Who am I?
Welcome to Literarily Speaking! I am a book blogger, book reviewer, author and CEO/Founder of Pump Up Your Book. Literarily Speaking is a smorgasbord of anything literary. I talk about books as well as host author interviews, guest posts and reviews. While my time is very limited running a business, I have little time to review so most of my reviews are from books I request although that might change. I am open to guest posts as long as the post pertains to anything literary - whether it be the publishing or the promoting process. If you want to be featured here with a guest post, email me at thewriterslife (at) gmail.com.
Meet Cooter!
Meet Cooter!

Meet Cooter, my tour coordinating helper. You want a tour? You have to go through him first! Okay, Cooter, do we tour this author? Woof! Woof!


postheadericon What is Growing Out of Your Ear by Angela Graham Book Blitz – Win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


Title: What is Growing Out of Your Ear

Author: Angela Graham

Publisher: AuthorHouse

Pages: 24

Genre: Children’s Fiction

Format: Ebook

Purchase at AMAZON

It is summer and Angela eats a bowl of cherries. After she swallows some cherry pits, her Grandpa warns what will happen — “A cherry tree will grow out of your ear.” Angela thinks that is silly. Do you believe a cherry tree can grow out of Angela’s ear? 



 Angela Graham lives in Ottawa, Canada with her husband, two lively children and their dog. She has enjoyed writing stories for her children since they were young to inspire the love of reading. Angela’s stories add a humourous twist to real life. This story is motivated from Angela’s own childhood.


Angela is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one $25 Amazon Gift Certificate or Paypal Cash.
  • This giveaway begins September 1 and ends on September 13.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on Monday, September 16.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

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postheadericon Interview with Donna Galanti, author of ‘A Hidden Element’

Donna GalantiDonna Galanti writes murder and mystery with a dash of steam as well as middle grade adventure fiction. She is an International Thriller Writers Debut Author of the paranormal suspense novel A Human Element, the short story collection The Dark Inside, and Joshua and The Lightning Road.

She’s lived from England as a child, to Hawaii as a U.S. Navy photographer. Donna dreamed of being a writer when she fell in love with the worlds of Narnia and Roald Dahl attending school in a magical English castle where her dark imagination ran wild in an itchy uniform (bowler hat and tie included). She now lives in Pennsylvania with her family in an old farmhouse. It has lots of writing nooks, fireplaces, and stink bugs, but she’s still wishing for a castle again—preferably with ghosts.

Her latest book is the paranormal romance, A Hidden Element.

For More Information

About the Book:

A Hidden Element 2

When Caleb Madroc is used against his will as part of his father’s plan to breed a secret community and infiltrate society with their unique powers, he vows to save his oppressed people and the two children kept from him.

Seven years later, Laura and Ben Fieldstone’s son is abducted, and they are forced to trust a madman’s son who puts his life on the line to save them all. The enemy’s desire to own them—or destroy them—leads to a survival showdown.

Laura and Ben must risk everything to defeat a new nemesis that wants to rule the world with their son, and Caleb may be their only hope—if he survives. But must he sacrifice what he most desires to do so?

For More Information

  • A Hidden Element is available at Amazon.
  • Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.

Q: Thank you so much for this interview, Donna! Can you tell us where you are from?

All over. I was born in Ohio and adopted as an only child of my parents. We lived in England for a while and I retain my first memories there of writing and knowing that was all I wanted to do. We then moved to a campground in rural N.H. to fulfill my father’s dream of running a vacation spot. Eventually, my parents settled down to country living in the hills above Albany, New York known as the HeldebergMountains. We lived in a 200-year old farmhouse on acres of apple trees and falling-down barns. It was a child’s world to explore. I would roam the woods around our home with notebook and pen writing in fields and beside hidden ponds, and always with my two, frumpy dogs.

Q: How did you come up with your title?

From a vision just like the story! Both books one and two in my Element Trilogy, A Human Element and A Hidden Element, grew out of visions I had – one while driving, one while dreaming. And the titles came with them.

Q: They say you can judge a book by its cover. Can you tell us a little about your cover and who designed it?

I absolutely adore my cover! Ryan Doan did the covers for both book 1 and book 2 in the Element Trilogy. I gave him a few visions I had for A Hidden Element and shared the themes of the story, but he breathed life into it with color and layers I never imagined. It pops of thriller and sci-fi with a twist of darkness.

Q: Can you tell us something about your book that would make me run out and buy it?

I write from the dark side with a glimpse of hope and am drawn to writing the tormented hero’s journey – and tormented villain’s. I enjoy creating empathy for both by blurring the lines between good and evil. And I especially enjoy using the paranormal elements of mind control to shake the foundation of my character’s world. If you enjoy paranormal murder and mystery with a dash of steam you’ll enjoy A Hidden Element.

Q: Are there any messages in this book that you want the reader to know about?

A Hidden Element has several themes in it. Such as, seeking power through good leads to salvation OR on the flip side of that – seeking power through evildoing leads to self-destruction. A major message in the book is about how relinquishing the struggle to belong can lead to self-acceptance and internal peace.

Much of my life plays into my stories such as feeling like I didn’t belong because I was adopted. When you’re adopted you can feel like you don’t have blood roots and can roam around trying to find belonging. Some of my characters do the same. I connect with the nomad, the outsider, the alone one. Feeling abandoned is also an issue adopted children can have and it can be hard for them to commit to a relationship and fully trust. Several of my characters are abandoned and deal with it in extremely different ways. It colors their lives – good and bad.

Q: What was your most favorite chapter to write and why?

I loved writing any scene with Caleb, my tormented hero. I fell in love with him from the beginning – so much so that he became the main character! My favorite chapter with him was when he saved his only love, and then had to let her go.

Q: Why did you feel you had to write this book?

Book 2 in my paranormal suspense trilogy, A Hidden Element, was written after a dream. Readers had been asking for a sequel to book 1, A Human Element, but I couldn’t see it happening until I woke up one morning with the story all planned out in my head. It was a vision to be acted on, like the vision I had years before to write book 1. Is it any wonder my books have a paranormal element to them? So why write the paranormal? I am fascinated by the power of the brain and how little we use. Writing in the paranormal allows me to tap into the “what if”. What if we possessed the power to do the unbelievable? And what if we could use those powers to heal – or to kill? And what if these powers are inside us all along and all we have to do is to tap into them?

Q: Now, some fun questions – What deep dark secret would you like to share with us?

I’m adopted, which isn’t so dark and deep but the secrets that come with that are. Adoption, corruption, and secrecy have been a part of my real life tale, as well as the stories in my Element Trilogy books. Was I a black market baby? Was my natural father murdered? Did my natural mother murder her own mother? Read more about that here!

Q: If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?

Back to England. I lived there as a child long ago and fell in love with its medieval feel. One town we lived in was Cobham Surrey. We lived in the old caretaker’s house of this old grand estate called White Tops. It even came with a gardener. It was a place of days gone by where I’d walk down the country lane to school and feed horses along the way. Each day the fish man would bring kippers for breakfast and the milk man would drop glass bottles at our door…and clotted cream some days. I made my parents take me to Tintagel in Cornwall, the supposed castle ruins of King Arthur, because I love all things King Arthur. I’m planning to take my family to England in an upcoming trip. My son adores history and castles so it will be right up his alley!

Q: Are you a morning person or a night person?

Morning all the way! I am drooling by 9pm and often set my alarm for 4:30am to write. It’s my best time of day.

Q: Are there any members in your family who also like to write?

My son is an amazing writer, although he’ll tell you he’s an artist first.

Q: As a child, were you a dreamer?

As a child…and a teen…and a grown up. Daydreams, night dreams. My dreams as a child were so vivid and colorful that I kept a dream diary. Unfortunately, along with the fluffy, cupcake dreams there were also the nightmares of lava and machete men chasing me. You can read all about that here.

Q: Last but not least, the magic genie has granted you one wish. What would that be?

To be an amazing guitar player and country western singer! (I can hear my husband groan now at the thought).

Q: Thank you so much for this interview! Do you have any final words?

I am now plotting the third and final book in the Element Trilogy, A Healing Element, and also a young adult medieval fantasy series. I also write children’s books and in 2015 have the first two books coming out in my middle grade adventure fantasy series, Joshua and the Lightning Road. In book 1, Joshua Cooper learns the hard way that lightning never strikes by chance, when a bolt strikes his house and whisks him on an adventure to a world where stolen kids are work slaves for the frustrated heirs of the Greek Olympians. You can learn more about it here: www.donnagalanti.com

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postheadericon Interview with Tara Edin, author of memoir ‘Moonflower’ #memoir

Moonflower banner

Tara is an incest, rape and sexual assault survivor, a teacher, a wife, a mother, a Reiki master, and an author.

As a rape and sexual assault survivor, who struggled for many years, yet came out on the bright side, one of Tara’s goals is to help fellow survivors feel less alone, less crazy, and more inspired.

Tara spent much of her life feeling “wrong” and being quiet due to some very tough circumstances that shook her to the core. After a spiritual awakening on one of her darkest nights, Tara began to embrace her own power to transform past trials into dreams come true.

Writing her story has helped Tara retrieve her voice and find additional creative outlets. Publishing her book has simply made her story available to those who may benefit from it.

These days, Tara puts most of her energy into raising her two children, enhancing her creative life, and living her best life ever. But because she is a Survivor, Tara will always walk a healing path—healing for herself and for others.

For More Information

About the Book:

Moonflower 2Blooming was her Birthright. Darkness the Unexpected Catalyst.

Tara is an incest, rape and sexual abuse survivor, who suffered from PTSD for many years but was misdiagnosed with mental illnesses instead. This took her down a near-fatal path ultimately ending in an accident, which nearly claimed her life at age 29. Most only know the abridged version of the story, yet the real story holds many truths and miracles that must be shared. With a second lease on life, Tara faces the sexual abuse and betrayal from her younger years with support from a compassionate zen therapist. Tara begins to recreate her life with a new spirituality that feeds her soul and encompasses her painful past, giving life to the love that has always been her birthright. With lucid prose and powerful poetry, Tara details her soul’s transformation from darkness to light, offering her readers the gifts of honesty, empathy, and empowerment.

Moonflower is Part Memoir, Part Self-Help & Part Spiritual Odyssey.

Rape, incest and sexual assault are unspoken controversial topics that still fester behind closed doors in the 21st century as survivors are still being told to “Get over it,” or worse, “It didn’t even happen.” It takes years to heal from such life-altering, traumatic experiences, and many survivors are doing this work alone. There is a great need for testimonies from those who have emerged from their ordeals stronger.

This revealing story uncovers the aftermath of abuse that often leads to unstable relationships, repeated abuse, and mental or physical disease. Although Moonflower covers difficult topics such as emotional and sexual abuse, the author sifts through these experiences to offer her readers the gifts and lessons that can be drawn from such setbacks.

There is no cookie-cutter journey to healing, but there is great power in sharing our stories. Moonflower exhibits the power of the self and spirit in the healing process. It stretches beyond what may be considered a “normal” path and braves a non-traditional spiritual road to wellness, inspiring others to broaden their perspectives of the healing experience. Readers will be inspired by Tara’s fiery spirit and deep reflective soul, cheering her on as she finds her way back to herself.

For More Information

  • Moonflower: A Memoir of Healingis available at Amazon.
  • Pick up your copy at Barnes & Noble.
  • Watch the book trailer at YouTube.
  • Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.

Q: Thank you so much for this interview, Tara! Can you tell us where you are from?

Thank you so much for the interview! I was born and raised in San Diego, California and currently live in beautiful Carlsbad.

Q: How did you come up with your title?

One of my highly intuitive friends once told me my book would have a flower on the cover. Roses and orchids were always favorites but didn’t seem to fit. When I learned about the moonflower, I was intrigued. Moonflowers bloom only at night and rather quickly, within a matter of minutes. Because the turning point of my story occurs on my darkest night, the moonflower is a perfect symbol. In addition, I am a night owl and have always felt deeply connected to the moon and the psychic/unconscious powers that it symbolizes.

Q: They say you can judge a book by its cover. Can you tell us a little about your cover and who designed it?

I wanted the moonflower to be the focal point of the cover. Regina Wamba from www.MaeIDesign.com designed the moonflower cover image, capturing the essence of my story on the first draft with only a few minor changes.

Thanks, Regina!

Q: Can you tell us something about your book that would make me run out and buy it?

