adult genre because it keeps her young at heart. In addition to writing fiction, Laura is also the sole author of a popular review blog called New Age Mama. She is an active member of her local pagan community, and has been studying Wicca for close to eight years. Her current works include Destiny, Destiny Unveiled, Phantom, Morrigan and Player.

Author Links:
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Page Turner Tour: Weathering Rock by Mae Clair

Blurb:

Colonel Caleb DeCardian was fighting America’s Civil War on the side of the Union when a freak shower of ball lightning transported him to the present, along with rival and former friend, Seth Reilly. Adapting to the 21st century is hard enough for the colonel, but he also has to find Seth, who cursed him to life as a werewolf. The last thing on Caleb’s mind is romance. Then fetching Arianna Hart nearly runs him down with her car. He can’t deny his attraction to the outspoken schoolteacher, but knows he should forget her.

Arianna finds Caleb bewildering, yet intriguing: courtly manners, smoldering sensuality and eyes that glow silver at night? When she sees Civil War photographs featuring a Union officer who looks exactly like Caleb, she begins to understand the man she is falling in love with harbors multiple secrets--some of which threaten the possibility of their happiness.

Finding a decent guy who'll commit is hard enough. How can she expect Caleb to forsake his own century to be with her?

Excerpt:

“Stop it!” Arianna shook off Wyn’s grip, pivoting to face him. “Are you crazy?”

Before he could answer, something slammed against the door. Caleb screamed. The sound knifed through her like the violent jolt of an electrical wire.

“Caleb!” She launched herself at the door, panicked and terrified by the thought of the man she loved in horrific pain.

“Don’t!” Wyn stiff-armed her aside and grabbed the knob, forcibly holding it in place. “Get a chair. Something, anything! We’ve got to keep him locked inside.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Arianna, get a fricking chair. Now!”

There was another crash, and then a bang as something heaved against the door, making it shudder from top to bottom. Arianna heard a snarl that turned her blood to ice. The door rattled in its frame, weakening as something battered against it. Something inhuman locked in the room with Caleb.

A cold fist clamped over her stomach.

“Wyn, what’s going on?”

“Chair!” he spat. “Get me a damn chair.”

The raw urgency of his voice plowed through her confusion. She darted into the dining room, snagged a chair, and dragged it into the hallway. The thing in the parlor was still hammering away, heaving itself against the door in an attempt to burst through. Wyn’s face was white with strain as he struggled to hold the door shut with both hands. He rammed the top of the chair beneath the knob, wedging it securely into place. A blood-thirsty howl exploded from the other side, kicking Arianna’s heartbeat into overdrive.

“My God, Wyn, what’s going on?” She lurched for the door.

“Don’t. You don’t know what you’re doing.” Wyn caught her around the waist and swung her up against the wall.

She tried to squirm free. “I know Caleb’s trapped in there. We have to help him! There’s something in the room. Can’t you hear it?”

He held her wrists, pinning her arms to the wall. “Listen to me!” His eyes were wild, his face inches from hers. With a single frenetic skip of her heart, she realized he was as terrified as she was.

“There’s nothing in the room. Only Caleb. Do you hear me, Arianna? It’s Caleb.”

“No!” She shook her head, unwilling to believe what he told her, but another ear-splitting snarl fanned her fear higher. Nothing made sense. Not the stark fear in Wyn’s eyes, the sweat-slickened grip of his palms crushing her wrists or the chillingly inhuman sounds coming from the parlor. The man she loved could never sound so guttural or barbarous.

“I don’t care!” She ripped free of his hold. “I don’t care if he’s by himself or in there with something else. You have to help him!”

She lunged for the door, but Wyn grappled her around the waist, holding fast. They were still struggling when the sound of shattering glass rang through the narrow center hall of Weathering Rock.

Author Bio:

Mae Clair knew from the time she entered grade school that she wanted to be a writer. She credits her parents with instilling in her an insatiable love of reading through weekly trips to the library when she was a child. Her father, an artist who tinkered with writing, encouraged her to create characters and make-believe worlds by spinning tales of far-off places on summer nights beneath the stars.

Inspired by folktales, legends and things-that-go-bump-in-the-night, she loves to blend the fantastical with the ordinary. Her heroes are known to be flawed and complex, her heroines capable, independent and sexy.

