Month: February 2014

Indie Author Spotlight – Lyn Johnson and “Till Death and Beyond”

Indie Author Spotlight – Lyn Johnson and “Till Death and Beyond”

I’ve got another great indie author for you today – she’s Lyn Johnson…

Lyn Johanson

Writing got Lyn through every hurdle and hardship life has dealt her. At first, she shared her feelings with her diary. Then, she poured her soul into her poems. But despite the hidden passion, she chose a career in the logical world of software engineering.

The long and boring hours of writing her master’s thesis encouraged Lyn to open a new blank page and let her imagination take flight. Several years later, her first romance novel was born.

Switching career paths has turned her life upside down.  Now, she doesn’t just live with her husband and sons, she constantly visits the world she dreams up. The world, she invites you to explore.

 

 

You can follow Lyn on Facebook and also Goodreads.

And the book is “Till Death and Beyond”
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Till Death and Beyond is a sizzling tale of two souls bound by destiny in a cruel plot to separate them forever…

A COLD BEAUTY WHO KNOWS DEATH INTIMATELY…

Amira is the strongest witch on the face of the earth, with psychic abilities no others possess. And yet, she is but a slave to the whims of the gods. Forced to be born anew every time she fails in fulfilling an ancient prophecy, Amira is desperate to break the vicious cycle.

A TORMENTED WARRIOR WHO HAS LOST EVERYTHING…

Plagued by the memories and guilt over his family’s demise, Raven lives for the sole reason of restoring his younger brother. And kidnapping a witch is only the beginning—for he intends to right the wrongs of his past by any means necessary.

A DESTINY TO CHANGE THE WORLD…

While the gods might have planned for her to be captured, surrender is not something that comes easy to Amira. Yet one glance into her captor’s eyes, and she is swept away by emotions long ago denied to her. She decides to play along. For a while.

Despite the hatred Raven harbors for their kind, he is intrigued by the witch. One taste of her lips, and she becomes his obsession. Soon, he discovers that fighting against the passion they ignite in one another is futile. But as they strip each other’s secrets, a powerful force threatens to destroy them both.

For in this game of gods nothing is simple—the whole universe seems to conspire against them. And no matter how fiercely they fight, or what they are willing to endure to save each other … the path they travel is paved with loss.

Will they survive the ultimate test, if even their determination—to fight till death—might not be enough?

You can buy it at Amazon (or Amazon UK).  And you can watch the video book trailer on YouTube!

AND, Lyn has provided us with an excerpt from the book, too!

Prologue

 

When the day was night and the night was day, a witch was born in a raging thunder storm.

The earth trembled and shook, welcoming its destined fate … hundreds of witches sang—salvation finally in their grasp.

The prophecy once foretold was alive in a form of true beauty, with only death on her mind.

 

The witch was supposed to be feared and worshipped, all living creatures to tremble at the sight of her—all men to fall on their knees by the will of her…

 

 

“She’s the sweetest little thing in the world,” Deron admitted to himself as he watched his nine-year-old daughter run through the garden calling, “Mummy … Mummy.”

Despite the darkness of her curls, they radiated light as they bounced up and down. Sunshine played on her face and her lips curved into a glowing smile. Mischief sparkled in her deep light-blue eyes, giving a glimpse of his daughter’s true nature. Her expression turned even brighter as she stretched out her hands and proudly revealed an exotic purple flower.

“Amira, sweetie, where did you get that?” His wife examined the blossom in the child’s small palm and narrowed her eyes.

Instantly Deron knew the answer—she hadn’t found it. Once again their daughter was playing with magic, doing tricks even his beloved Eliana couldn’t—a witch strong and talented, who had practiced her art for many years.

Amira’s smile widened, but not a sound of explanation flew out. They both knew the look only too well. The little tinker was up to something.

“It doesn’t belong here. Why don’t you take it back?” Eliana suggested.

Surprisingly, the little one obeyed.

“I am scared, Deron,” his wife confessed, the fear for their daughter’s safety etched in the lines of her delicate face. Worry and concern casting a shadow over her beautiful eyes.

He took her into his arms, trying to stay strong for her, to comfort her as best as he could. The truth was, he knew those fears all too well.

A few years ago, the Order of Venlordia had renewed their witch hunts. No longer were the friars satisfied with sermons, it seemed. No longer were they leading people to salvation with the help of prayers and faith. They had raised a sword in the name of a sacred cause—to eradicate the evil.

It was a ludicrous lie the Venlordians spread to justify their actions. Every few hundred years or so, they raised impious war against witches, be they good or evil. They didn’t differentiate. Worse still, thousands of innocents suffered at their hands. And now the bloodshed was commencing all over again.

“You are safe here, you both are,” Deron tried to reassure his wife. If he was certain of anything, it was this place; and the people of Trinton, who would protect their daughter no matter what. He relied on them, just as they relied on him and his family.

They all contributed. All did their share in keeping the town clean and free of marauding witch-hunters and the self-imposed law of the Venlordians. Something he wished he could relieve his whole country of.

Unfortunately their organization ran deep, deeper than any of them thought. Even his brother-in-law, the king himself, began to squirm uneasily in his throne. No wonder Eliana was afraid.