It’s real, it’s raw, and it’s remarkable. Moonflower is a story of survival and success with the fearlessness of Kill Bill and the introspection of Eat Pray Love. It connects the dots between victim, survivor, and healer.

Q: Are there any messages in this book that you want the reader to know about?

Moonflower is about making the conscious decision to heal oneself no matter what one has endured, and how the universe supports that intention. It does cover sensitive topics like sexual abuse, family dysfunction, depression, and suicide, yet the focus is on the healing journey rather than the initial traumas. My book shows ways I’ve transformed my life at its lowest point into one that is delightfully “normal.” Most “normal” people we come into contact with have integrated their pain or are hiding their scars. My book speaks to anyone who has ever been stuck in pain.

Q: What was your most favorite chapter to write and why?

My favorite chapter to write is titled “Life’s Mothers.” It discusses how when one aspect of life is lacking, the universe provides us with help to reach the next level. It highlights some of the women in my life who have nurtured and supported me when my own mother could not or did not. This chapter was special because my deceased dance teacher and my late mother-in-law stepped in to divinely guide my writing.

Q: Why did you feel you had to write this book?

At age 16, I had originally begun writing this account in a journal format. It was a cathartic vehicle for my emotional suffering after being raped. In the following years, I explored the idea of sharing it but stopped and started many times, still unsure of myself and my story’s significance. Eventually, I stopped questioning the Universe’s nudge to finish it and just resolved to see it through. If anything, I intended it for my children and their children to read much later in life as a record of where their mother/grandmother had been in her life. Sometimes I simply thought of tucking it away in a drawer indefinitely—completely safe but not very helpful. We are all here on Earth to learn and to help each other heal through our work. This story is part of my contract on Earth, and this gift can only provide assistance when shared. Today it is my intention to lend healing and insight through my story. If just one poem or sentence creates a soulful “hit,” I will have fulfilled a fraction of my purpose here on Earth.

Q: Now, some fun questions – What deep dark secret would you like to share with us?

All of my deep dark secrets are in the book! Okay, I am a chocolate addict.

Q: If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?

I would love to spend a summer in Tahiti in a secluded bungalow over the water just writing, reading, swimming, meditating, and laying out. It is a place I have often seen in my dreams.

Q: Are you a morning person or a night person?

I come alive at night. It’s when my best work happens almost by magic. It’s as if the night infuses me with renewed energy, even if I’ve had an exhausting day. Also, it’s the time when my house is so blessedly quiet!

Q: Are there any members in your family who also like to write?

My maternal grandfather loved the written word, but more the reading and singing of it rather than the writing. I don’t know of any passionate writers in my family on either side, although there have been a number of painters and artists on my paternal side.

Q: As a child, were you a dreamer?

Yes, I was a little dreamer, an introspective child. My friends and I loved writing stories and songs and playing pretend. Dreaming fueled and expressed my imagination… still does.

Q: Last but not least, the magic genie has granted you one wish. What would that be?

I would wish for child sexual assault to end once and for all.

Q: Thank you so much for this interview! Do you have any final words?

Thank you again for the interview. It was a lot of fun!


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postheadericon First Chapter Reveal: Two Empty Thrones by C.H. MacLean

Two Empty Thrones 2Title: Two Empty Thrones
Author: C.H. MacLean
Publisher: CNH Publishing
Pages: 242
Genre: YA Fantasy
Format: Paperback; Kindle

Purchase at AMAZON

With her powers growing every day, fourteen-year-old Haylwen Rightad thinks she’s safe in the magical forest. And now that she finally has the friends she always wanted, what is there to be afraid of?

But she’s not out of the woods yet. Old enemies rip through her beloved forest, threatening to haul Haylwen and her newfound friends away. Their safety shattered, Haylwen and her friends are suddenly at each other’s throats. Is the friendship she worked so hard for already ruined, or is there another, unseen enemy at work?

Haylwen and her brother must unmask this mysterious enemy before they can fight it off. But even if all their enemies are destroyed, the King of the magic users will stop at nothing to ensure he’s still in power when the dragons take over the world. And he’s hidden an enemy where Haylwen would never think to look.

If no one is what they seem, who can she trust?

First Chapter

Haylwen, Cadarn, the twins, and Nacia sat in a circle in the open grassy area where they usually met for martial arts practice. They used it for everything now. Today they were practicing sign language. It was quiet, only occasionally broken by a few words, if Cadarn asked a question.

Haylwen took a break and leaned back against the large oak behind her. Surrounded by the trees, the magical trees that somehow kept them safe from the monsters that chased them, she relaxed, hearing the birds and breeze through the leaves above her. Without trying, almost by reflex, she felt the energy of magic. She had been reading and practicing so much, the light leaped to her inner sight without effort. She could see clearly the light surrounding her, and her own bright and strong inner ball of light sitting in her chest.

She let her ball of internal energy grow and felt a tug. For a moment, she felt there were other places in her body where energy would form! She excitedly wondered if they might let her do more with magic. Does Cadarn or my father know? Maybe one of the books? She didn’t wait to ask.

She found one at her throat, touched another really big one at her head. Maybe it was more than one? She focused. Ok, there was the first one in my chest, one in my belly, and at least another one below that. She compared them and felt lines, strings maybe, connecting them. Haylwen suddenly realized they weren’t balls, but were more like pools of energy, with streams flowing back and forth between the pools. She looked at their pulsing movement, growing and shrinking. In another exciting realization, she saw them as tide pools being fed by the ocean of light all around her. They’re all connected!

Then she felt another one, a bigger one, just out of reach beyond her head. She imagined her top pool sending a little stream toward where she felt this other pool. She strained, but it slipped away. She relaxed, and it came closer. She let the stream wander its own way, which just happened to be toward the bigger pool. They touched.

Suddenly, she was swept along in a river. Her little stream grew in an instant, swallowing her in a flash flood. Terror twisted her stomach, but before she could even open her eyes, she stopped. She blinked. Or, at least, she thought she did. Am I awake or dreaming? Or finally gone completely crazy?

She stood on a small island, surrounded by a stream. The stream’s giggles whispered around her as it danced along its rocky bed. Other islands surrounded hers, with swift streams making their way along them, a network of water and earth. Each island had a single tree on it. Her island had a tall oak, and she could swear it was the same one she had been leaning against. She took the several steps to the water’s edge and looked into the rapidly moving water. Though it was running quickly, the water was so clear she could see sparkling stones on the bottom.

“Welcome!” a voice said from behind her.

Haylwen spun and saw an old man standing there, his arms crossed, smiling through his beard. His hair was long, dark brown, and snarled, but in such a pattern as to seem intentional. He wore a long robe of coarse fabric, shaded in browns. His eyes were amazingly bright green and shone in contrast against his brown skin. He stood right where the oak had been, the great tree that was now gone.

“Again we felt. You come.” He spoke so slowly, Haylwen initially thought of saying something during the pauses after his sentences. “Welcome. Haylwen. Quickling child.” She eventually figured out his sentences were all one.

Haylwen didn’t mind waiting, as there was so much going on in her…what she felt coming in from around her. She felt as if she were immersed in energy, in magic. Everything had a background shimmer, as if she could see the energy of the air reflecting and bouncing off the energy of the land and water. The energy carried a chorus of music, perfectly harmonious together, though each was a full symphony by itself. Haylwen caught a part of the tune, a catchy, simple melody that sounded familiar. She was barely aware of a tiny note of wrongness that was somewhere close, but Haylwen lost it in the wonder.

When the old man had not spoken for some time, Haylwen replied, “Where am I?”

He gave a breezy laugh. “You are. Where you were. And still are.”

“Huh? Um, let’s start over. How do you know my name?”

The old man blinked, shook his head slowly. Haylwen felt herself slow down, or everything else speed up, as the old man muttered something about time and quicklings. Either way, suddenly his speech didn’t seem slow.

He said, “You told me your name.” He didn’t seem to be kidding.

Haylwen tried again. “Who are you?”

“I am who I was.” He looked briefly confused, then brightened. “But, of course! For the you-now this is the first.” He made an odd sort of bow, a swaying from the waist. “I am Barandarus, the youngest of the elders, the speaker for the grove.”

A flash made Haylwen look around. On the other islands, where the other trees had stood, now stood men and women, wearing similarly-styled robes. They silently watched.

Haylwen tried again. “What is this place?” She tried not to think she was just hallucinating. A dream, that’s all.

Again, the breezy laugh, which seemed to echo as it spread among the other people. “This is no place, quickling. This is the energy of the grove. You might even call it the mind of the grove,” he said, looking around. “Your energy, my energy,” he continued, waving his hand at the others, “hers and his and hers, all of their energy, vibrating in resonance, in concert. Energy, mind, all as one.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He shook his head, still smiling. “We do not bring. The way was there, the door to open, and you brought. Why did you bring you here?” After a pause, he continued with a wink. “Perhaps it is guidance you seek from the grove?”

Was that a hint? “What sort of guidance might I want?”

The old man smiled and gave another of his wavy bows. “You told us, or will tell us, this would be the way, but still.” He smiled with a slow head shake. “Curious quicklings, so full of energy, without perspective.” He stood a bit differently. “You said to be sure I will tell you three.” He held up one finger. “One. Remember Rivenwake.”

Haylwen’s eyes widened. Remember Rivenwake? She echoed it in her mind, memories flashing past. Her one real-life meeting with him was a blur of embarrassed stammering as she’d tried to seem normal in the face of his fathomless eyes and too-cute face. Or, could he be talking about her dream of him, running from a horde of assassins and her first kiss, heart-pounding nightmare and romantic fantasy all in one? She couldn’t forget him, despite all her trying.

A thrumming started, and Barandarus blinked. “Nothing save trouble,” he muttered. He flicked a second finger up. “Two. Find Faustas.”

Why did that name sound familiar…? Oh! The mustachioed king from her book on the history of magic! Find Faustas the Traitor?

“He’s dead!” Haylwen blurted.

Barandarus shook his head. “Of course not. Though, it has been a while, even for us.”

A moan interrupted. Low and quiet, like someone in the distance was injured. Barandarus winced and then grimaced as more moans joined, changing voices, coming closer. He shook his head, eyes unfocused. A scream broke his look, and he fixed his gaze on her intently.

“Child, there is damage come to the grove,” he said with energy beyond the volume of his words, “and darkness carried in it. We feel it comes for you. We will do what we can, but they were invited, in a way. You are needed to protect yourselves, ourselves. Go, please go.”

Looking in Barandarus’ eyes, Haylwen could feel his pain. For a second, she knew him, trusted him. She felt a pulling, as if someone had opened a door on a storm.

“Wait, what is the third?” she blurted, fighting the pulling sensation.

“Clearing come. Now go!” Barandarus shouted.

Haylwen let herself slide into the opening, back along the same way she’d come. She blinked and was back in the clearing, sitting just as she had been. She jumped up, the others watching her curiously.

“What’s up, Hayl?” Cadarn asked.

“There is damage and darkness coming to the grove,” she shot out. She blushed slightly, trying not to notice Cadarn’s look. “We should get back to the house.”

She quickly grabbed her pack and went to the edge of the clearing to stand looking toward the main house. The others were slowly gathering their things, except for Oakren. He had grabbed all his things, stepped up almost in front of her, and made a few gestures in sign language. Haylwen shook her head, not understanding. He was deaf, but she felt dumb.

Nacia was leading the others out, and Oakren gestured to her and then Haylwen.

“What?” Nacia said. “You want me to say what? You heard the trees and want to talk to them next time?”

Haylwen looked sharply at Oakren, surprised. Oakren nodded to himself and smiled. He made a few more gestures.

Nacia sighed. “He says he wants you to bring him next time.” She shook her head and said under her breath, “I know he has a crush on you, but honestly.”

Haylwen heard a crash, the distant sound of breaking wood. She started walking, and then heard the sound of a chainsaw. She picked up the pace. Nacia was gesturing to the twins, who looked confused, then angry. They started running, sprinting past Haylwen. By the time Haylwen got to the farmhouse, the boys were standing next to Feabee on the porch, the three of them looking like thunderclouds.

Nacia ran over to stand with her mother, Topaz, just inside the door. They looked so much alike, one just an older version of the other, a mirror through time. Haylwen drifted to stand by her parents off to the side, while Cadarn stood by himself to the side of the porch. Everyone was looking down the path, to where the sounds of crashing branches and large motors were gradually coming closer. Feabee made an occasional gesture to the twins to let them know what the rest were hearing.