Throughout the years she has been actively involved in various writing and critique groups and is a past President of the Central Pennsylvania Writers’ Organization. She lives in Pennsylvania and is married to her high school sweetheart (a.k.a. the Love of Her Life). In her downtime she enjoys reading, digital scrapbooking and unwinding with her husband by the pool when the fickle PA weather permits. A self-admitted idealist, Mae is passionate about writing, old photographs, a good Maine lobster tail and cats.

Author Links:
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Bookmark Blitz: Gossamer by Renita Pizzitola

Blurb:

Shouldn't all faerytales end with happily-ever-after?

Kyla Ashbury is nearing her eighteenth birthday when a mysterious boy appears at school. Her instant attraction to him inexplicably awakens something inside her and she discovers her true identity.

Now, armed with the knowledge of her past, she is forced to leave behind the life she has always known for a new one filled with temptation, faery charm and magic, and a future she wasn't prepared for.

Kyla is left with a difficult decision…but no matter which path she chooses, someone will get hurt.

A Lyrical Press Young Adult Paranormal Romance


Excerpt:

“It’s kind of ironic our rendezvous point is at the corner of Magnolia and Pansy.” I chuckled. Grant looked at me and arched an eyebrow. He was so cute when he did that. “You know Pansy.” I got nothing. “It’s a joke. You know we are making our great, big, daring escape from Pansy Lane.” He still looked confused. I shook my head. “Never mind.” He didn’t press for an explanation. I shot him a sidelong glance. “Are all grants as serious as you?”

The corner of his mouth tugged up. “I can’t say all, but most grants are guards. Serious comes with the job.”

“So, you’re a guard?” He nodded. “Hmm.”

“Hmm, what?” A smile still played at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m not surprised. You’re observant and cautious. Protective. But, I guess that comes with the job, too.”

“Protective?” His tone doubtful as he repeated my word choice. “I don’t know about that. My job is to sense danger and act upon it if necessary. Safety--I provide safety. I think protectiveness is fueled by emotions, typically, and that goes beyond my job description.”

I was taken aback by Grant’s comment. It seemed almost cold. “But, you told my parents you’d protect me?”

We finally arrived at our destination and I could see Conor already waiting. Grant stopped and looked at me.

“And I will,” he said and walked away.

I was locked into place. My brain incapable of processing his comment and walking at the same time. Was that his way of saying he cared about me? Which really didn’t mean much. I cared about my friends, too. Oh, but I really wanted him to mean something more. Don’t read too much into it. I forced my mind to clear and approached the guys.

Grant filled Conor in on Lexie’s plans to pick us up. He seemed to like the idea of not having to walk the entire way and I could have sworn he liked the idea of seeing Lexie one last time.
The three of us stood silently waiting for her. The humid night air left my skin clammy. A few minutes later a black car pulled up alongside the curb. The tinted passenger window glided down and Lexie peered out at us.

“Need a ride?” She asked with a wicked grin. I grinned back. I was going to miss her. I opened the door and decided to let the boys fight over who got the front seat. Grant stopped me and told me to sit in the front. Although I’m sure he was being a gentleman, I had a strong feeling they didn’t want to deal with the onslaught of questions she was sure to have.

They squished into the back and I climbed in. I pulled my seat up as far as possible, feeling sorry for Grant as he tried to contort into such a small space. I felt bad for Conor too, of course.
As soon as we were buckled, Lexie’s car coasted onto the quiet street.

“Okay, first where to?” She looked at me expectantly. I glanced back at the boys. Grant spoke up giving her directions. She nodded, not even caring that we were asking her to drive us practically out of town.

She laughed. “It’s pretty funny you’re making your big getaway from Pansy Lane.”

“Thank you!” I over exaggerated my words and rolled my eyes at Grant. “See. Joke. Funny.” He grinned and shook his head. I faced front again as my heart fluttered from the adorable way he looked at me.


Author Bio:

Renita Pizzitola writes Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy. An avid reader herself, she has always enjoyed stories with witty humor, romance, and fascinating characters. Renita lives in Texas with her husband and two children. When not writing, she enjoys reading everything she can get her hands on, drinking copious amounts of coffee, and playing referee to her two typically adorable children.

Author Links:
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Page Turner Bonanza Tour: The Gaze by Javier A Robayo

Excerpt:

Tony didn’t look nervous at all. Meanwhile I was awash in uneasiness at the prospect of bringing him into my dorm.

The story, all I want is the story and to find out what motivates such passionate writing, that’s all. Just the story…

Liar…

I felt shaky while he walked. In contrast, his breathing was even as though he was so comfortable with the situation. I suddenly wondered if this particular situation was familiar to him.