“Mummy, mummy.” Amira’s tearful voice shook Deron.

“What is it, sweetie?” her parents asked, almost in unison.

“Please, help her,” she begged, “help her…”

Eliana immediately scanned the area looking for the “her” her daughter was so worried about—only there was no one around. Still, Amira kept crying. Pearls of pain were rushing down her pale cheeks. Her lips trembled. Hands shook.

Eliana cupped her daughter’s jaw, searching for an answer—pain was all she could sense, but she couldn’t fathom the origin of it. There was no wound to be seen, only cries of agony no child should suffer.

The shaking came next. Amira’s small, limp body quivered in her father’s arms and fresh sobs broke from within her, consuming her with the ferocity of a flood, with each wave taking her even deeper. For a second there, it seemed as if their daughter was about to choke, but then a line around her mouth thinned and a sound, strangled and foreign, escaped her parted lips.

Amira screamed.

The sound shook Eliana so deeply, she gasped, trying to take a breath into her frozen lungs. Tears filled her eyes. She heard grief and she heard terror coming out of her daughter’s throat—in someone else’s voice.

“What’s happening?” Deron demanded, carrying their girl inside, straight to her soft little bed.

“I don’t know.” Eliana blinked the fog from her eyes, only to see Amira convulsing with pain. “I don’t know.” A feeling of uselessness overwhelmed her. She was supposed to know these things, be able to make them go away, but the fact was she knew nothing about what was happening, and even less about what she should do.

A potion! She needed to make a potion, Eliana murmured under her breath, prepared to rush back to her room for the herbs. She wiped her tears with trembling fingers, pivoted, and almost smashed into Giles.

The elderly man gently righted her, and without so much as a word put something in her hands. Eliana looked at his offering for a moment, not comprehending what she was holding. Then she exhaled.

“Thank you.” She hugged the butler fiercely, grateful beyond words. If only she knew what to use—Eliana’s next thought made her hands tremble even more fiercely.

She didn’t see Giles’s concerned expression anymore, or any of the pale faces standing behind the man. Eliana focused her attention on Amira—a thrashing and moaning girl, whose hands fought an invisible foe.

Her daughter’s face was twisted with pain, her eyes red from crying. She kept pleading for help for someone, but whoever it was lived in Amira’s dreams alone. Or nightmares, Eliana thought, picking a catnip plant from the vast collection of herbs she kept. She hesitated to choose a second herb, glanced at her husband’s expectant gaze, and swallowed a new lump of trepidation. What if she chose the wrong one? What if she harmed her little angel? Eliana had never felt so lost before. Utterly unable to identify the cause of such terrible pain.

“You can do it,” Deron whispered, his belief in her giving her strength.

Eliana nodded, mixed the herbs and began the chant. She forced her daughter to consume the potion, all the while desperately praying for a miracle. A prayer that was joined by a dozen more people as the entire mansion kept vigil on their little lady’s sleep.

All the servants gathered in the hall, waiting. Some of them sat quietly. Some paced with their heads bowed, hands clenched in fists. Others simply watched the closed doors. But all of them hoped to hear those doors opening. Hoped to see black curls bouncing, and that sweet face laughing.

Sadly, none of that happened.

When Amira finally came out of her room she was just a shadow of the sweet girl they all knew and loved.

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Book Seven Update

Book Seven Update

I’m closing in on 50,000 words in the latest Dream Series book.  I’ve been writing ahead; the bit I’m currently working on will be chapter 13 or 14, depending on how things go.

Here’s a very brief snippet for you…

She turns away from the old door and heads for Ben’s room.  With another deep breath, she turns the knob, opens the door and she steps – outdoors?

Outdoors.  Definitely.  She knows this is her son’s dream, but it takes her a moment to orient herself.  She’s on the playground of the elementary school.  She sees Ben immediately, bundled up in his winter clothes, talking to a little red-haired girl.  That must, she realizes, be Celia.  She’s got on a big coat and a bright green scarf, but no hat to cover her hair, which is whipping around in the wind.  Sara approaches slowly, listening to Celia giving instructions to her son.  “Stand still, and close your eyes.  OK?”  As Sara watches, drawing closer, Ben obeys.  Celia grabs his arms, leans down a bit – she’s half a head taller than him – and quickly kisses his cheek. “There!  Now you’re my boyfriend.  That’s what Julia says.  If I kiss you, then you’re my boyfriend.  That means you have to – uh, I’m not sure.  Julia never said what you have to do now.  But I’ll ask her tonight, and then I’ll tell you what you’re supposed to do.  OK?”

“OK,” Ben agrees, an embarrassed grin on his face.  Sara shakes her head; it’s just too cute for words.  But she can’t enjoy the moment – Celia isn’t really here, this is just an image, a memory of her son’s.  She calls out to him, and it takes several tries before she gets his attention.  When he finally hears her, his eyes go wide.