Haylwen blanched at a particularly loud crash, wincing. Her father looked at her questioningly. “They are trying to help, and it is hurting them,” Haylwen whispered. Her father held his questioning look for a moment. His eyes popped wide and suddenly narrowed as he heard what she’d said. He looked into the forest briefly and then turned and started to say something to Haylwen.

He was drowned out as a large, olive-green truck crashed through the last of the branches, leaves and twigs caught in its grille and hanging from the roof rack. It looked like some savage beast, a destroyer of trees. It revved its engine and then growled its way up the slope to stop halfway up. It backed off the dirt road onto the grass as a shiny black SUV quietly rolled out from the mangled tunnel of trees. After the SUV passed it, the truck threw itself in a roaring spin that threw chunks of green and mud behind it to block the road out. It sat there, engine still growling. The smell of diesel rolled up to the house.

The SUV pulled off the road and drove across the rolling lawn, leaving crushed grass in its wake. It stopped with the passenger side at the very edge of the farmhouse porch. The passenger door opened and a tall man in a charcoal suit stepped out, directly onto the porch.

With his blond hair chopped short, it took Haylwen a moment to recognize him. “Mr. Johansen,” she whispered, clutching her father and sliding behind him. Her ex-principal was here? A wave of fear washed over her, carrying memories of when he had grabbed her—the feel of his hands on her neck, the chemical smell of his car as he’d stuffed her in.

“You have nothing to fear from him,” her father said in a quiet, but stern, voice, tension rolling off of him.

Haylwen’s mother, Crystyn, leaned over, turning to look Haylwen in the eye. “He will never touch you again, I promise.” Crystyn stood, taking a couple of firm steps to stand a bit ahead of Haylwen and her father. Abrennin twitched away as Crystyn moved past him, like he had gotten a shock. He gave her a brief look of surprise and confusion, but she wasn’t paying attention.

“May I help you?” Feabee said. “You realize this is private property.”

Mr. Johansen took a step toward Feabee, a reddish hue seeping from him. Haylwen’s guts clenched. He was going to use magic to hurt Feabee!

Abrennin whispered something and then choked. Haylwen’s stomach twisted more, realizing what her father’s choking meant. With me and Cadarn here, our parents’ Oath is in effect. Mom and Dad can’t use magic. Her parents might protect her from a physical attack, but what about a magical one?

Feabee shot Abrennin a wide-eyed look and he nodded once. She blinked, then her jaw muscles jumped as a green glow slipped around her. Haylwen squeezed her father’s hand, a question. He smiled thinly and squeezed back. Of course, Feabee could use magic!

“I have information that you are willfully transgressing against federal law,” Mr. Johansen said. Haylwen gave a little gasp as a red arc shot from Mr. Johansen, a striking snake, to bounce off Feabee’s green shield. “You are harboring fugitives, aiding and abetting criminals.” Another red snake slithered along the ground, trying to work its way under Feabee’s shield.

Feabee shook her head with a smile.

“You think truancy laws are less important than any other?” Mr. Johansen said loudly, standing a bit taller. “We must make sure the children of society are safe.”

“My paperwork is in order and has not expired,” she said.

“Perhaps, but it only lists three students,” he sneered.

Haylwen looked over to Cadarn, sharing the look of guilt and fear that this was about them. Haylwen felt her fear twist into anger. Feabee, Nacia, and the twins were going to get in trouble because of her! She looked up at her father, who just held her hand and shook his head slightly.

“Actually, I submitted updated paperwork, which was received two days ago,” Feabee replied.

“And I was sent to confirm the information was accurate. We have the right to do an inspection for classes equal to, or larger than, five,” he said.

“There is no such law,” Feabee retorted, eyes narrowing.

“Law? Oh, I guess you didn’t see the express invitation to an inspection on the forms you completed?” he sneered. His red bubble pulsed. Several snakes struck as he said, “The forms you signed authorized the right of inspection with acceptance. We must make sure there is actual learning, to prevent child neglect.”

Feabee threw apologetic looks at Haylwen’s parents. “Invitation? I didn’t see…” Her green shield was weakening under the repeated attacks.

“You understand that the neglect laws include all students, correct?” The red intensified, and the attacking snakes grew in number. “Under the child abuse and neglect statutes, we have the authority to take all of the children into custody immediately,” Mr. Johansen said.

Haylwen watched as the green glow started to show tiny spots of black, gaps in the shield. Two more red snakes quickly shot out from Mr. Johansen, squirming against the black spots, trying to force their way in. Feabee looked resigned, trapped. Haylwen felt her father try to say something, but he tensed and choked.

“You have no authority here.” Haylwen gave a small gasp, hearing her mother’s voice with such power. “You will take your polluting trucks and leave immediately.” Crystyn stalked across the porch to stand ahead and to the side of Feabee, making Mr. Johansen shift to face her. Haylwen glanced up at her father, who was breathing easier. His face was an odd combination of confused and proud.

Mr. Johansen looked over Crystyn’s head, following where she had come from to see Haylwen and Abrennin standing there. He gave a little smirk, a twisted look of revenge.

“Ah, Mrs. Rightad. I see where your vandalizing daughter gets it.” Several thick red snakes slowly approached her mother. “If I leave, it will be with your truant children…”

A white glow erupted around Haylwen’s mother. Haylwen squinted, slightly blinded as the white glow around her mother flared even brighter, engulfing the snakes, obliterating them.

“You will leave with nothing,” her mother said in a tone that sent shivers down Haylwen’s spine. Her mother had locked eyes with Mr. Johansen. Though he was at least a foot taller, he seemed to shrink with each passing moment, while Haylwen’s mother seemed to grow. The white glow increased in intensity and size, washing like waves against the receding red of Mr. Johansen. “If you ever come close to either of my children again—”

“I did nothing, I have witnesses,” Mr. Johansen interrupted, momentarily straightening, the red pushing against the waves.

The white flared again, and Mr. Johansen took a step back. He had only the slightest hint of red around him now, flickering.

“You have nothing to withstand a mother protecting her child,” Haylwen heard her mother say, as another blinding flare of white pulsed out. Mr. Johansen took another step back, stumbling, withering even more under her fierce gaze.

Crystyn pointed her finger toward the SUV as another pulse of the white light washed over Mr. Johansen. “You and your agent’s invitations are revoked!” Haylwen’s mother nudged Feabee, who nodded once.

Mr. Johansen slid backward down the stairs, banging into the SUV, scrambling to open the door and get inside before being sucked away. He slammed the door closed, and the SUV’s idling engine roared, tires spitting grass and dirt in every direction. Everyone was pelted, but Haylwen noticed not a fleck hit her mother.

The SUV bounced down the hill as the olive-green truck tore out of the way. The black SUV disappeared into the tunnel as the truck spun around, engine roaring, tires clawing the ground, making a new set of wounds in the grassy field. A cold shiver crawled up Haylwen’s legs, tightening around her throat, as she looked at the ruined lawn. Even after the smell of exhaust had drifted away, the wounds were mocking proof they weren’t safe. It was only a matter of time.


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postheadericon Interview with Eliot Baker, author of ‘The Last Ancient’

Eliot BakerEliot Baker lives in Finland. He teaches communications at a local college and runs an editing and translating business, but would be content singing for his heavy metal band and writing novels full-time. He grew up near Seattle, got his B.A. in World Literature at PitzerCollege, and got his M.S. in Science Journalism from BostonUniversity. He was an award-winning journalist at the Nantucket Inquirer and Mirror, and before that he wrote for the Harvard Health Letters. He spent four years pursuing a career in the sciences while at the HarvardExtensionSchool, during which time he spun old people in NASA-designed rocket chairs and kept younger people awake for 86 hours at a time in a sleep deprivation study. He likes good books, all music, and bad movies, and believes music and literature snobs just need a hug.

His latest book is the supernatural thriller/historical mystery, The Last Ancient.

Visit his blog at www.eliotbakerauthor.blogspot.com.

About the Book:

The Last Ancient 2Around NantucketIsland, brutal crime scenes are peppered with ancient coins, found by the one man who can unlock their meaning. But what do the coins have to do with the crimes? Or the sudden disease epidemic? Even the creature? And who–or what–left them?

The answer leads reporter Simon Stephenson on a journey through ancient mythology, numismatics, and the occult. Not to mention his own past, which turns out to be even darker than he’d realized; his murdered father was a feared arms dealer, after all. Along the way, Simon battles panic attacks and a host of nasty characters — some natural, others less so — while his heiress fiancee goes bridezilla, and a gorgeous rival TV reporter conceals her own intentions.

Q: Thank you so much for this interview, Eliot! Can you tell us where you are from?

Thank you for having me! So, where am I from; it’s a straightforward question that requires a few sentences. I was born and raised in suburban Seattle, but I went to college near LA, mostly to get out of the rain and into the sun. After LA, I lived in Finland for a year, and then Massachusetts for seven years. But I’ve bounced back to Finland now for the past four years to raise my family with my Finnish wife. Ironically, I tried to leave Seattle’s grim winters, only to find myself in arguably the grimmest winter on the planet. But I kid. Finland is wonderful.

Q: How did you come up with your title?

That was a bit of a process. My original title was very strange, and I liked it very much and hope to use it for something else some day (and hence won’t spill the beans on it here). But my publisher, wisely, axed it on account of it being so strange and long. After a long go-round of titles that captured certain aspects of my book, I realized that the real fulcrum of my novel is the mythological creature, (which might or might not be the Last Ancient). The title hits the mark: it elicits that vague concern we get when confronting yet another extinction of a species or culture or tradition. And it makes us curious to find out who, or what, really is The Last Ancient?

Q: They say you can judge a book by its cover. Can you tell us a little about your cover and who designed it?

I’ve been told by many people that they love my cover. I was surprised by it. It wasn’t what I was expecting based upon the lengthy materials I submitted to the art department at Champagne Books. They seemed to stress the romantic and spiritual elements of the story with the cover, which are certainly important, although The Last Ancient has a distinctly dark and sinister tone that’s set from the first page.

Q: Can you tell us something about your book that would make me run out and buy it?

The mythological creature is real. It’s on Nantucket. It is powerful, beautiful, and its intentions are impossible to interpret without reading this book to the end. Oh, and the conspiracy is real. The world is about to change in every way. Our resources are depleted, our societies are bankrupt. A magical world will be born. Whether that’s a good or bad thing, you’ll have to find out yourself.

Q: Are there any messages in this book that you want the reader to know about?

This book is about choice and borderlines. What’s the difference between killing and justifiable defense—how do we define that choice? How about the differences between obsession, addiction, and love—are we capable of seeing the borders? Or what about personal transformation and the greater good—are they mutually exclusive or inextricably linked? Simon Stephenson is constantly faced with deeply troubling choices, and he’s not always certain whether he’s exercising free will or acquiescing to the demands of someone or something else.

Q: What was your most favorite chapter to write and why?

The last chapter was wonderful. It just came alive for me after a long struggle with how to tie everything together, and I was riding co-pilot with Simon as he took his final journey and made his final choice in this place that encapsulated the entire book’s philosophical underpinning.

Q: Why did you feel you had to write this book?

I had things I needed to say, and this book was how I had to say them. I’d just moved to Finland and while I love it there, a move that drastic entails upheaval on several levels. I’d left behind country, career, and loved ones, after all, at an age when I’d have preferred to put my head down and continue along as a science journalist, a profession I very much enjoy. But the move was the right decision, hard as it was. That feeling of choosing between worlds is an important part of The Last Ancient. Anyhow, a few months after moving I reached that magical triple point of creative inspiration, financial stability, and an irresistible wedge of time. It all came together. One day between classes (I’m a teacher, amongst other things), I opened up my laptop and stared out at the encroaching Finnish winter and thought back to my time on Nantucket as a reporter, some of the best years and experiences of my life. I thought about one of my first field assignments, shadowing a deer hunter at dawn, and how the island sun rose all red and raw to a chorus of gunfire. I got nostalgic. I typed, “Gunshots bark across Nantucket.” It was like an incantation. A portal opened to another world.

Q: Now, some fun questions – What deep dark secret would you like to share with us?

Ah, geeze. I’d better get this off my chest now or it’ll eat me alive. When I was a teenager, I threw a party when my folks were out of town and someone barfed on their bed. They came back the next day, before I could get the stain out. I blamed it on my cat. And my dad yelled at the cat. Yes, I’m a terrible person. Sorry, black kitty.

Q: If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?