We took the stairway to the second floor. Our footfalls echoed loudly, the sound joined only by the faint buzzing of the overhead fluorescent lights.

I unlocked the door with trembling hands that jangled the keys. Somehow, I found the light switch and chased the shadows away, revealing a second hand living room set on cheap flat carpeting. I peeled off my denim jacket and threw it across a chair in the kitchen nook. When I turned, I was surprised to see him leaning against the door, held back by uncertainty.

I held the paper placemat between us like an amulet to ward off his intensity. “Do you mind if I read it?”

He fixed his eyes on me and nodded before glancing away, his chin coming to rest on his chest.

I started reading. It was far more intense than I could have ever imagined. It was nothing but raw fury and passion, a determined declaration of love. It read of this girl that had become the center of his thoughts, the very core of his being. I could feel my heart breaking as I was overwhelmed with the strange notion that I wanted to be this Gwen of his. I wanted to know what it was to feel such passion, such love. Tears sprung in my eyes and I cried for him, for this fortunate girl…

For me...

He didn’t ask what was wrong right away. He simply stared just past my shoulder while I made a futile attempt to dispel a sob. I muttered that this was beautiful and he gave me a sad, crooked smile as a tear rolled off the corner of his eye before he turned his face away.

I don’t know what it was about that tear, but it made me go to him like a magnet to steel and place my hands on his face. His skin was burning. There was a little stubble that only made me too aware of his masculinity.
"Kiss me," I whispered into those confused brown eyes of his. "Just kiss me."

His hands found my wrists and his eyes stayed on mine. Need became a force as tangible as the strong winds that fuel a storm.

I knew he was thinking I was crazy. I knew he thought of all the reasons why he should stop this crazy bitch in heat and go away. Bloody hell, I was thinking I was crazy.

A tiny voice in my head was screaming all sorts of warnings but just when I felt rejection eating away at me, his eyes fell on my lips and after one breathless moment, he leaned down and kissed me.

Molten lead would have frozen my insides in comparison. I was trembling and when I felt his breath stutter, I opened my lips in invitation. He pulled away and a disappointed moan escaped my throat, allowing reason to slowly take root in my brain. I kept my eyes on his.

His hand held my face as delicately as a summer breeze. His thumb brushed away the tears I finally tried to blink away. His eyes seemed to glitter as they searched mine and time seemed to stop its endless march in perfect silence.

Was this wrong? I let out my pent up breath slowly in a sorrowful sigh as electricity crackled between us.

In one swift motion, his hands brought my face up at an angle and he kissed me so hard, I lost what little restraint I had left.

He loves someone else…

He loves her…

Stop this!

I felt weightless. His touch was firm yet gentle. The kiss grew needier and heat traveled down into my body, setting my abdomen aflutter. My hands found the flat planes of his chest and then ran down his sides to his hips. On their way back, they pushed his shirt up. His hot skin sent a pang of need that had my heart hammering in my ribcage.

My tickling fingers forced him to shift and pull away for a breath. I answered his smile with a lustful gaze as I brought his hands to the buttons of my uniform shirt.

His hands ventured over my abdomen and moved up to grace the underside of my breasts, making my head swim. I shrugged the shirt off and his t-shirt joined it on the floor within seconds.

We engaged in a stumbling waltz as we somehow made our way to my bedroom. Our clothes kept pooling on the floor, marking our passing like bread crumbs on an unknown trail. I was almost sick with need as the coarse hair of his chest made contact with my skin. When I felt him rigid on my thighs, I pulled hard on his neck, bringing him on top of me as he braced his fall with his arms on either side of me, never breaking from the kiss.

“Wait…” he panted. “I… um… I don’t have anything.”

It took a few seconds before I realized what he meant. Shame colored me a shade of red I thought would make me glow in the semi darkness. “It’s okay, I promise…” I said breathlessly.

He gave me a dubious look that I hoped to eradicate with more kissing. His lips found my throat, my face, my shoulder, and I curled driving my hips up to meet him. He was being gentle, too gentle, I thought in frustration, when all I wanted was for him to go right through me. I grabbed hold of his hips, and then thoroughly enjoyed the feel of the muscles on his back as I pulled him into me. The sudden fullness forced me to bite my lip to keep me from crying out. It had been so bloody long…

“Kelly…” he whispered almost breaking the spell, but I was too far gone to care.

A thin wisp of rational thought told me he was probably thinking about someone else. I wondered if he called out Kelly only to remind himself that he wasn’t with the girl behind his writing. It didn’t matter. My body overrode my mind as he moved within me. I held on tighter, needing the closeness, if only physical.