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Cover Reveal – “Uncovering You” by Scarlett Edwards

Cover Reveal – “Uncovering You” by Scarlett Edwards

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Title – Uncovering You

Author: Scarlett Edwards

Genre – Dark Romance
Release Date – March 27th, 2014
Cover Reveal – February 18th, 2014
Series – first book in series.  Second will be out April 20th, 2014.
Synopsis-
When I wake up in a dark, unfamiliar room, I have no idea what’s waiting for me in the shadows. My imagination conjures up demons of the worst kind.
Reality is much worse:
A collar with no leash. A prison with no walls. And a life stripped of meaning.
 
I am presented with a vile contract and asked to sign. It outlines the terms of my servitude. The only information I have about my captor are the two small letters inked at the bottom:
J.S.
Armed with only my memories, I must do everything I can to avoid becoming ensnared in his twisted mind games. But in the end, it all comes down to one choice:
Resist and die.
Or submit, and sign my life away
GoodReads Link:
Excerpt:
“Lilly.”
Oh God. It’s him. There’s no mistaking that rich, masculine treble.
What’s he doing down here?
“M-Mr. Stonehart,” I stutter, turning. I curse my inability to hide my surprise. He totally caught me off-guard. I have to look up to meet his eyes. Then up some more.
The face that I find is so striking it should belong to a Greek god.
He’s younger than I expected. Late thirties, maybe early forties.
That means he started his company when he was younger than me!
Dark scruff lines his angular cheeks. His jet-black hair is styled in long, natural waves. My fingers itch to run through it.
Totally inappropriate.
He has a prominent nose that might be too big on a less imposing man, but on him, it’s perfect.
In short, he’s a package of the purest masculinity I’ve ever seen.
And then there are his eyes. Oh my God. His eyes. They pierce into me like honing missiles. They are the deepest black I have ever seen. They would be frightening if they weren’t so beautiful. When the light reflects a certain way, you catch a glimpse of the purple underneath.
They are like midnight sapphires. His eyes reveal a cunning intellect. Those eyes do not miss a thing.
Add all that to his towering height, his wide shoulders, his confident-yet-at-ease posture… and Stonehart cuts an intimidating figure.
My gaze darts to his left hand before I can stop it. No ring. He’s unmarried.
He looks down at me, expectantly. His eyes narrow ever so slightly, and I feel like I’m being dissected, measured up, and tucked away in some small corner of his brain. I imagine this is what a gemstone feels like under the magnifying class of the most critical appraiser.
Stonehart clears his throat. I come to with a start, realizing I haven’t said anything in ages. I open my mouth, but the capacity for speech seems like a foreign concept to my brain. “I—”
Somebody bumps into me from behind. I stagger forward. I’m not used to these shoes, so my heel steps the wrong way. My ankle twists under me, and I start to fall.
I don’t fall far. The hand still on my elbow tightens, and Stonehart pulls me into him.
I plaster myself onto the solid steel wall the man has for a body. I catch a scent of his cologne. It’s a deep, musky smell with a hint of charred spruce that is all male. It scrambles my thoughts even more.
“Sorry!” a rushed voice calls out. From the corner of my eye, I see the postman giving a hurried, apologetic wave.
Although the sequence lasts less than a second, it feels like an eternity. Pressed up against him like that, I don’t want to move. I know that I couldn’t have made a worse first impression.
Stonehart eases me off him with a firm yet gentle grip. Our eyes meet. I flush the most vibrant red. His fingers graze my forehead as he brushes a lock of hair out of my face.
Any tenderness I may have imagined vanishes when Stonehart takes out his cell. He long dials a key and growls an order. “Steven. See the delivery boy leaving right now? Have his building pass revoked.”
I gape. Stonehart keeps speaking. “Wait. I thought of one better. Bar his company from accessing the building.” There’s a pause. “For how long? Indefinitely. FedEx can talk to me when they have an improved employee selection program in place.”
The phone call gives me just enough time to compose myself. My heart’s still beating out of my chest. But nobody has to know that.
I speak without thinking. “You’re going to restrict the entire company from serving this building because of that?”
Stonehart humors me with an answer. “A company’s employees are its most important asset. Their behavior reflects the organization as a whole. If FedEx decided that clown is good enough for them, it tells me they’re sloppy. I do not do business with sloppy organizations.”
“What about the other tenants in the building?” I ask. “Won’t that piss them off?”
When I hear myself and realize how improper my question is, my cheeks flame red again.
Stonehart’s eyes darken, as if he cannot believe I asked that question. I open my mouth to apologize for my imprudence, hating the way my professional skills have evaporated into thin air. I’m cut off by a short, barked laugh.
“Miss Ryder.” He sounds amused. “I believe that is the most direct and honest question anybody has dared ask me in weeks.” He takes my elbow again and leads me to the elevators. I have to take two quick steps to match one of his long strides.
“Yes,” he continues. “They will be ‘pissed off.’ But the perk of owning a building—” he hits the elevator call button, “—is that you get to make executive decisions.” He gives me an unreadable glance as the doors open. “That is, at the risk of being questioned by inexperienced interns.”
If that isn’t a loaded remark, I don’t know what is. I flush scarlet red for the third time since I’ve met him. I’ve never had a man throw me so off balance.
The elevator is packed, for which I’m infinitely thankful. The trip up will give me some time to properlycompose myself.
Gratitude turns to panic when the crowd files out, meek as mice, when Stonehart steps in. None of the people waiting in the lobby follow us.
The doors close. I’m alone in here with him. My heart’s beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.
He catches me staring. “Impressed?” he asks.
“They know you,” I manage.
His dark eyes flash with amusement. “Astute.”
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About the Author
I’m Scarlett Edwards. I wrote my first book as a college sophomore. After six months of edits, it made its debut as Yours to Savor.