I would venture 20,000 leagues under the sea in one of those DeepFlight adventure submarines that James Cameron sometimes buzzes around in. I like scuba diving. I think the ocean is our real final frontier. There’s just this sense of possibility and wonder when you’re underwater. I can’t imagine the rush of underwater flying in a submarine. It’d be cool to cruise through a school of swordfish and rest over an octopus’s garden on your way to a pirate shipwreck in Davey Jones’ Locker.

Q: Are you a morning person or a night person?

Night person, although I admire morning people and I strive to be one. I never feel terribly energetic about getting out of bed, although my life demands I wake up around 6:30 AM each morning. However, my creative mind really comes alive sometime around 8 PM.

Q: Are there any members in your family who also like to write?

My mother, Sharon Baker, when she was alive, wrote three science fiction novels in the 1980s. She’s the reason I became an author.

Q: As a child, were you a dreamer?

Not only was I dreamer, but I was a lucid dreamer. My parents used to try to play with me when I’d build up these elaborate wars between my transformers and my G.I. Joes and Master’s of the Universe, complete with individuated voices and back stories. I’d yell at my folks to stop disturbing me, they were ruining my imaginary war. They were worried about me being a little too weird for a while, but I did well enough in school and had enough friends that I avoided a trip to the shrink. Now I write down what my imaginary friends say to me and call myself an author.

Q: Last but not least, the magic genie has granted you one wish. What would that be?

For my kids to develop super powers that would bring music and peace to the world.

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postheadericon More Precious Than Rubies by Randy Coates Book Blitz – Win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

More Precious Than RubiesTitle: More Precious Than Rubies
Author: Randy Coates
Publisher: iUniverse
Pages: 174
Genre: Fantasy
Format: Ebook

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Paul Brager is twelve when his father tells the story of Iduna and her apples. Mr. Brager always tells stories before bed to entertain Paul’s little brother, Adrian—a ritual that has become even more important since their mother died. Iduna was a goddess who grew apples that made the gods younger and stronger, but one day she disappeared, along with her apples. Paul doesn’t think much of the myth; he has other things on his mind.

Paul and his best friend, Chad Tremblay, are excited to start the school year as seventh graders at Dorian Heights Public School. Even when they hear about the new principal, Mr. Theisen, they aren’t worried about ending up in his office. When Paul finally meets the principal, however, he finds him to be strange, mysterious, and extremely fond of apples. That’s when things start going wrong.

Theisen develops an uncomfortable interest in Paul, claiming he once knew Paul’s father. It becomes apparent to Paul and Chad that Theisen is after something, maybe some kind of treasure—and it involves the Brager family. Paul believes his family must be protected and that Theisen must be stopped. Still, he can’t get the story of Iduna’s apples out of his head; there seems to be an odd connection to the tale his father told. He and Chad want to know the answers, but learning them may put their lives in danger.




Randy Coates graduated from the University of Waterloo with a bachelor of arts degree and went on to acquire his teacher’s certificate at the University of Western Ontario. He is currently an elementary teacher in the Toronto District Board of Education.

Randy is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


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  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one $25 Amazon Gift Certificate or Paypal Cash.
  • This giveaway begins August 4 and ends on August 15.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on Monday, August 18.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

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postheadericon Interview with Natsuya Uesugi, author of grydscaen



Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy

Author: Natsuya Uesugi

Publisher: Xlibris

EBook: 288 pages

Release Date: July 21, 2011

Follow the lives of the main characters as they come together in the backstory to grydscaen:retribution, the first volume of the grydscaen saga. Faid is tired of life on the run in the Echelons, trying to keep his psychic power in check, he founds the Packrats establishing a safe haven for psychics. As a hacker he uses his jack to support his neurocyne habit. Lino is recruited by the Psi Faction and is sent on a mission to kidnap Faid. Riuho, Lino’s half brother becomes a prisoner of the Elite military and they experiment on him, train him and subject him to mind control, then send him out on a mission. On his return, Riuho is set on escaping and recruits Faid who hacks into the Psi Faction systems. They escape and return to the Packrats leading up to the start of grydscaen:retribution.


What are you passionate about?

The grysdcaen series has a few messages. I write to get those messages out. The messages are LGBT equality, stopping bullying, ending the stigma of mental illness, hacker’s rights, and showing the plight of LGBT homeless youth on the streets. All of these are messages that I try to touch on in the sci fi grydscaen series. I want to provide role models for LGBT youth and youth in general and I can do this through grydscaen. If I touch just one person I will have been doing my job.

What would you consider to be the best book you have ever read?

Neuromancer by William Gibson

What are the most important attributes for remaining sane as a writer?

You need to know yourself. Writing grydscaen was cathartic for me it helped me to better understand myself. If you don’t understand yourself how are you going to understand your characters? They will not be believable if you don’t relate to them and know them intimately. Also you have to keep the world straight ad not contradict yourself. The grydscaen series is a multi book cyberpunk epic, the world is a microcosm of today set in the future in 2055. You have to know your world to write in a science fiction genre and have people relate to your characters and believe in your story.

Describe what it’s like to be an author in three words.

Crazy Sexy Typewriter

Is there a writer you idolize? If so, who?

I don’t know if I idolize a writer. I respect a few like Ann Rice, William Gibson and Bret Easton Ellis. Maybe that answers the question slightly.

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postheadericon Psyche-Soul-Ology by David Roberts Book Blitz – Win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

Psyche Soul OlogyTitle: Psyche-Soul-Ology

Author: David Roberts

Publisher: iUniverse

Pages: 202

Genre: Psychology

Format: Ebook

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Psyche-Soul-ology: An Inspirational Approach to Appreciating and Understanding Troubled Kids is a companion text to At the Mercy of Externals: Righting Wrongs and Protecting Kids, 2nd Edition. Dr. Roberts presents a spiritually based application of his theories and the Roberts FLAGS Model detailed in his first book. His use of the term Psyche-Soul-ology focuses on the importance of addressing both the minds and souls of troubled kids. Of utmost importance is the need to look beyond the obvious external behaviors and problems of every kid, making an effort to see who they truly are relative to their unique potential for redirecting their lives. By looking into each kid it is possible to discover their uniqueness and encourage them to understand who they are intended to be, rather than who they are becoming. Dr. Roberts stresses the importance of complicating factors serving as obstacles to the progress of low income, disadvantaged kids. He focuses heavily on professional ethics and the need for both extreme compassion and full competence when working with troubled kids and their families. Both of these books are vital for parents and professionals if we are to fight against social injustices associated with poverty and other complicating factors.


Dr. Roberts, a proud father and grandfather, is also a licensed clinical psychologist, author, and college instructor, trained in California and living now in his home state of Alabama. His education, training experiences and worldview make him unique, and he is recognized as an expert with troubled kids and families.


David is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one $25 Amazon Gift Certificate or Paypal Cash.
  • This giveaway begins July 21 and ends on August 1.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on Monday, August 4.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

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postheadericon Guest post from Catherine Hemmerling, author of Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount and Joan Avery, author of Love’s Justice

Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount-500 (1)Title: Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount
Author: Catherine Hemmerling
Publisher: Entangled Scandalous
Pages: 225
Genre: Historical Romance
Format: Ebook

A pretend courtship…a real scandal

London 1814

Hope Stuckeley has lusted after the handsome and charismatic Michael Ashmore, the Viscount Lichfield, for ages—never mind that she’s never actually spoken to him. When the two join forces to investigate a London stock market scandal, pretending he is courting her gives her the chance to prove she’s more than the bookworm he takes her for.

After years of service as a soldier and newly titled as a viscount, actual marriage and settling down are the last things on confirmed bachelor Michael’s mind. But when their investigation puts the delectable Hope in danger, discovering the truth about the scandal could jeopardize the future he didn’t know he wanted.

For More Information

How I Come Up With My Characters

My characters are near and dear to my heart. I think all of the female characters are sides of my own personality. The men, are bits and pieces of the men I love in my life. The villains are, well, villains, and I have nothing at all in common with them, but they sure make life interesting!

In my series, the kingpin is Lady Lancaster. She is the first character I developed. I like to think she is me (with a little Angela Landsbury thrown in) in 30 years. She is clever, magnanimous, and seemingly always right. She has led a colorful life, which is only ever alluded to, as a former spy for the British War Office. She was brought into this life by her one true love, the Duke. Lady Lancaster is actually a dowager duchess and should, by all accounts, be addressed as “her Grace” but being called such reminds her too much of her mother-in-law, the former duchess, and Lady Lancaster cannot abide the reminder. Hence, she is called “Lady”. The fact that she can make such an edict really illustrates who she is and what kind of reputation/power she has. I have more fun writing about her and her thoughts than probably anyone else (besides Sarah).

The five main ladies, who have been enlisted by Lady Lancaster to be spies, are all varying ages and personalities. Hannah is an all around clever sort. She can do most things really well and prefers not to acknowledge the things she can’t do. This is so very me! Rose is a bookworm with an eidetic (photographic) memory. This is more of a wishful thinking thing for me. I am a bookworm, but I would love to have a photographic memory. Hope is the math wizard. She is good at figuring out odds and averages. She is also very proper and concerned with what other people think of her. I have always loved math and I have an unhealthy opinion of what others think of me. Hope and I both need to work on that. Emily is the season’s “Diamond of the First Water”. That means she is the most beautiful and eligible lady of the season. She is also extremely charitably minded. She wants to save the world, one starving child at a time. Me too. Finally, there is Sarah. Sarah is unusually tall, rather clumsy, and has absolutely no filter on her mouth. This is more me than I would like to admit. Writing for Sarah allows me no limitations. She will say or do pretty much anything that comes to mind. Very liberating for me as an author.

As you can see, I meant it when I wrote all my heroines are parts of me. I don’t know if all authors are the same, but I am sure we all use our writing as an opportunity to explore different times, worlds, thoughts, and opinions that we can’t always explore in our real lives. It is always an adventure and as much as it is coming from our own imaginations, I, for one, never know exactly where my mind will take me … until I get there.

Catherine Hemmerling has spent most of her career as a technical writer in the software industry, but in the last few years has realized her dream of becoming a novelist. Every day she pinches herself to make sure her new life is real. Living with her family in the hills of southern California, Ms. Hemmerling spends her days devising plot twists, agonizing over titles, and making a lot of new imaginary friends; and loves it.

Her latest book is the historical romance, Tempting the Reluctant Viscount.

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Love’s Justice
Author: Joan Avery
Publisher: Entangled Scandalous
Pages: 215
Genre: Historical Romance
Format: Ebook

He holds her fate in his hands…

London, 1879

American heiress, Victoria Wentworth has spent her life blithely ignoring her father’s wishes…until he enters her into an unwanted marriage contract with a despicable man. She has two choices: marry the bounder or fight the archaic English laws in court. Her only hope is Hugh Worth, the Earl Montgomery and Lord Chancellor of the Exchequer: her judge and jury. Society paints him as stern and subdued, yet fair. Society didn’t warn her that beneath his somber façade beats a passionate heart and soul.

Hugh finds himself irresistibly, inexplicably, drawn to the spirited American, despite himself and his better judgment. As the inconvenient heiress takes on the fight against the very foundation of his life and career, another battle wages in his once cold heart. Everything about her is inappropriate, illogical, and unexpected. Yet, she is a woman he could admire. A woman of intelligence and beliefs that challenge the existing world.

But she is forbidden.

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Joan Avery

I’m often asked why I choose to write historical romances over contemporary ones.  Certainly there is more research needed to create a believable and true-to-its-time historical setting than a present day setting.  I’m sure the origin of my preference was in what I prefer to read.  There is something magical about an historical setting.  It is a place where you can lose yourself for an hour or two in another era, another time.  There is so much to be learned from a good historical.  The customs and beliefs of a culture in the near or distant past can be enlightening to us today.  Women’s rights which we so often take for granted are really a recent occurrence.  Not so long ago a women in Europe and America found themselves and their roles seriously constrained by law.  The women who dared to push the limits were brave and intrepid.  Their conviction that women’s roles could not be defined by a society controlled by men led them to push the boundaries and valiantly fight for all the freedoms women enjoy today.  I find a great deal of satisfaction writing about these groundbreaking women.  For me, that satisfaction far outweighs the additional research.

Joan Avery was an award-winning writer/producer at a major national advertising agency for over fifteen years before she retired to raise a family and write. Joan has been blessed with a daughter, two sons and two stepsons. She and her husband now have five grandchildren. Although she has lived in the Detroit area her entire life she has traveled extensively for both work and leisure. She and her husband, an attorney, have visited many fascinating parts of the world. Joan feels her travels enrich her writing. THE WORTH BROTHERS TRILOGY takes place in three of her favorite places.

