Baksheesh by DS Kane - Q&A and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. DS Kane will be awarding ebook versions of the whole Spies Lie series (which includes Bloodridge, DeathByte, Swiftshadow, GrayNet, and Baksheesh) to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A special welcome to DS Kane who was brave enough to agree to answer a few of our nosy questions. First off, why do you write in your genre? What draws you to it?

Two reasons why I write technothrillers, are:

First, I’ve spent my entire working life at the junction of the financial industry and politics, particularly within the technologies supporting both. As a covert operative, I wrote reports detailing what I’d done, and much of that work product was borderline fiction. My field work was sometimes dangerous. It often came with an adrenaline rush. Now, writing technothrillers, I try to give my readers some of the same things I felt.

Second, after a decade working undercover, I was torn between missing the dangerous work I’d done, and wanting never to do it again. Writing fiction was the closest I could come to being back in the field.

Getting to relive it variously--makes sense to me. What research did you need to do?

The world I’ve built for readers is quite real, with the exception of my characters, who are similar, but not exact copies of the people I worked with. My plot lines and ideas for my books often come from the evening news.

Every report I read in the news about politics or technology sparks my interest. For example, most reports about Washington, DC are stories made to cover up some darker truth. Most times, people in our capitol don’t tell the truth; I’ve seen many of the cover-ups first hand. What I ask myself is, what is the hidden darker story this one might mask? Sometimes, during the year it takes me to finish a book, the truth will come out, and then my story looks like a mix of fiction and non-fiction.

I'm going to start looking at the news with a different eye now. Name one thing you learned from your hero/heroine.

I write about a group of six who work together, and in each book, a different team member takes center stage. What I’ve learned is that even when they try to trust each other, they often make mistakes which lead to them doubting whether trust is ever possible. In my own life, I’ve learned to forgive friends their mistakes, since the mistakes are often unintended. My characters taught me that.

Do you have any odd or interesting writing quirks, habits or superstitions?

When I’ve spent my day producing a story’s draft, often, while I sleep, my characters will visit my dreams. They often complain about the way I’ve treated them in my scenes, and sometimes tell me they refuse to do what I want them to. In these dreams, I sometimes find myself threatening them because my plot line requires them to do something they don’t want to do. When the night ends, more often than not, I’ll change what I wrote to make it more in line with what my character told me they want to do.

Are you a plotter or pantser?

I plot extensively. Before writing the first six books of the series, I wrote a series bible so I knew the arcs of each character across the entire series. Then I drafted outlines of each individual book. Finally, I wrote drafts of each book and when I finished, I reviewed them against both the series bible and the book’s outline, to ensure consistency for my readers.

Look to your right – what’s sitting there?

My desk is a total mess. Paper scraps, notes, software boxes, pieces of obsolete computer hardware, ballpoint pens, batteries, all are scattered there. And yes, I can find anything I need in under a few seconds. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I’d promised Andrea, my wonderful wife, I’d clean my office up after I reached book 3’s publication date, but that was well over a year ago. Now, it’s a broken promise.

Anything new coming up from you? What?

I’m finishing production of ProxyWar, Book 6 of the Spies Lie series. It should be out in early December. If anyone among the intelligence agencies of the United States reads it, I hope it inspires them to craft a disaster plan to protect America for the coming cyber war that will occur someday, possibly soon. America is totally unprotected for this event, and tens of millions would die when our electric grids stops working.

Scary to think about a cyber war. Do you have a question for our readers?

Yes, I do: How much food and water do you have stored to protect yourself in case of disaster? Enough to last a few weeks? One week? A few days? If you live above the seventh floor in a multi-story building, how would you get out (and return) if the elevators stopped working? This could be a life and death concern for you. It will feature prominently in my upcoming work.

She spied for her country, blackmailed her president, and ran from more threats than she can remember. But when the love of her life proposes, covert agent Cassandra Sashakovich is finally ready to settle down. Unfortunately her past is not quite ready to let her walk away.

Old enemies—including a vengeful president—want her dead, and they’re willing to attack her loved ones, including her adopted teenage daughter, if that’s what it takes.

But Cassandra has other pressing problems—a world leader is assassinated and an arm dealer’s revenge threatens to lead to nuclear war. Now Cassandra and her security firm, Swiftshadow must defuse the threats and find a way to outmaneuver those who threaten not only her family, but her country as well.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Lee Ainsley, her boyfriend, knelt, holding up the tiny ring with its miniature diamond in his hand, offering it to her. He seemed to sense the tsunami of emotions overpowering her. Feelings mixed with logic, pointing in every direction away from what she truly wanted.

He grinned slyly, like a child who’d waited too long for Christmas. “What’s your answer? Cassandra Sashakovich, I'm hopelessly in love with you. Please marry me.”

Her eyes had popped wide open the first time he asked. Now, she tried to speak but her lips wouldn't move.

She’d shown him her heart, her only private place where thought had no currency.