 

That was at the start of 2013. I’ve written more books since then. You can find them all here.

 

It’s funny how quickly life changes. I used to think I’d need a degree to get a “Real Job.” Then I wrote a few books, they got somewhat popular, and now I’m living the life as a full-time romance author.

 

Thanks to all my readers for making my dreams come true!

 

Stalker Links

 

Giveaway Details
1 Kindle Paperwhite
3 – $50 Visa GC’s
5 – $20 Amazon or Nook GC’s
10 – Audiobooks of Uncovering You
20 – Signed paperbacks of Uncovering You
50- Digital copies of all of Scarlett’s books (Change of Heart, Change of Heart Part 2, Never Let Go, Yours to Savor, Uncovering You)

 

Cover Reveal organized by:
5n4sa0

 

 

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Winter’s Tale

Winter’s Tale

I saw the movie today.  I was very disappointed (even though I had every reason to expect it wouldn’t be good based on the trailers and virtually every review I’d read).

The book is my favorite novel ever, so it really bothered me on the level of lack of faithfulness, and choices that made no sense at all to me in adapting the story (see my posts about adapting books to film – part 1, part 2, part 3 and part 4).

Let’s start with the movie on its own terms; I’ll try to approach it without the book in mind.  The movie is the story of Peter Lake (Colin Farrell): orphan, thief, and outcast from the gang that had taken him in.  After a brief narration setting up the magical “rules” of the story (each star in the sky is an angel, more or less; each person has one miracle in them, which is meant for a specific person; there’s an ongoing war between the forces of good and evil), and a quick scene cutting from present day Grand Central Station (where an unkempt Farrell pores through a tiny room hidden in the ceiling of the station) to 1895, where the infant Peter Lake is put into a tiny boat and sent off, while his immigrant parents are sent back (due to having consumption).

We then move to 1916, and Peter is on the run from Pearly Soames (Russell Crowe) and his criminal gang, the Short Tails (although I’m not sure they’re actually named in the movie).  Peter escapes with the aid of a mysterious white horse, who then leads him to the house of Beverly Penn (Jessica Brown-Findlay), daughter of a newspaper publisher (William Hurt, playing the role as though he was anesthetized, as usual for him), and also consumptive.

It’s love at first sight, which is good for Beverly (who’s never even been kissed before, and would kind of like to be before she dies), sad for Peter (meeting your one true love and learning that she’s got weeks to live would be rather a bummer) and quite vexing for Pearly (who fears that if Peter uses his one miracle to save Beverly, it’ll upset the balance between good and evil in good’s favor permanently, which is not good news if you’re a fully-fledged demon, as we discover Pearly is).

I won’t give away the whole story, just in case you want to go see it for yourself, but suffice to say, we meet a few more angels and demons in 1916, there are confrontations and there’s tragedy, and then we jump ahead a century to the present day, and poor amnesiac, unshaven Peter in Grand Central Station, where he (and we) learn that destiny isn’t always what we expect, and he’s still got work to do, which involves newspaper columnist Virginia Gamely (a tragically underused Jennifer Connelly) and her cancer-stricken daughter.

I don’t even know where to start with the problems with the movie.  On a surface level, some of the dialogue is cringe-worthy (“I’ve had no memory for as long as I can remember)), Colin Farrell’s hair is too awful for words, Russell Crowe’s accent is all over the place, and his facial tics are distracting well past the point of reason, and the less said about Will Smith and his two scenes, the better.  And there are obvious, glaring lapses in logic: we see baby Peter in 1895, and catch up with him in 1916 when he’s turned into Colin Farrell.  I’m sorry, but Colin Farrell does not believably look 21 years old!  Similarly, when we meet Eva Marie Saint in the present day and it’s revealed that she’s the elderly version of a character we see as a child in 1916…well, it’s not that hard to do math.  Eve Marie Saint may not look quite the same as she did in “North by Northwest” but she certainly doesn’t look 107 years old, either (although i suspect this is partly due to the fact that there’s a similar issue in the book, except that the “present day” section of the book – which was written in 1983 – takes place in 1999.  A 92 year old still heading up the dynastic family business stretches credibility, but it’s more believable than a 107 year old!)

On a story level, the opening narration over-explains the “rules” but then as we learn more, things that ought to be explained are left hanging (why can’t Pearly and his minions leave New York City?  what’s the deal with the shaman who helpfully explains to Peter who and what his horse really is?  etc.).  We never get a reasonable motive for Pearly’s overwhelming hatred of Peter Lake, either.

The love story, too, falls flat.  There’s chemistry between Farrell and Findlay, but there’s literally one scene between them, and then they’re lovers devoted to each other for life – and after.  There needed to be more time spent on them, before they meet her father, both to make things believable, and to develop the relationship and get the audience to care.  As it stands, it happens too quickly, and there’s simply not enough done to invest the audience in them as a couple (or in any other characters in the movie, really).