Her latest book is the historical romance, Love’s Justice

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Catherine and Joan are giving away a $25 and $20 Amazon/B&N Gift Card!

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  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • 2 winners will be chosen via Rafflecopter.
  • This giveaway begins July 21 and ends on August 1.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on August 2 .
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

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postheadericon Vlad Dracula: The Dragon Prince by Michael Augustyn Book Blitz – Win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


Vlad Dracula the Dragon PrinceTitle: Vlad Dracula

Author: Michael Augustyn

Publisher: iUniverse

Pages: 286

Genre: Historical Fiction

Format: Ebook

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Most of the vast audience attracted to the subject of Dracula know him only in his fictional, one-dimensional form: vampire! Yet the truth behind the historical character–voevode, warlord–of 15th C. Romania is at least as equally fascinating as any contrived account of his supernatural persona.

Vlad Dracula faithfully follows his life story as hostage, fugitive, prince, and prisoner. His principality of Wallachia was caught between two voracious predators: the kingdom of Hungary and the Ottoman empire. They tried to break Dracula with overwhelming force and terror. But Dracula turned their own tactics against them, and against criminals and factions in his own land, earning the name Tepes-The Impaler-in the process.

He was a strange mix of husband, father, soldier, statesman, and berserker. He annihilated 50,000 people–one-tenth of his own population. Cursed by his native Orthodox Christian Church, he indeed evolved into a legend. But even today he is Romania’s Robin Hood.


Michael is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


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  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one $25 Amazon Gift Certificate or Paypal Cash.
  • This giveaway begins July 21 and ends on August 1.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on Monday, August 4.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

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postheadericon The Treasure of Kefer Shimon by Clifford Stevens Book Blitz – Win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

128630_BlogTour_L1 copy

The Treasure of Kefer ShimonTitle:
The Treasure of Kefer Shimon
Author: Clifford Stevens
Publisher: iUniverse
Pages: 344
Genre: Men’s Adventure
Format: Ebook

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The Treasure of Kefer Shimon is the story of a young American priest given a secret assignment by the Vatican to track down the source of three ancient scrolls that have come into the possession of the Holy Sea. If the scrolls are genuine, they will cause a revolution in Biblical studies. Along the way he makes many startling and shocking discoveries deliberately kept hidden for centuries.

Filled with historical fact masterfully woven with fiction, it takes David Lavarans on a journey into the secret dealings of the Vatican, into the ancient archives of a medieval Pope, into a Middle Eastern monastery, and into the Arabian Desert. Here, he makes a shocking discovery that has been kept hidden since the time of Christ. If revealed, the ramifications will rock biblical scholars and historians.

David is neither heroic nor a pursuer of power. He is simply a young parish priest completely unaware of why he, among thousands of more prominent priests, is singled out for this mission by someone more powerful than the Pope himself.

Ancient scrolls, the high ranks of the Vatican, a young American priest, the Middle East, and secrets that will shake the world of Christianity and the interpretation of the New Testament all play a role in this intriguing biblical adventure which spans 2,000 years.

Father Clifford Stevens is a priest of the Archdiocese of Omaha and the founder of Tintern Monastery. He graduated from Boys Town. He entered the Air Force as a Chaplain and served on bases in California, Alaska, New Mexico and Japan. He left the Air Force to become the Executive Editor of The Priest magazine and was later editor/publisher of Schema XIII, a journal for the Priest in the Modern World. He was at one time the associate director of Liturgy in Santa Fe, a liturgical institute in New Mexico.

His writings on religious and theological subjects have appeared in Chicago Studies, America, U.S. Catholic, Pastoral Life, The Priest, Our Sunday Visitor, Liturgical Arts, the Homiletic & Pastoral Review, Cistercian Studies, the American Benedictine Review, Angelicum and the Review for Religious.

He is the author of twelve published books, including the historical novel, Flame out of Dorset published by Doubleday & Co., A Life of Christ, The Blessed Virgin, Father Flanagan: Builder of Boys, the One-Year Book of Saints, Portraits of Faith, Astro-Theology: for the Cosmic Adventure, The Noblest Love, On Christian Marriage and Intimacy with God, and Aloysius, a collection of essays about St. Aloysius Gonzaga.

Clifford is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one $25 Amazon Gift Certificate or Paypal Cash.
  • This giveaway begins July 21 and ends on August 1.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on Monday, August 4.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!


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postheadericon Top 10 TV Mysteries by Claire Baxter, author of Down Among the Dead Men

Down among the deadTitle:
Down Among the Dead Men
Author: Claire Baxter
Publisher: Entangled Ignite
Pages: 210
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Format: Ebook

When Caitlyn ventures into the rough, tough world of the South Australian opal fields on a mission to find her estranged father she instead discovers a half-sister she knew nothing about and learns that her father is missing and suspected of a crime.

Dale is a former city lawyer-turned-lapidary hiding out in Minagoona after death threats endanger him and his daughter. When Caitlyn approaches him for help finding her father, he’s reluctant, but attracted by her determination to right the wrongs dealt to her family. His sense of justice is very much like hers, but when his daughter’s life was threatened by men who wanted him to break the law for them, he fled to protect the child he loves.

Still the more Dale gets to know Caitlyn, the more he realizes he can’t let her go up against organized crime on her own—which is exactly what she proposes when she sets out to clear her father’s name. No matter what, he’ll do his damnedest to keep her safe—even if it means exposing himself and his daughter to the men who want to kill them…

For More Information

Top 10 TV Mysteries

My latest book, Down Among The Dead Men, is my first in the romantic suspense/mystery genre and while writing it I immersed myself in mystery television shows to imprint the format in my brain. Even when I was working on other things I often had mysteries playing in the background. Many of them were of the “police procedural” type whereas my story is an “amateur sleuth”, but there are lots of similarities. Here in Australia we receive US, UK and Irish television series, as well as home-grown, so my top ten is a mix.

10. CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

An American series, CSI shines a spotlight on the work of a team of crime scene investigators, placing a strong emphasis on the science used to solve crimes.

9. Jack Taylor

An Irish drama based on a series of novels by Ken Bruen. Set in Galway, the series features a main character who is a former officer in the Garda.

8. The Doctor Blake Mysteries

An Australian series in which Doctor Lucien Blake returns home to Ballarat in 1959 to take over his late father’s general medical practice and becomes a solver of mysteries.

7. The Fall

A British crime drama television series in which a senior police officer investigates a string of murders in Belfast, Northern Ireland.

6. Midsomer Murders

Based on the crime novels by Caroline Graham, this long-running British series follows the investigations of Detective Chief Tom Barnaby in the fictional county of Midsomer.

5. Prime Suspect

A British police procedural television drama series in which Jane Tennison is one of the first female Detective Chief Inspectors in London’s Metropolitan Police.

4. Lewis

A British television detective drama, a spin-off from Inspector Morse, set in Oxford. In my opinion it’s much better than Morse, in part due to the presence of sidekick, Sergeant Hathaway.

3. Without a Trace

An American police procedural drama series that follows the ventures of a Missing Persons Unit of the FBI in New York City.

2. Law & Order

A police and legal procedural drama. I enjoy all variants and adaptations of the original American series, but especially like Law & Order UK.

1. Castle

An American crime drama series which traces the lives of a best-selling mystery novelist and an NYPD homicide detective as they solve unusual crimes in New York City.

Claire grew up in Warwickshire, England, but for more than 20 years has called Australia home. She considers herself lucky to live near one of Adelaide’s beautiful metropolitan beaches where she loves to walk and think up stories.

Her latest book is the romantic suspense novel, Down Among the Dead Men.

For More Information

Don’t miss out on great books from Entangled Publishing – Check out their Steals and Deals!

Claire is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card and an Ecopy of Flirting with Danger!

Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • 2 winners will be chosen via Rafflecopter.
  • This giveaway begins July 14 and ends on July 25.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on Monday, July 28 .
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!


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postheadericon It’s Your Decision: Parenting the Way Good Intended by Ed Grizzle Book Blitz – Win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

Title: It’s Your Decision

Author: Ed Grizzle

Publisher: iUniverse

Pages: 128

Genre: Family Relationships/Parenting

Format: Ebook

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Children are gifts from God, but parenting those children can often be a difficult task. In It’s Your Decision, author Ed Grizzle shows how parenting can be successful when it’s carried out according to God’s plan.

Using his life’s experiences as a guide, Grizzle explores the importance of making the right decisions in life—from choosing the right lifestyle and the right mate and to raising children according to what God has planned for you.

It’s Your Decision discusses

• planning for children;

• knowing what children need;

• being aware of the important years in a child’s life;

• understanding that children will test parents;

• valuing the role of grandparents;

• dealing with abused children;

• communicating openly and honestly;

• clarifying family roles.

Grizzle presents a guide to strengthening lives and making your family life more enjoyable. He shows how this is possible when you accept Jesus Christ into your life; he will show you the way in the difficult times.

Ed Grizzle started a ministry called It’s Your Decision that helps addicts, prostitutes, and others who face difficult circumstances. He and his late wife, Mary, raised two children. Grizzle currently lives in Illinois

Ed is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one $25 Amazon Gift Certificate or Paypal Cash.
  • This giveaway begins July 21 and ends on August 1.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on Monday, August 4.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!


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postheadericon First Chapter Reveal: The Gifted: How to Live the Life of Your Dreams by Daphne Michaels

The Gifted 7Title: The Gifted: How to Live the Life of Your Dreams
Author: Daphne Michaels
Publisher: Daphne Michaels Books
Pages: 130
Genre: Personal Development/Spirituality
Format: Paperback / Kindle

Purchase at AMAZON

In The Gifted: How to Live the Life of Your Dreams author, speaker and licensed psychotherapist Daphne Michaels celebrates the nine gifts that are our birthright, guiding readers in how to recognize and use them to transform their lives. In her author’s preface, Michaels reveals how her own journey of life transformation began when she was young and realized that human existence wore two conflicting faces–one of love and joy, and one of fear and despair. She decided then to commit her life to reconciling these two visions because she knew that, irreconcilable though they seemed, together these two faces held the secret to living a life of endless possibility and authentic happiness. Her personal journey and formal education in social science, human services and integral psychology led to the founding of the Daphne Michaels Institute, which has helped hundreds of men and women design the lives of their dreams.

In The Gifted Michaels shows us that the first three “gifts” we must recognize and embrace within us if we are to re-design our lives are Awareness, Potential and Stillness. These three allow us to identify and use the remaining six with a life-changing power: Disharmony, Harmony, Ease, Clarity, Freedom and Engagement. Each of these six relies on the “essential three” for its own power to change our lives, and each has its own gifts–its “children.” By approaching the nine gifts with real-world metaphors, Michaels answers in easily understood ways what for many readers have been lingering questions about personal transformation—such as how it works, what kind of commitment it takes, and why, if we’re committed, real transformation becomes inevitable—and addresses obstacles that readers may have encountered in the past in trying to reach in life a happiness every human deserves.

While the human universe’s face of love is celebrated in The Gifted, so is the face of fear that haunted a young girl decades ago. As Michaels shows us in her book, even Disharmony—the “quagmire” of life born of the human ego’s fear, defenses, delusions and despair—is a gift, too, and one as important as the others if we know how to see it clearly and use it. Once we understand Disharmony, we are ready to understand the real purpose of Harmony in our lives. Disharmony does not need to rule us. It is ours to use as we design the lives of our dreams.

The final gift in The Gifted, Michaels tells us, is the gift of Engagement. Engagement—with the universe and with ourselves—allows us to use all of the other gifts with more power and joy than we ever imagined possible.

That mountaintop decision never left me. It drove my life’s work and over the years led me to understand that there are gifts – nine of them, in fact – that we are all born with but rarely experience in their full glory and potential. These gifts – which make each and every one of us “The Gifted” of this book’s title – are the keys to living lives of endless possibilities and, in turn, achieving an authentic happiness that cannot be lost. They are, in other words, the keys to achieving the life of our dreams.


Life’s greatest mystery is inside us. It is inside every living thing. Like the deep secrets of the universe, the mystery inside us will never be fully explained. By exploring it, however, we can discover gifts available to us that can change our lives forever.