…I’ll be no more than a transient thought in her mind, a small measure of time, insignificant. No more than a barely familiar set of notes to a song seldom remembered…

The lines of his writing flashed through my head as my breath grew shallower.

…No more can I feel the soft warmth of her kiss and its absence becomes me in the form of a living death…

All I could do was accept this moment and quell my own thirst for that kind of love with what little he offered me. The kind of love he obviously reserved for the girl from his writing.

His muscles grew taut under my touch while I held my breath as the inevitable rush of heat converged into my center from all corners of my body. I parted the kiss and screamed my ecstasy, burying my face into his chest while he grew impossibly large in me before collapsing, his own conclusion reached. We held onto each other, our breath ragged, both of us feeling each other’s tremors. If this was the one and only time I was to feel this way, then I’d go into the grave smiling to the high heavens.

Blurb:

As a sophomore in college, Samantha Reddick meets Tony Amaya, a brokenhearted young man, whose written words she keeps as a memento of a weekend long affair. The words, written on the back of a paper placemat, become her only solid ground during a tumultuous decade that nearly destroys her, leaving her searching for answers at the bottom of the bottle. Haunted by guilt and the constant menace from a man she once loved, Samantha searches for Tony and inserts herself into his life through an online friend request to his wife, Gwen. Mutual curiosity opens the door to an unexpected friendship that becomes the catalyst of an inner battle between the better woman Samantha longs to be, and the Samantha who despises her own gaze.

Buy Links:
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Author Bio:

Javier A. Robayo is the author of THE GAZE and THE NEXT CHAPTER. He immigrated to the United States in 1988 at the age of 12 from Quito, Ecuador. He began writing as a way of learning English throughout his high school years, and studied at Slippery Rock University in Pennsylvania. He lives in Connecticut, with his wife, and two daughters, where he is currently at work on his next novel.

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Page Turner Tour (Buy The Book) The Adventures of Austin Girl by Carrie Crain

Little Blurb about yourself:

I received my bachelor of arts in Sociology from the University of Oklahoma and studied graduate-level screenwriting and creative writing in fiction at UCLA. I am a housewife and writer who is challenged with bipolar, anticipatory stress, and generalized anxiety. My debut children's (tween) novel, The Adventures of Austin Girl and the Legend of Diablo, published by Two Crain Publishing, is out and available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony Reader Store, and iTunes for ebook readers, Kindle, iPad, and Nook. Also available as a paperback. Twitter the book @LegendofDiablo and fan the page on Facebook.com/LegendofDiablo

1. Who or what inspired you to become a writer?

I blame the Walt Disney book collection my mom gave me as a little girl. Those timeless fairytales swept me up and transported over the rainbow to fantasy land.

2. How long did it take you to write The Adventures of Austin Girl and the Legend of Diablo?

It’s safe to say roughly around 8 years. The story started out as a screenplay and morphed.

3. While writing how many times do you go back and rewrite a plot?

I don’t rewrite the plot per say, rather I delve in and expand or take away what’s not needed, tweak. I’ve tweaked this story so many times, I honestly can’t remember exactly how many. LOL.

4. You run into a bookstore, where do you go first?

The bathroom, then grab a latte, browse cookbooks, magazines before darting over to the children’s section. I’m such a goober!!

5. How many books in a month do you tend to read?

One. I’m an extremely slow reader. My goal is to read a book a week, but I’m not there yet.

6. In all the books you've read. Who is your most favorite character and why?

Chigurh in No Country For Old Men & Bateman from American Psycho. I am drawn to the bad guy. I’m fascinated with what makes them tick and do the things they do in the story. Chigurh is heartless and ruthless. Well, so is Bateman. They’ll stop at nothing to get what they want. Who they are drives the stories. 

7. State 5 random facts about yourself.

1. I am obsessive-compulsive and must, must, must clean house every day to the point of being ridiculous.
2. I can’t keep a plastic plant alive.
3. I collect custom cowboy boots. That’s probably one of my weaknesses as far as shopping goes. LOL.
4. I bite my nails.
5. I keep an ample supply of peppercorns around. I love to grind pepper. The smell stimulates my mood. Okay, wait, that sounded weird.

8. Your favorite Genre?

Tween adventure fantasy and rom/com

9. What are you currently reading?

After Dark by Haruki Murakami and Jay Rubin, it’s under literary genre  

10. What is the best book you've read?

American Psycho and Running with Scissors are two of my faves. I can’t limit to just one!! ;)

11. Any new projects coming up?

I’m doing the NaNoWriMo with hopes in finishing my erotic horror novel called “The Contract.”