I’d say, sadly, it fails on its own merits.  And as an adaptation of an amazing book…?

It fails even more.  I understand – the book is 800 pages long, spans a century, has over a hundred characters, and covers very deep philosophical ground.  There’s no way you can tell the book’s story in two hours.  Maybe in four hours, you’d have a shot – I can visualize how I might approach that.  But two hours?  Take an epic movie – “Gone With the Wind”, or “Ben Hur” or to jump to the 21st century, the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy.  Think about what you’d have to cut to get those movies down to an hour and fifty-eight minutes (less, counting the opening and closing credits).  At some point, you’ve taken away so much of what makes them what they are that what’s left isn’t even a story anymore.

For “Winter’s Tale”, they threw out pretty much the entire final 3/4 of the book (the tale of Peter and Beverly takes up the first 1/4 or so, before we jump to the end of the 20th century.  And they threw out most of Peter’s childhood and adolescence (the “shaman” I mention above is a reference to Peter’s first 12 years among the Baymen of the Bayonne Marsh; Peter’s aptitude for machines is a holdover from his apprenticeship with the Very Reverend Mootfowl; his time with Pearly and the Short Tails from age 18 or so until his early 30’s, the many things he learned, relationships he developed, and the reason for his break with Pearly are entirely ignored).

And even the development of Peter and Beverly’s relationship is cut short, although that’s supposedly the main plotline of the film.  There are a few scenes taken verbatim from the book (Peter’s first conversation with Beverly’s father), but so much was left out.  And, what I don’t understand, some scenes that both would have fit with what the filmmakers seemed to be trying to do (and which would have been quite cinematic) were dropped as well.  The initial chase where Peter escapes from the Short Tails on horseback was far more involved – and entertaining – in the book.  The New Year’s Eve dance in the book would have worked perfectly well in place of what the film did, and served the same ends – I can’t figure out why they did it that way.

And the gutting of the entire philosophical basis of the story and the worldview espoused by it, replaced by “we all have a miracle inside us, and one day we’ll all become stars” is just – I’m sorry, but it’s dreadful.  Even more so because the writer/director/producer, Akiva Goldsman, really does seem to have read and understood the book (at least if this interview is any indication).

One thing about adaptations that, to me, is a good judge of how well they did, is, do the choices the filmmakers made, make sense?  You can disagree with them, but if they’re at least defensible, then the adaptation did a good job.  And I really don’t think you can say that for this film.

Whether you have or haven’t read the book, I honestly can’t recommend the film to anyone…

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Indie Author Spotlight – Nicoline Evans and “Haemans”

Indie Author Spotlight – Nicoline Evans and “Haemans”

I’ve got another great indie author for you this morning – Nicoline Evans, with her novel “Haemans”

Nicoline

 

My name is Nicoline and I love to invent new worlds for readers to get lost in. My goal while writing is to create a safe place for people to forget about the heavy things in their own lives, even if it is only for a few hours of the day. 

I graduated from Rutgers University – New Brunswick, NJ as a communications major. After taking every creative writing course they offered, I realized writing was my passion. 

Random things about me? I am a certified scuba diver, I revel in new adventures, and I believe in all things magical. 
You can follow her at her website, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.
And here’s her book…
1
Unbeknownst to the rest of the world, Russia has undergone drastic changes. When descendants of the lost royals are discovered, they are thrust into the spotlight. They use their power to corrupt the population, turning those who succumb to their addiction into freakishly strong and morally unhinged individuals. These addicts are known as haemans. Those who escape this terrifying new culture must live hidden in the forested outskirts, far away from the danger that now engulfs the cities. HAEMANS follows the tragic love story between one escapee and one haeman.
You can buy the book at Amazon.com.
And, I’ve got a great interview with Nicoline…
Who is your favorite author? I don’t have a favorite, but I really enjoy Neil Gaiman’s writing. 
How do you describe your writing style? I would describe my writing style as whimsical. I like to add a component of darkness to everything I write. I think it is important to keep this element alive within writing because it encompasses some of the strongest forms of emotion. And I think it is important to be reminded that no one is alone in their sadness. 
Use no more than two sentences. Why should we read your book? “Haemans” will captivate you on levels you never knew existed. It is a novel filled with deep sorrow, wrapped up in an enticing package of fantasy, adventure, and thrill. 
Have any of your characters been modeled after yourself? No. None of my characters are based of me or anyone I know. I do take elements of emotions I have felt, or seen loved ones go through, then warp them into the stories I create. Everything is better with a fantastical twist.
If you could exchange lives with any of your characters for a day which character would you choose and why? Yikes. Not sure I’d want any of their lives! But I suppose I would choose Princess Milena. She is the least emotionally tortured character of the bunch.
What books have most influenced your life? Probably a typical answer, but the Harry Potter series. I often dream of living in that world.
If you could select one book that you could rewrite and add your own unique twist on, which book would that be and why? I don’t really like the idea of changing other people’s creations. It is what it is for a reason. But if I had to take a story I genuinely enjoyed and put my spin on it, I could see myself taking “Everlost” by Neal Shusterman and adding a more adult aspect to it. Possibly making it a bit more dire, creepy, twisted.
Beatles or Monkees? Why? THE BEATLES. Forever and ever. Can’t even be compared to the Monkees. The Beatles music touches people’s souls in ways that will resonate until the end of time. Besides creating amazing melodies, their lyrics hit the most fundamental human emotions that are often times over looked. For example: “In My Life”. Just read those lyrics and tell me you aren’t moved.
Who should play you in a film of your life?  Oh man, no clue. Probably someone who is still undiscovered. I’ve never thought about this, so I’ll need to get back to you!
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Book Tour – “An Arrangement of Love” by Kenya Wright