Life’s great mystery is awareness. More basic than thoughts and more primal than instincts, awareness does not require a centralized brain, as scientists have proven through studies with invertebrates like starfish. While these beautiful creatures have no centralized brains, they possess awareness. Starfish, like all invertebrates, use awareness to perceive, eat, grow, reproduce, and survive.

Awareness is so intrinsic to life that it defines life: living means being aware. From the beginning of life – before we take an initial breath – humans demonstrate tremendous awareness. Prenatal psychologists have discovered that we experience, while still in our mother’s womb, not only light and sound but, even more astonishingly, emotion. We kick our legs when agitated by loud noises and sway pleasantly to beautiful classical music. Months before birth we grimace at the taste of sour amniotic fluid and drink heartily when it is sweet. Awareness grows as we grow.

As we develop as human beings, our awareness stretches in all directions – from awareness of our five basic senses to awareness of external events around us, from awareness of our emotions to awareness of our thoughts, from limited awareness of a topic that bores us to an expanded awareness of topics we feel passionate about. Of all the many dimensions of awareness, the highest form is self-awareness. With self-awareness we begin to appreciate just how far awareness actually extends. Just as ocean waters are deeper than the surface of the sea, awareness is deeper than the surface of our physical body or our conscious thoughts. The infinite depth and breadth of awareness is filled with gifts that are ours to receive.

Our Most Valuable Resource

At a time when the entire world seems to be spinning out of control, understanding that awareness is our most valuable and practical personal resource is crucial. Rather than having us search high and low for answers to life’s problems in the same old places, awareness takes us beyond what we already know into realms of endless discovery: Realms where rebirth always follows destruction. Realms where new horizons continually appear in sight. Realms where new solutions inevitably come from our sheer willingness to delve deeper into an invisible resource that is always there and can never be depleted.

When we realize that awareness is our most valuable and practical personal resource, we become confident that we can overcome any challenges keeping us from living the life we’ve always wanted. Through awareness, hope is guaranteed us. The secret to living the life of our dreams begins with understanding that awareness plays a central, crucial role in both the life we’re living now and the one we wish to live.

Increasing Our Awareness

Increasing our awareness is not about discovering answers by asking questions in the usual way. Awareness is more organic than thinking. We can only access it through a deeper connection with the self. And we can only achieve that connection through a special kind of relaxation: not the kind of relaxation that puts us to sleep, but the kind that wakes us up.

Like gymnasts on balance beams, we increase our awareness through a relaxation that calls forth alertness and focus. Relaxed, alert and focused, gymnasts connect to deeper parts of themselves where awareness exists. If they think, they will fall. And when they come off the balance beam, they bring back a special quality to their daily lives.

Self-Guiding Our Awareness

Like gymnasts, we need to come off the balance beam to discover that the gifts we receive from awareness extend farther than we can imagine – into every aspect of our lives. When gymnasts carry their physical strength and mental precision into daily life, their confidence and achievements multiply, bringing even greater success.

Like gymnasts dedicated to developing strength and skill for their sport, we must be dedicated to developing strength and skill in self-guiding our awareness. If we are, we will experience deep awareness even when only a moment’s opportunity is available, and then come off the balance beam of that moment with gifts that multiply through the ways we live and love.

Self-guiding our awareness means tuning it – from a lower awareness felt as cloudy or negative to a higher awareness where we live with a constant sense of possibility. We tune our awareness through the state of our very being – in other words, through the state of our spirit, mind, heart, physical body and dreaming capacity. Being relaxed, alert and focused on all levels tunes our being to the most profound awareness possible, one where pure potential exists. In turn, self-guiding our awareness through tuning our being allows us to bring that potential into every aspect of our lives.

Think of the flight control panel in the cockpit of a high performance aircraft like a Learjet. The panel has all sorts of dials and switches that must be perfectly adjusted for flight. The instrument panel has been carefully designed to keep the sophisticated and complex aircraft functioning.

Humans are even more sophisticated and complex. We, too, however, have instrument panels that have been carefully designed, and we must learn to adjust the state of our being through those panels. Our own dials and switches allow us to tune the Learjet of our life to realms of potential impossible to reach through the physical world. Through our instrument panel we can tune ourselves to an awareness that will show us with astonishing clarity how to face the challenges and opportunities of our lives.

Our Inner and Outer Life

Through awareness we discover an amazing truth: that our inner and outer lives are a continuous stream, and so much so that we cannot separate the two. We discover that our life begins in a place deeper than our cells, a place where pure awareness exists. From this place of pure awareness our life streams through countless layers of our inner being, just as an old-fashioned movie projector’s light shines through film. Our story plays out on the screen of our life, but it has already been written and etched into the film’s frames. Some of the frames we inherited. Some we invented. Some we should have discarded, but didn’t. Some we hold for the future. Some we hold for others. Some we enjoy seeing played on the screen of our lives, while others we wish we could have cut out of the production altogether. But by the time we realize that our inner and outer life is one continuous stream, our movie is already playing in theaters. We directed it, and we were, we realize, asleep.

We may try hopelessly to change the movie of our life as it plays on the screen. We may stand up in the theater and stick our hands in the flow of light. We may jump up and down screaming that we hate the movie. We may cause such commotion that the movie no longer makes sense to us or anyone else watching it. We may deny that the movie is our life and swear that someone who didn’t really know us wrote the script. We may storm out of the theater; but as we stomp up the aisle trying to contain our dismay, we see our wiser self in the projector room waving, trying to get our attention. Our wiser self is shouting: “The movie playing is interactive! While you can’t stop it from rolling, you can dramatically change it through awareness!”

Interacting With Our Life’s Movie

When we learn to tune the state of our being so that we are both deeply connected to our inner self and fully engaged in life, we live as though we are the gymnast on the balance beam, but are not limited by its narrow margin of space. We are completely free to move about in our life however we choose as long as we remain aware. We are flexible, relaxed, strong, clear, focused; and we are able to think, feel and engage life at its highest potential. We live and love creatively, and the gifts we receive multiply exponentially. Our awareness makes everything we touch a gift to ourselves and others. Every thought we have is a gift; every word we speak is a gift; every idea we consider is a gift. Through awareness we realize that life itself is a gift and that the movie of our life is indeed interactive. We realize that everything is connected to everything else, and that interacting with life’s movie can bring enormous changes in amazingly brief periods of time.

Through awareness an entire landscape of potential will appear before us. Life will never be the same again. We will realize we have been blessed with an incredible opportunity to live the life of our dreams – and the only question is “Will I answer – with sincerity and commitment – opportunity’s knock?”

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postheadericon Interview with Paul DeBlassie III, author of ‘The Unholy’

Paul DeBlassie IIIPAUL DeBLASSIE III, PhD, is a psychologist and writer living in his native New Mexico. A member of the Depth Psychology Alliance, the Transpersonal Psychology Association, and the International Association for Relational Psychoanalysis and Psychotherapy, he has for over thirty years treated survivors of the dark side of religion.

His latest book is the psychological/paranormal thriller, The Unholy.

Visit his website at www.pauldeblassieiii.com or his blog at www.pauldeblassieiii.blogspot.com.

Welcome to Literarily Speaking, Paul.  I’d like to begin with how you handled the research for your book, The Unholy?

The Unholy 7Actually it was more like The Unholy researched me, the story lingering in my mind and not settling until I was committed to the year’s long process of writing it. It went on and on in my mind, countless nights of seeing the scenes in dreams and nightmares that eventually became the narrative of The Unholy. So, then, it was very much like the muse researched me, saw into my level of insight, personal and professional experience, diligence, and willingness and then decided to give me the story. Of course, I followed up by jettisoning the story into the mythopoeic realm of Aztlan. This is a spiritual land of the mestizo, mixed blood, southwest. I wanted to take it out of the place of New Mexico and sensed the inspiration of the muse behind this. It was not a story that would permit itself to be trivialized by some thinking of it as a dramatized version of a single story in the literal place of New Mexico. The Unholy is a centuries old story told in such narratives as The Hunchback of Notre Dame and explored further in twentieth century venues such as School of the Sacred Beast by Yumi Takigawa in 1974 and the upcoming HBO documentary “Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House of God.” Overall, research into the mysteries of Aztlan held sway in this book as it became a voyage for me, something I grew up with but had never formally delved into. The Unholy gave me an opportunity to move into the mystic potential of the land, the people, stories lived, and lives forever changed. It has been a place of great suffering and tremendous transformation. Aztlan, the setting of my novels, remains an ongoing study in sense of place, inner meaning, horror, and archetypal energy.

How do you ponder the muse?

Pondering the muse is nothing I want to do too up close and personal. It’s like looking for too long directly into the sun. It’ll blind you. While I was finishing up some of the final writing of the Unholy, my daughter, Victoria, a sculptress, would warn me, “Dad, be careful..the muse will always want more and more. She’ll take over your life if you let her.” I’ve more or less listened to the wisdom coming from my daughter and I’ve found that doing so has served me well. The muse and I stay on good terms so that I don’t burn myself out or blow myself out with the white hot energy that is present during the writing process. I leave the desk each day knowing that I’ve left some in and that is the way it should be. I don’t want to keep going and listening to the sirens who beckon to me to go a little further, a little more into dark creative waters after a full day already spent giving birth to the words, sentences, paragraphs, and scenes. I pay respect to the muse at the end of each in the secret way that I do, leave her and myself wanting more but leaving the more on the table. That way there’s something for me to return to, refreshed and ready, the next day. You know, as I am writing this I see the muse, and she smiles knowingly and hopefully. She hopes one day I’ll listen to her and be seduced into more and more and more and not stop…and this is a good thing to know because then maybe by keeping it in mind I’ll keep my balance between truth to self and heeding the call of the muse.

How do you handle negative criticism?

The most important thing for me to remember about criticism and The Unholy is to realize that it sets off a religious complex in people who haven’t come to terms with the meaning of religion, freedom, spirituality, and love in life. If there is conflict in the confluence of these areas for an individual then they may hate the novel. It makes them vulnerable and suddenly what they’ve wanted to cling to and perhaps find redemption in becomes threatened. Instead of looking within and wondering, pondering the source of their intense emotional reaction, they take it out on the story and may rage against it. Intense emotional reactions are always telling, there is stuff lurking underneath. With The Unholy it provokes strong feeling and may cause folks to love it or hate it…depends on where they are and how they are feeling about themselves and their life. So, I take all this into account when I receive negative criticism. I believe it is helpful in maintaining a certain remove, a distance so that my objectivity remains as clear as possible. There was an initial reaction by a few church folk to The Unholy, stating or really wondering if this was a novel that “is just about slamming religion.” Actually I enjoyed answering them and saying that the novel is not about religion so much as it is about the dark side of human nature, religion just being the particular venue for this story. There is a dark side to religion, something they agreed with, and The Unholy takes this reality and dramatizes to show how good and evil can be masked and show up in the most unlikely of ways. This addressed their criticism and interestingly enough set them more or less at ease about reading a terrifying novel about the dark side of religion!

How did you become a horror writer?

I have to state something that I hope is not a cliché. But, I really believe writers are indeed born and not made. Of course, it takes years and years of work, reading, writing, and editing and editing and editing before things come together. This is definitely the making of a writer, but the initial stuff needs to be there. I couldn’t be a computer programmer or software engineer for all the oolong tea in China. It’s just not in me. However, I do have it in me and have had it in me to write and write til I get it write. If we’re born with the inspiration, if we want to write, then something is there. In The Unholy I had to keep going, the inspiration and compulsion were so strong that the energy literally felt as if it was electric and going to shoot out my fingertips and the top of my head if I didn’t write it out. The making of a horror writer, one who wants to write about the dark side and thrills of the psyche, is about doing what you feel when it comes to putting words on the page and letting no one dissuade you. There is discouragement, but that only comes when we need to step back a bit and rest. If we are patient and don’t enter into the Hades Hall of Abandoned Hope then we’ll find that energy returns. The making of a writier is about writing and never stopping the writing, letting it come together as it does in its own way and in its own time.

As an author, what scares you the most?