Author Bio:

Carrie Crain received her bachelor of arts in Sociology from the University of Oklahoma and studied graduate-level screenwriting and creative writing in fiction at UCLA. She is a housewife and writer who is challenged by bipolar, anticipatory stress, and generalized anxiety.

Her debut tween novel, The Adventures of Austin Girl and the Legend of Diablo will be published by Two Crain Teen, an imprint of Two Crain Publishing, LLC in October 2012 and available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony Reader Store, and iTunes for ebook readers, Kindle, iPad, and Nook. Also available as a paperback online and at select indie bookstores.

If you’re on Goodreads, follow her there, now. She plans on doing some kind of #LegendofDiabloBookClub.

Crain wrapped up her first independent short she wrote and produced called Sould, which was filmed in Oklahoma last summer and included local talent as well as a Hollywood comedian and LA director. The story is about a zany film director desperate to enter a film competition and reluctantly picks a screenplay about a woman who sells her soul. The short will be entered in film competitions both in the States as well as abroad. For more information about her short, visit the Facebook Fan Page at ww.facebook.com/souldshort and follow along on Twitter @SouldShort.

Crain is currently penning her memoir, a collection of humorous essays, Sould: Memoir of Bipolar to be published in 2014, and is the story of a middle-aged housewife’s adventures with bipolar as she struggles to write the next Great American Novel.

She has been a freelance writer for Austin Monthly Magazine and was a contributing writer at Crazytownblog. She lives in Oklahoma with her husband and three dogs. For speaking engagements or book inquiries, please e-mail: wildcatterswife@gmail.com or tweet her @CarrieCrain.

Creative Influences: Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez, Tim Burton, and Wes Anderson

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Excerpt:

THE ADVENTURES OF AUSTIN GIRL AND THE LEGEND OF DIABLO by Carrie Crain - The Kidnapping

The sound of a backfire rattled store windows on the downtown street as Lucky Stevens parked his piece of hippy junk on the East side of Lucky’s Antiques located at 13 Concho Avenue. He drove a flower power Volkswagen bus. The bus was one of those rare 23 windowed jobs with curtains—a residence on wheels.

Straightening his suspenders, he stepped out into the dusty landscape, newspaper in hand. He moseyed past a 1960 black Chevy Pie Wagon parked up ahead, admiring the car. The hot rod was decked out custom style with red and orange flames painted horizontally across the sides and hood. He tipped his beaver Stetson hat to the female driver and grinned handsomely. The pink-haired woman was preoccupied with talking to a Magic 8 Ball and didn’t notice the fifty-year-old cowboy.

Scratching his chin, he leisurely strolled up to a period oak and stained glass door. He reached in his Wrangler jeans front pocket and extracted a set of keys. He put the key in the lock and opened the door to a familiar sight. His antique store was housed in a red brick building in Checkered Past, Texas. He could sniff out valuable antiques just by employing his sixth sense.

Lucky adjusted his string tie that matched his belt that matched his ostrich quill boots. He was in love with ‘vintage everything’ including his clothes and gentleman accouterments. Ambling through the door, he removed his Panama Jack sunglasses. His gait was deliberate, like a sore racehorse. Bells jingled like rowels on a spur letting out the sounds of commerce. Lucky may have been a little deaf, but he wasn’t so deaf that he couldn’t hear money jingle in the pockets of those who entered into his world.

Lucky flipped on the lights and made a silly face at the store’s security camera. Lucky laid his morning Austin American-Statesman newspaper down on the cracked countertop beside the turn of the century cash register, and looked at the time on his 40 year-old Rolex he’d won in a bidding war at an estate sale of one of Lyndon Johnson’s cousins so many years ago. It was still early for shoppers, just a little half past seven a.m. on Friday. A set of white pine plank stairs off to the side began to creak. They led to the attic. Lucky housed antiques there that were part of his private collection, including one secret item in particular that oddly wasn't for sale.

He ditched his attention to the paper and walked over to the bottom of the stairs, looking up into the darkness. “Skinny, you up there?” Lucky hollered sharply. His young stock boy didn’t answer. Shrugging, he turned around to walk off. A thump on his noggin sent Lucky crashing to the hardwood floor. His Stetson flew off of his gray haired head and skidded across the floor like ice on marble. Staggering to his feet, he rubbed the back of his head. “What the—?”