Book Tour – “An Arrangement of Love” by Kenya Wright

arrangement An Arrangment of Love 1
Title: An Arrangement of Love
Author: Kenya Wright
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance and New Adult
Publisher: K. Wright Press
Cover Artist: Najla Qambar
But on Amazon:
Synopsis:

 

 

He kissed me. And not just any kiss. He kissed me like he owned me, as if he bought me last night and my orgasm was the payment. His tongue didn’t explore my mouth instead it taunted me, gliding in and out between my lips in a rhythm that reminded me of hot sex. He shifted his hand to the back of my head and trapped me to him. My bag and its contents dropped to the floor. . .

 

 

What would you do for six figures?

 

 

Billionaire Chase Stone offers Jasmine a six-figure job that requires a full-time commitment in his office as well as his bed. If only she knew that before she agreed, then life would’ve been easier. It’s not that he’s unattractive. Jasmine just didn’t graduate from Harvard with honors so she could be some rich guy’s over paid mistress. What’s even more repulsing is that he lives with three women and wants her to be the fourth.

 

 

Not going to happen!

But Chase won’t give up, and Jasmine won’t give in. Someone’s going to have to change because the more they meet, the more something thick, hot, and electric bridges between them, until neither can breathe or think.

About the Author:
 kenya
Kenya Wright always knew she would be famous since the ripe old age of six when she sang the Michael Jackson thriller song in her bathroom mirror. She has tried her hand at many things from enlisting in the Navy for six years as a Persian-Farsi linguist to being a nude model at an art university.
However, writing has been the only constant love in her life. Will she succeed? Of course.
For she has been coined The Urban Fantasy Queen, the Super Iconic Writer of this Age, The Lyrical Genius of Our Generation. Granted, these are all terms coined by her, within the private walls of her bathroom as she still sings the Michael Jackson thriller song.
Kenya Wright currently resides in Miami with her three amazing, overactive children, a supportive, gorgeous husband, and three cool black cats that refuse to stop sleeping on Kenya’s head at night.
AND, here’s an interview with Kenya…

Who is your favorite author?

 
Dang. Pretty difficult. I’ll cheat and say my top four: Ilona Andrews, Megan Martin, Laini Taylor, and Kim Harrison. All of the authors tend to elevate regular plotlines and teach me a whole lot about writing
just from their story construction.

How do you describe your writing style?
Fast-paced. If that is a style. lol.
I’m an action junkie so I would say that all of my books have a sort of edge-of-the-seat feel, even my contemporary erotic romances. 
I like things to happen, too much down time is hard for me to write and read. 

Use no more than two sentences. Why should we read your book?
I wrote this particular romance because it wasn’t out there, and then filled it within the back drop of murders and scandalous decisions. 

Have any of your characters been modeled after yourself?
Every main character I’ve written shares traits with me, even though I desperatly try my best not to do it. For example, in this book, Jasmine is a huge Foodie. I am too.
 

If you could exchange lives with any of your characters for a day which character would you choose and why?
Oh my! I have a lot of characters. I feel like they’re all hovering over and staring down at me, just waiting for me to yell out one of their names. I would have to say an odd answer, Brie. She’s a queen in my Vampire King Trilogy which is sort of high fantasy novellas with very different sort of vampires. I like Brie because not only is she about revolution for her species, she’s absolutely adored by the two men that really love her.

What books have most influenced your life?
The Carpet Makers by Andreas Eschbach.  This book changed my life. Due to it, I spend weeks coming up with the lesson about life that I want any of my stories to convey, even my erotic romances. If
I’m going to take time out of someone’s day, by letting them read my stories. . .I would love for them to learn as well as be entertained.

If you could select one book that you could rewrite and add your own unique twist on, which book would that be and why?
Fifty Shades of Grey. I would love to rewrite it and add my special things to the story line. Lots of romance writers and readers hate the novel. I don’t despise it, but I do remember reading 
the story and fixing things in my head. I would’ve developed the characters way more and had them delve deeper into the BDSM world, in a healthier way.

Beatles or Monkees? Why?
Beatles!!!  They’re hotter. Sorry Mickey!

Who should play you in a film of your life?
Hmmm. I’m so narcissitic. I think about this all the time. lol.

I say Kerry Washington from Scandal. She’ll need to have dreadlocks though or I’ll go off in the media like a crazy woman (similar to Anne Rice).