What scares me most is the day I’m not scared. Fear is a healthy part of being alive. It  doesn’t have to cripple us. If it does then we’re not listening to something that we need to turn inside and hear. Otherwise, fear especially when conjured within a horror story helps us in life by getting us to face things on the page that symbolically we’ve been wrestling with. We might never have had to face a raging Archbishop; but, what if we’ve been raised in a rigidly religious home and the face of God is manifest in the face of the minister or priest and as you are reading you suddenly, on a primal level, feel the terror of being reproved by the Almighty for having fallen short in your life and being condemned. Well..that kind of fear is a good thing because it brings us face to face with a destructive emotion that can be faced and felt in the story, the reader finding a little catharsis and perspective, and maybe discovering a little more freedom in the process from what just doesn’t make sense. Respecting fear and its power to inform and motivate is something that I hope to do for the rest of my life as I continue to explored horizons of horrifying stories that provide catharsis and a little perspective. When, as an author, I’m open to catharsis as I’m writing, feeling the fear of the character, the young curandera facing the evil archbishop, then I’m open to continuing to change and grow as a writer and never fear ceasing to grow, change, horrify, and perhaps transmogrify.

How has your training and experience as a psychologist impacted your writing in general?

For over thirty years I have treated survivors of the dark side of religion. I chose to write a novel about this human drama. Stories cut to the chase. I’ve written three other books in psychology and spirituality, but there is nothing like stirring the imagination via story to set the mind working and the heart healing.

Thanks for coming, Paul!  We wish you much luck and success with your new book!

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postheadericon Guest Post: The Inspiration Behind When Shmack Happens by Amber Neben

When Shmack Happens coverWhere did I get the inspiration to write When SHMACK Happens? Literarily speaking, I hit the wall, and I hit it HARD!!  My life, my goals, and my next steps were redirected in a span of a few seconds.  Prior to impact, I was on target to win that huge race at The Tour of California, and I was plotting ahead to more cycling goals, maybe even the 2016 Olympic Games.  After the impact, I laid on the pavement while my body screamed at me because it hurt…  SEVERELY.  Blood poured out of my nose and other parts of me.   I was scared and messed up.  But I was awake, and I could move.

In the midst of the pain and fear that filled me on the side of the road and then in the ambulance, I clung to Jesus.  I didn’t understand why or what had just happened.  I didn’t want to be headed to a trauma center, and I definitely didn’t want to have my dreams cut short by another obstacle.  But I clung.  And He filled me with His strength.

Honestly,   I was a miracle to walk away, and a miracle in how fast I recovered.  But even more incredible was that in the aftermath of the crash, I had a peace and a stillness of spirit that was beyond me.  I was very limited to what I could do.  Simply moving was difficult for a few weeks.  However, in spite of the physical trauma I was dealing with, my mind was incredibly clear and crisp, and my heart was not anxious.

I began to think about writing my story, and then God began to pound on my heart “write the story that I have written into your life.”  I had always wanted to write a book, but I had never felt the inspiration to do it until the initial days after the crash.  Although there was a definite tug on my heart to write, I still continued to doubt that I could do it.  I also wasn’t completely convinced I was hearing God accurately, and I only wanted to embark on the journey with His help.  So for two weeks, I prayed often about the idea.

Finally, or desperately, after two weeks of talking to God about everything, I prayed a Gideon like prayer at 5AM.  I know it was 5AM, because I remember checking my phone before getting up to use the bathroom.  My prayer when I laid back down was, “God, if I am hearing you correctly, have Jenna Sampson email me.”  Jenna had written some articles about me for Sports Spectrum, and she would occasionally check on me.  She had promised almost 7 years prior that she would help me write if I ever wanted to.  I hadn’t heard from her in almost a year, but when I got out of bed that same morning, I had an email from Jenna arriving at 5:16AM.  Confirmed.  I needed to write.

And yes, I needed to write!   There was no way a ghost writer or another author could truly understand my journey or share those intimate lessons I had learned as I had been walking,Amber Neben photo struggling, or standing firm in Christ through all the storms.   So I met with Jenna, who agreed to act as my editor, I started praying for words and eloquence, and I embarked on writing WHEN SHMACK HAPPENS.

Link to crash:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4z_6qDX_Yh8

Amber Neben is a decorated international road cyclist with victories in 11 countries and multiple UCI Category 1 stage race wins. She is a 2x Olympian, 2x World Champion, 2x Pan American Champion and 2x National Champion. She holds a B.S. from The University of Nebraska and an M.S. from UC Irvine. Amber and her husband, Jason, reside in Lake Forest, CA. For information on speaking engagements or coaching visit amberneben.com.

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postheadericon First Chapter Reveal: The Last Ancient by Eliot Baker

The Last Ancient 2Title: The Last Ancient
Author: Eliot Baker
Publisher: Burst Books, imprint of Champagne Books
Pages: 316
Genre: Supernatural Thriller, Historical Mystery
Format: Paperback/Kindle

Purchase at AMAZON

Around Nantucket Island, brutal crime scenes are peppered with ancient coins, found by the one man who can unlock their meaning. But what do the coins have to do with the crimes? Or the sudden disease epidemic? Even the creature? And who–or what–left them?

The answer leads reporter Simon Stephenson on a journey through ancient mythology, numismatics, and the occult. Not to mention his own past, which turns out to be even darker than he’d realized; his murdered father was a feared arms dealer, after all. Along the way, Simon battles panic attacks and a host of nasty characters — some natural, others less so — while his heiress fiancee goes bridezilla, and a gorgeous rival TV reporter conceals her own intentions.

First Chapter:

The deer’s blood catches the golden hour light. It radiates throughout the animal’s carcass in fall hues that reflect the island’s rustling red leaves and honey-colored needles littering the sand. Such eerie, blasphemous beauty. I fire shots from my Nikon.

“That’s six. Six deer mutilations this month,” I say to my experts. Click. Click. Click.

Branches partially cover the deer. Its eyes are wet brown marbles rimmed and veined in burning red, as though it had been hung upside down for a day. Its lips are peeled back above the gums in a grimace of broken teeth. Brain matter spills through a crack in the skull. Two yellowjackets buzz over the red pulp. Land. Feed. Hover above their feast. Click. The neck is attached to the body by a flap of hide. One of the deer’s forelegs is missing. Inside the hole in its torso I can see that its entrails have been removed. I get on my elbows and snap pictures from the cold, damp sand. The heart is gone, too.

Dr. Pauline Driscoll, Nantucket’s town biologist, is squatting beside the carcass. She’s furious at Sgt. Brad Fernandez, who is cursing and stomp-cleaning a gore-splattered boot into the sand. She affects his tar-thick Roxbury accent. “Nice shaht cut, ace!” Her silvering French braid swings out the back of her UMass baseball hat as she unpacks measuring tape, sample tubes, and baggies from her turquoise external frame pack. Sgt. Fernadez kicks bloody goo into the bushes.

“Maybe I wanna carry da machete fuh once, Doctor Driscoll,” he says.

Dr. Driscoll mutters and scribbles into her notepad. She is oblivious to her windswept beauty. Her dark eyes shine and sparkle, and she’s maintained her triathlete’s figure despite being on the other side of forty. She’s over a decade older than me, but I understand why Sgt. Fernandez wants to impress her.

Dr. Driscoll carves out an eyeball, coaxing it from the deer’s eye socket with a gloved hand. Tendons follow the jelly marble from the orbital cavity like melted provolone. She saws through the tendons with a retractable scalpel. Fernandez gags. It makes him look like a blushing Boy Scout in his green Environmental Police uniform and billed hat and bulky black utility belt. Driscoll smiles school-girl sweet, dropping the eyeball into a baggie. She offers Fernandez the instrument and baggie, asking him if he’d like to carry the scalpel for once.

Fernandez holds up one hand at her and balls the other over his mouth, gulps twice. “You’re one sick hippy,” he says.

Driscoll hums a macabre rendition of Melanie Safka’s Lay Down as she scoops bits of brain from the crack in the animal’s skull.

I sniff the shrieking wind. It’s bowing the barrens of pitch pines toward our clearing in the scrub oak like gnarled magnetic filaments. I can smell the ocean, almost hear it, but not see it. From our elevated bald spot in the suffocating brush, I can see the sandy path we just traversed. It cuts like a surgical scar through the open conservation land’s tufts of bladed grass and bristling patches of black huckleberry and pasture rose. It winds up Altar Rock into the reddening horizon, where a hunter stands silhouetted on the rim of the valley, binoculars pressed to his face. The strapped shotgun jutting from his shoulder makes him look like a fierce insect with an antenna.

“You poor baby,” says Driscoll, passing a black fine-toothed comb over the deer’s patchy fur. She taps the comb and a dozen ticks fall like grains of volcanic sand into a plastic dish. “Those teeth, that pelt–man, you were one sick fella.”

Fernandez breathes, gets down on one knee, and starts shaving samples from the spine with his own folding knife. He then slices off chunks of muscle and organs that he places into baggies under Driscoll’s direction. Click.

“I’m bustin’ heads, and you can quote me on that,” says Fernandez through clenched teeth behind his trimmed mustache. “Someone was huntin’ before dawn.”

“Or something,” I say, snapping close-ups of the spray radius. Drops of blood shine like rubies on wooden pendants in the foreground against a hazy cloud of thorns. The experts exchange looks and groans.

“Anyways, this is roundabouts where da Pike brothers said dey heard something freaky ’bout an hour ago,” says Fernandez. “Said it was like a deer cry, but kinda mutant, with loads a struggle.”

Dr. Driscoll stands and examines the sand and rocks for tracks. She picks up the machete she used to carve a trail here through the scrub oak. “Man, what is wrong with people?” she says and hacks at the thorny curtain with skills she picked up surveying birds in the Amazon and in Africa. She asks Fernandez if he can find any boot prints. He shakes his head.

I ask them to speculate on a predator. No dice.

“How about speculating on how it got in here then?” I say. “We lost the tracks and the blood trail way long ago.”

“Good point,” admits Dr. Driscoll.

The deer’s remaining foreleg suddenly stiffens as though saluting, hitting Driscoll’s thigh.

“Oh, fuck me hard on Sunday!” says Dr. Driscoll, jumping into Sgt. Fernandez’s arms.

He whispers, “Relax, it’s a fresh kill. And sure, Sunday’s good for me.”

Driscoll shoves Fernandez, and says to me, “Don’t you dare put that in the article.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say, and try to smile. Can’t. I’m shaken.

Shotguns crow across the windswept prairie of mid-island Nantucket. I swear and fumble my notepad. Scan the sky. Indeed, the staccato cracks are like iron roosters. They announce a sunrise as raw and ruddy as the November leaves rattling in their stunted trees. Twisting, African-looking things that recall whittled broccoli dipped in flaming tar. For hunters, the day has begun.

I gather my creased notepad and shake the sand off the New England Daily Tribune logo. Dr. Driscoll winks at me and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Between machete slashes at the scrub oak and the branches covering the carcass, she whispers about the feverish late fall and its effect on the island’s various micro-ecologies. She rolls roots and flowers between her fingers and tastes a wizened blueberry. Shotguns crackle from Squam Swamp behind us. I remind her I’m not channeling John Muir for this piece no matter how eloquent her reveries.

She slips into one anyhow. “Oh man, but can’t you see it? The beauty? The history?” Dr. Driscoll squints, hacks at something, and shrugs, continuing, “Wampanoag Indians shucking shellfish around campfires.” Hack. “Quakers praying at the meeting house.” Hack. “Thousands of sheep, just grazing the New World forest into treeless Scottish heathlands.” Hack. “Whalers dragging their kills to shore from longboats – whoa, baby!”

She jumps back, swinging the machete in front of her feet. I peer through my camera lens, snapping photos. Movement? Something big and soundless, deep in the brush, like a disembodied shadow. It’s gone before I flex my trigger finger. I blink away cold stinging sweat and look above my camera into the barbed-wire mesh of scrub oak.

“You saw that?” I say.

“Dude, how could I miss it?” says Dr. Driscoll. “That was an epic rat!”

“Oh. But… Never mind.”

Driscoll gets on one knee beside Fernandez and jots notes in her pad. I point out some coppery feathers on the other side of the clearing. She tells me to be quiet while she’s writing. I ask about the marks on the deer’s back. She says silence is gold. Fair enough.

They don’t know I dropped out of Harvard Medical School my fourth year. I’ve also been on safari in Tanzania. I understand trauma and slaughter. The slash marks in the deer’s neck and shoulders are deep and precise. Its back is torn up. Something mounted it and ripped its head off, like a giant hyena or a wolf or even an exotic hybrid, but with the strength of a bear. The missing limb and heart and the disembowelment are confusing, however. Those look surgical. Meanwhile, the skull looks bashed, cracked open; yup, there are blood stains on the boulder. And the marks on the animal’s back resemble puncture wounds. Click.

A sunray shoots through the sharp woody tangle. Lights up something beside the feathers. It glows like a golden strand of spider web. I point it out, but Fernandez tells me to zip it. I salute him.