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Indie Author Spotlight – Angela Kay Austin and “Rumer”

Indie Author Spotlight – Angela Kay Austin and “Rumer”

Here’s another great indie author I’d like you to meet…Angela Kay Austin…

AKA 2013_3

Angela Kay Austin has always expressed herself through words.  An infatuation with music and theater led to years playing music and extra roles in TV shows before giving way to a degree and career in radio and TV production.  After completing a second degree in marketing, Angela found herself combining her love for communications and marketing and worked in advertising and promotions for many years.  But, writing called again, which led to her first published work, which hit the best seller list for her publisher and All Romance Ebooks.   Contact Angela — website: http://www.angelakayaustin.com/, blog: www.angelakayaustin.blogspot.com

You can follow her at her website and on Facebook.  Oh, and of course, on Twitter, too.

And here’s her book, “Rumer”

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Rumer Wilson married the love of her life ten years ago, has two beautiful children, and what she believes is a wonderful life to prove it. But, does anybody ever control love? Her world spirals into an unfamiliar place of uncertainty for everything she holds dear, when her husband falls in love with a woman hiding secrets.

Sebastian Ortiz has loved many women. Rumer is a means to an end. He doesn’t want to hurt her, but he needs her – for revenge on the man who hurt his sister – the sister he’s protected from harm his whole life.

Neither Rumer nor Sebastian could imagine what comes next…

You can buy it, right now, RIGHT HERE!

If you want a little taste first, Angela has very kindly given us an excerpt…

Baths were given. She read Maddie her favorite bedtime story, and turned on Tyler’s musical dancing lights. She showered, and then put on her pajamas.

Then she stopped. She stood in front of the mirror hanging on the back of her closet door, and she stared at herself. Next to Gabriela, she looked like a man. It had been six months since Tyler was born. She hadn’t lost the baby weight, yet, and it showed in her round hips and belly. She hadn’t done anything to her hair. She cut it and wore it in a pony-tail most of the time.  She never wore make-up, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a spa for anything. Who had the time? She was a full-time mom—cook, maid, chauffeur, butler, teacher, and nurse.

Tugging at her stained blue flannel pajamas with little yellow ducks, she wondered if any man would think they were sexy. They were a gift Luke and Maddie had bought her for Mother’s Day, and they were comfy. Hurriedly, she tore them off, and searched through her dresser for something silky and more grown up. The only thing she could find was a black full slip she would normally wear to church under one of her dresses.

Rumer assessed herself again, and thought much better. The black slip had thicker bra-like straps, but the silky fabric flowed softly over her breasts and hips. It had a little split on the right side, and a little strip of lace encircled the hem. She sprayed a little cucumber melon body spray on her skin; turned the radio on to one of her favorite jazz stations, and lit some vanilla scented candles. Then she focused on the bed. Snatching at the covers, she searched through the linen closet for the black satin sheets that she knew were there somewhere.

They’d never used them.

She waited in bed propped up by black satin covered pillows, and waited for her husband to come home.

At 11:30 P.M., she heard the chime of the alarm system. Luke walked down the hall to Maddie’s room, then to Tyler’s, and finally he came to their room. She couldn’t hear his footsteps, but she knew his routine. The same thing every night.

Rumer sprang from bed, and bounced into her husband’s arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and attempted to kiss him.

He kissed her on the cheek before pushing her away. “I’m tired. I had a long day at work and then I had to drop by the church, too. I really want to go to sleep.”

She retreated at his rejection. Pulling at the bottom of her slip, she tried to stretch it to cover the rest of her body, but it wouldn’t budge. The lace at the bottom ripped. She grabbed her fluffy robe from the walk-in closet, and stood there in the closet doorway, watching as Luke undressed to his boxers, prayed, and then climbed into bed and covered himself with the covers.

He buried his face in the pillows, and conceded an unintelligible, “Good night.”

“Good night.” Rumer left the room, and padded barefoot down the carpeted hallway to the laundry room. Instantly, the overpowering smell of detergent and fabric softener flooded her senses. The chill of the tiled laundry room floor cooled her feet. She reached into the wooden cabinet behind the laundry detergent, and removed the letters Gabriela had given her. Leaning against the dryer with the pages crushed to her heart, she sobbed.

Rumer cried until she had no more tears to shed.

She checked on her son, and then walked into her daughter’s room where she curled up next to her on her tiny twin bed and prayed, “Give me the strength.”

She closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep. Maybe it was all a dream.

Pretty cool, but we’re not done.  I’ve also got a great interview with Angela…

Who is your favorite author?  I love so so many authors, that it is hard to narrow it down to one.  But, some of my favorites are: Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou, Terry McMillan, Nalini Singh, J.R. Ward, Jane Green.  I think they speak to the many different sides of me, and my interests from Contemporary to Paranormal.

How do you describe your writing style?  I think my writing style is a mash-up of the many different things I like to read.  My books, normally, tackle an “issue” that most women face.  Around that point of interest, I weave together my story which may be set in today’s day and time, or like the piece I’m currently working on, may be set in the past.

Why should we read your book?  Because my books take the reader on an emotional journey with the main character.  A journey that will leave the reader filling fulfilled and satisfied.