A cloud passes over the sun. The golden thread dims. I pluck it from beside the feathers before it disappears. It lights up again in my hand. The thing’s weird resilience and luster is captivating. Probably a hair, but more like a small-gauge acupuncture needle. As I pocket it, something glows blue and then extinguishes in the brush ahead of me. Maybe the sun hit on colored glass or a butterfly or a blue bird.

Twigs snap in the distance. Then more. We share a silent what-the-hell? moment. The rustling and snapping gets louder. Closer. We discern growling. Something is crashing along the path that Dr. Driscoll just carved with her machete. I suck in breath and swivel my head. Fernandez is up, his hand on his Glock. No predators on Nantucket, right, Sergeant? Even Dr. Driscoll’s dusky face goes pale.

“Hello?” Fernandez keeps calling out. Dr. Driscoll and I join him. The crashing gets nearer. The snorting and growling is wet and urgent.

“Three people here,” says Fernandez. The snarls sound hungry. “Put your guns up, three people here.” His voice is high and strangled.

He unbuckles the holster on his Glock.

A Rottweiler and a blue hound burst through the opening on long vinyl leashes. Two shotgun-toting, orange-clad hunters follow them. Fernandez sighs, visibly relieved. I’m not.

“Oh hell yeah, now that’s a kill!” says Dennis Pike, struggling to hold back his big Rottweiler from Driscoll and the deer.

“Looks like a fuckin’ zombie piñata!” says his brother, Ramone Pike, pulling his own hound’s leash against his chest.

The Pike brothers. Local fishermen with scars and missing teeth above fishnet beards and burly shoulders. Ramone locks eyes with me. He doesn’t smile.

“Beautiful morning,” I say. He spits brown ooze into the sand.

We both remember the time they pulled fishing knives on me at a beach party. I was fifteen. The Pikes, a couple years older, informed me it was for locals only. I idiotically protested that I was a life-long summer kid. That a popular local girl had invited me. I didn’t know she’d dated Ramone in middle school. I remember my face feeling like it collapsed. Falling onto the sand. Looking up at them through a swollen eye in a kind of awe at the way the shadows of the campfire distorted their blockish teenage features into those of middle-aged convicts.

Sgt. Fernandez buckles in his gun and exclaims that they scared the bejeezus out of him. More rustling and heavy breathing on the path. We look up. Thick hands slap at the shrub opening.

The fat man steps through and smiles and nods hello at me. Swears at the greedy talons of scrub oak clawing at his shoulder. I can only gape. He whistles at the deer and sidles his sweaty bulk beside Dr. Driscoll and Sgt. Fernandez, asking chummily what they think did this to the deer. His heavy working class speech and twinkle-eyed charm are disarming. Driscoll speculates on predators, scavengers, disease, and demented pranksters.

“Gorman–what the hell?” I say.

Norm Gorman’s belly heaves beneath his tattered cheap leather jacket and ill-fitting orange hunting vest. The unlit cigar between his thick Irish-Saxon lips wags like a wet, vulgar tongue. He wipes his brow with the back of his hand, holding a reporter’s notebook with the New England Daily Tribune logo.

“Oh, you know me; can’t stay away from Nantucket’s rugged beauty, historic charm, the thrill of the hunt, and all that other hackneyed crap you keep regurgitatin’,” says Gorman, sucking the air like a milkshake. “And when my new buddies here heard what good pals me and you was, they took the day off the boats to go huntin’.”

“You know Nantucket’s my beat,” I say. “This is my story.”

Gorman flashes his big, coffee-toothed grin and takes notes above Dr. Driscoll. My heart pounds. Harder and harder, then arhythmically.

The scrub oak closes in on me. I’m being sucked out of my skin from the top of my head. My vision darkens. My throat swells. My heart throbs. Panic rises, a dark, fathomless tide. The adrenaline sprays through my veins like a punctured artery. I’ll freeze if I don’t start moving.

“Poaching my story won’t solve your problems,” I say, frustrated with the weakness in my voice. “It’s not my fault you cozied up with dirty cops. I’m telling Maggie you’re here. She’ll get my back.”

Dennis lets his dog loose at me. Yanks the leash against his chest. The Rottweiler growls, inches from my face.

“Try that shit again and I’ll have your dog,” says Fernandez. Dennis curls the corner of his lip beneath his grizzly bear beard and says his hand slipped.

The samples have been collected.

“I’ll get these to Doc Mulcahey,” says Dr. Driscoll. “Guys, don’t molest the carcass in the meantime. Got it?”

Ramone Pike belches. Dennis Pike spits on the ground and mutters. Sgt. Fernandez shakes his head, says, “Your mother must be so proud,” and helps Dr. Driscoll into her backpack.

Dennis turns his shoulder into mine as he walks past me to the opening. I meet his glare; shrink away. His eyes–they’re not just blood-shot, they’re murky red, darting about like ping-pong balls. Wild. Crazed. His sinewy middle finger waves at me like a billy club.

“Don’t misquote me, summer kid,” he says with carrion breath. His shotgun dangles from one hand. “We gotta square up, you and me.”

“What are you talking about?” I say. But Dennis staggers away. Ramone follows.

“Stop using so many fucking adverbs,” says Ramone. His clear tenor conveys unexpected intelligence. He was almost good-looking back when he had a full set of teeth and starred as the high school football team’s bone-crushing middle linebacker. His older brother, Dennis, wreaked havoc on the defensive line like a shroomed-up berserker. “Write like you got a pair. Not all flowery and passive. Read some Bukowski.” I tip my Nantucket Whalers cap and say thanks for the tip. The brothers follow their dogs out of the clearing.

Driscoll and Fernandez disappear into the underbrush behind them. I try to follow, but Gorman grabs my elbow and wraps a pork-and-whiskey-smelling arm around my shoulders. He asks me about the mutilations. “Just curious,” he says. “Not looking to steal your byline, honest, kid!” Something about his flat-toothed coffee grin makes you fear its disappearance.

I yank my arm away. I’m trembling. The yellow acid floods my brain, frying my neural circuits. I tell him not to touch me. My voice cracks. He gets in my grill and tells me to go screw. My eyes twitch and bubble. The world flashes hot and dark. “Just leave,” I say. “Go home.” He pokes my chest and says he’ll do whatever he wants on his own time. I’m at the precipice. Darkness surrounds me. There’s something beyond that heavy black membrane but… I don’t know. I’ve never punched through it. The darkness always wins.

I open my mouth. Words die in my chest. I’m frozen. Gorman chuckles and says, “See youz.” He ambles back to the trail, humming Dirty Old Town.

I wait in the clearing for the panic to ebb, for my senses to return. A monarch butterfly flutters onto the deer’s ear. Click. The two yellowjackets buzz like tiny chainsaws over the brains, smashing and stabbing each other with their stingers. One tumbles to the sand, dead. Click. The other buzzes in a sickly circle over the snout, then drops lifeless to the earth. Click.

My phone trembles against my thigh. I look at the text message. From Judy. SUCCESS! reads the subject. My breath returns. She just locked in a time this summer for our wedding at the yacht club and a reception at the golf club. I don’t want to know what her father is paying. But I smile. I can’t wait to see her tonight. I picture clingy material hanging from her pale, soft skin–

A sharp gust kicks sand into my face. I look back at the deer as I shield my eyes. Something glints in the gathering pool of sunlight behind its head. Squinting, I walk to it. Metal, half-revealed. I prize it from the sandy earth. My lips part. I lick them. My chest catches fire. A coin. A very valuable coin. From Oenoe, capital of Ikaria, an ancient Greek island. It’s perhaps twenty-three hundred years old. Artemis, Goddess of hunting (among other things) and patron deity of the island of Ikaria, is on one side. A bull is on the other.

“What the hell?” I murmur.

A noise–not quite animal, not quite twigs snapping–rumbles behind the deer carcass. Blue sparks in the shadows. Tiny bolts of electricity zap through my chest. Not panic. I’m excited. Like a teenager glimpsing a flash of silk panties.

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postheadericon My Angelic Journey by Evangelist Patricia Kinard Book Blitz – Win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


362160_frontcoverTitle: My Angelic Journey
Author: Evangelist Patricia Kinard
Publisher: iUniverse
Pages: 148
Genre: Religion/Inspirational
Format: Ebook

Purchase at AMAZON

For many years, evangelist Patricia Kinard lived a life of illusions. She soon realized that life wasn’t about her plans, but rather those of the Father, who defines a purpose for every situation. In My Angelic Journey, Kinard narrates her journey after she discovered the true purpose God had for her.

In this memoir, she details her transformation from a child with a measure of faith into a teenager with increased faith, and finally into a mature woman with undoubting faith who was blessed with a vision and later instructed to become an evangelist. It shows how her trials and physical and emotional losses were replaced by joy when she put her faith and trust in God.

A powerful, firsthand testimony, My Angelic Journey offers a look into the life of a sinner who, after receiving a call from God, walked from a life of darkness into one of glorious light. It shares the story of one woman, chosen by God, who now guides others into a life of prosperity, dignity, love, and goodness based on a Christian foundation.


Patricia Kinard is an evangelist for Faith in God Ministries, a nonprofit organization. She earned a bachelor of science degree in multidisciplinary studies, focusing in theology and accounting, from Liberty University and has worked for the government for more than twenty years. She lives in Montross, Virginia.

Patricia is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one $25 Amazon Gift Certificate or Paypal Cash.
  • This giveaway begins July 1 and ends on July 15.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on Thursday, July 17 .
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!


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postheadericon 5 Things You Should Know About Writing by Lisa Burstein, author of The Possibility of Us

TPoU_1600 (1)Title
: The Possibility of Us
Author: Lisa Burstein
Publisher: Entangled Embrace
Pages: 150
Genre: Contemporary
Format: Ebook

One weekend together could change everything…

When her friend called to tell her about the funeral, Cassie wanted to say no. She had enough to handle with her own hollow existence. But she knew she should pay her respects to her old camp counselor…as long as her ex, Ben, wouldn’t be there.

Except Ben is there. Still gorgeous, still angry, and still able to penetrate her defenses with one intense stare. All the reasons they left each other in a flurry of heartache start to fall away over one long, snowy weekend.

But tough Cassie can’t truly open up to Ben when she knows confessing her secrets will leave her raw, defenseless. And the possibility of forever might not be enough to gamble on all the impossibilities of now.

For More Information

5 Things You Should Know About Writing

I don’t care what anyone says, it is HARDER than it looks.

If you don’t love it, don’t do it because eventually it does actually become work.

When you are drafting always leave yourself in an easy place to start writing again. I like to have a few lines of the next chapter written and ready before I start a session. That way you can’t ever say, “I don’t know what to write.”

Remember that dialogue should be your characters talking to each other, not talking to the reader.

When people say “find your voice: it’s kind of bullshit. You already have your voice, you’re merely honing it.

Lisa Burstein is a tea seller by day and a writer by night. She received her MFA in Creative Writing from the Inland Northwest Center for Writers at Eastern Washington University. She is the author of Pretty Amy, The Next Forever, Dear Cassie and Sneaking Candy. She lives in Portland, Oregon with her very patient husband, a neurotic dog and two cats.

Her latest book is the contemporary romance, The Possibility of Us.

For More Information

  • Visit Lisa Burstein’s website.
  • Connect with Lisa on Facebook.
  • Connect with Lisa on Twitter.

Lisa is giving away 2 Believe in Love or Dwell in Possibility Pendants (US only) and two $15 Amazon gift cards!

Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • Four winners will be chosen via Rafflecopter.
  • This giveaway begins July 1 and ends on July 15.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on Thursday, July 17 .
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!



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postheadericon Crystal Lotus by Jinna Van Vliet Book Blitz – Win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


Crystal LotusTitle: Crystal Lotus
Author: Jinna Van Vliet
Publisher: Xlibris
Pages: 129
Genre: Biography/Autobiography
Format: Ebook

Purchase at AMAZON

The Harmonic convergence in 1987 launched the awakening of the Mass Consciousness into the realization that human consciousness is rising into a higher frequency. Coined as the Big Shift it created many guidelines to help with this transition process. Crystal Lotus is just one such guide gifted to us by the Divine Feminine Creator Energy through one of her Aspects, the Goddess Quan Yin.


Jinna is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card!


Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one $25 Amazon Gift Certificate or Paypal Cash.
  • This giveaway begins July 1 and ends on July 15.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on Thursday, July 17 .
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!


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