Have any of your characters been modeled after yourself? No. Not after me, but because my heroines are African-American women, their stories are told through my lens.  My stories are carved from bits and pieces of what is happening in the world around us: news broadcasts, newspaper articles, what I see and hear as I walk down the street.

If you could exchange lives with any of your characters for a day which character would you choose and why? Victoria.  I still love Chad Michael Kirkpatrick!  I would love to swap out with her for just one day.

What books have most influenced your life?  The Poisonwood Bible, The Bluest Eye…books that teach as well as entertain always leave an impression on me.

If you could select one book that you could rewrite and add your own unique twist on, which book would that be and why?  I don’t think I’ve ever been asked this question before.  I know there are several movies I could give a quick answer to with this question, but with books…not sure.  I tend to read books by authors that I love, or that I’ve received a recommendation for, and I don’t think I’d change anything.  I’m reading something now, “The Yellow House,” the main character has experienced a ton of loss, and I would like to bring one of the characters back to life, but because I haven’t finished the book, I don’t know my opinion on that might change, later.

Beatles or Monkees? Why?  Monkees. I saw some of their shows in reruns, and they were funny.  And I worked for a radio station, and had the chance to meet them when they were on one of the reunion tours.  They were pretty nice.

Who should play you in a film of your life? Halle Berry, of course.

 

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Art and Terrible People

Art and Terrible People

This has nothing to do with my writing, or with any other authors I personally know; it’s just a topic that’s been in the news and occasionally on my mind.

What’s the proper response to art (whether it’s a book, a movie, a symphony or a pop song or anything else) that’s created by someone who’s (by whatever definition) a horrible person, a criminal, or even by general acclamation, a monster?

The latest accusations against Woody Allen are the immediate reason that I’m thinking about this, but it’s a topic that I come back to every so often, and certainly not limited either to Allen, or to movies.  There are countless examples of pop singers who have committed crimes ranging from domestic abuse all the way up to murder, and it’s hardly a modern phenomenon.  Going back a century and a half, my favorite composer (Richard Wagner) was a pretty awful human being, an anti-semite, and on and on (whole books – heck, whole bookshelves! – have been written on the subject).

Where does that leave us, as the audience for the art of these rotten people?  Should I throw away my DVD of “Midnight in Paris” because Woody Allen is possibly a child molester?  I don’t know the answer.  Should I turn off the TV when “Chinatown” comes on, even though it is a great film, because Roman Polanski is not only a rapist, but completely unapologetic about it?  And what about the people who defend them, or even attack their victims publicly?  What to think about them?

If a friend or co-worker did what Allen is accused of, or what Polanski did, I – and most people, I think/hope – would want nothing to do with them on a personal level.  But that doesn’t answer the question.  Should we boycott/ignore/shun the art of people who we condemn for their acts?

To put some distance to the question, consider a ridiculous hypothetical.  If it was discovered, with incontrovertible proof, that, days after completing the Mona Lisa, Leonardo murdered his model for the painting with his own bare hands, what would we, here in 2013, do?

Would the painting be any less of an artistic triumph?  Should it be removed from the Louvre?  Should it be destroyed?  Or is several hundred years’ distance enough to ignore (or excuse away) the sins of the creator and enjoy the work for itself?  And if so, is the passage of enough time the only consideration?  What exactly is the statute of limitations on great art created by evil people?

As I said, I don’t know the answer – and I don’t know if there is “an” answer.  But it’s a question worth thinking about…

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The Joy (or lack thereof) of Marketing

The Joy (or lack thereof) of Marketing

By far, the most difficult aspect of my self-publishing adventure has been the sales/marketing side.  In comparison, writing the books has been a piece of cake.

Not just cake; compared to selling the books, writing them has been an endless procession of wonderful, sugary, delicious desserts, one coming after the next.

Selling the books has been like going to the dentist, day after day, paying to have painful, unpleasant things done to you over and over, without Novocaine and with no end ever in sight.

I sort of knew this going in, but knowing it and experiencing it are two very different things.  I’ve read books about selling ebooks, and tried to follow various plans, and advertised in dozens of different places with varying (but mainly in their degree of failure) results, tried to learn how to promote myself on Facebook and Twitter and Goodreads, not to mention trying to figure out what one even does with/on Pintrest, Triberr and Google+.  Let’s not even talk about the other, newer social media sites that are springing up that us self-publishers need to learn about.

I’m not saying all this to while (OK, maybe a little), but just to talk about it.  I’m realizing more and more that my personality and my best skills are totally unsuited towards the task of “selling myself” and selling books.  Some people are natural self-promoters, and the various tasks on the sales side of self-publishing come more easily to them.  I’m not one of them.  It takes SO much more energy for me to engage in the business side of self-publishing than it does to write.

I’m going to put modesty aside just for a minute here: I AM a good writer.  I’m very proud of the books I’ve written, and I will stack them up, without embarrassment, against anybody else’s work.  But I am also a crummy self-publisher, and I think the best I can hope for is, with a LOT of work and much beating my head against a wall, to move up to being a mediocre self-publisher.

Anyway, that’s my confession/public therapy moment for the day!

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