She forced herself to moisten her lips through the pain, preparing to speak. The voice inside her head told her not to try and sort all of it out before she answered him.

Time to feel? Time to think?

She realized there wasn’t time to sort this out properly. Cassie tried thinking anyway, since—for her—thinking always happened before any action. She wondered what she really wanted. Of course she wanted Lee. And the voice in the back of her head stated bluntly that having Lee would be dangerous for him. She wasn’t safe. No one with her could ever be safe.

Now, what she had originally dreamed of, being wanted and loved by an intelligent, good-looking man, was about to become her dream come true. But Lee had been targeted for death because of her. Accepting his proposal would only exaggerate his peril. And, Ann, her adopted daughter would be at greater risk with both her and Lee as choke points. Furthermore, it would be so much easier for any enemies of Cassie to use her family as leverage against her. Yet, if she declined, she'd acknowledge that her enemies had succeeded in destroying her life.

Cassie sighed. It was a lose-lose situation.

Her heart leaped at the sight of the miniscule ring. Where had he bought it? When had he had time? It had to have been just before he was picked up by the FBI and taken to Guantanamo Bay; it was so small that he’d probably bought it the day after they’d left the Israeli embassy in Washington, DC.

Cassie realized, ohmigod, he’s been planning this for months.

She heard Ann tiptoe down the stairs. She saw the teen’s reflection, watching from just beyond the kitchen doors, facing Cassie’s back. Ann’s ragged hair had been dyed back to its natural mousy brown, from the purple and pink she’d colored it to disguise herself when she ran from a Saudi assassin weeks ago. Ann held Gizmo, their small, black kitten in her arms. She smiled. “Do it, mom,” she whispered.

Time to choose.

About the Author:

DS Kane worked in the field of covert intelligence for over a decade. During that time, his cover was his real name, and he was on the faculty of NYU's Stern Graduate School of Business. He traveled globally for clients including government and military agencies, the largest banks, and Fortune 100 corporations, and while in-country, he did side jobs for the government. One of the banks DS Kane investigated housed the banking assets of many of the world's intelligence agencies and secret police forces, including the CIA and NSA. Much of his work product was pure but believable fiction, lies he told, and truths he concealed. Secrets that--if revealed--might have gotten him killed. When his cover got blown, he fled the field and moved 3,000 miles.

Now, DS Kane is a former spy, still writing fiction. Through his novels, he exposes the way intelligence agencies craft fiction for sale to sway their countries and manipulate their national policy, driving countries into dangerous conflicts.

To learn more about DS Kane and his books, visit www.dskane.com or join him on Facebook for book giveaways and details on espionage.

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Baksheesh-Bribes-Book-Spies-Volume/dp/0986232122
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25836879-baksheesh-bribes

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Traitor's Curse by Beth Trissel - Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Beth is awarding a $30 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn commenter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Halifax, North Carolina, 1783.

Captain Stuart Monroe returns home from the Revolutionary War to find Thornton Hall threatened by a peacetime foe: debt. He knows the location of a treasure amassed to pay for the capture of Benedict Arnold that would restore his manor to its former glory. The catch, it's hidden in the graveyard, and coveted by old enemies.

Hettie Fairfax inherited the Sight from her Cherokee ancestors, and her otherworldly visitors warn her, and Stuart, away from the buried treasure. Half-dead from fever, she delivers a message: the treasure is cursed. But will he believe a girl half out of her mind with illness? Even when a very real enemy attempts to poison her? Stuart soon wants to marry Hettie, but she fears her "odd ways" will blemish his reputation. The spirits have their own agenda, however, and the battle against darkness tests everything the couple holds dear, including their love for each other.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Stuart clasped her shoulders. She was flesh and blood beneath his grip, yet seemed not of this world. “What did he say?”

“To watch for your coming.”

“How could they possibly anticipate my visit?”

“That has not yet been revealed.”

Her answer baffled him, as did she. “Why did you call me master? Are you a servant?”

“No.”

He’d doubted she was in anyone’s employ. Her smooth hands, opulent coverlet, and refined manner, all bespoke gentility. And she smelled of violets, a costly scent.

He gazed deeply into those mesmerizing eyes. “Why are you here?”

“I seek the living among the dead.”

A peculiar reply from the haunting stranger. “Who?”

“You. Stuart Monroe.”

Again, the sensation of ants scattering down the nape of his neck. “How did you know I would come?”

“I was told. In a dream.”

She spoke like one in a dream. The cold mist, the woman—an apparition in the fog—seemed unreal. Yet she was no ghost.

“You can foresee events?” A sense of dread possessed him.

“In glimpses. Your father appeared to me.” Her barely perceptible voice faded entirely, and her eyes fluttered, then closed. She swayed against him, any further explanation muffled by his coat.

Stuart held her fast and kept her from sliding to the cold earth. What did his father have to do with this visitation? Was the woman in his arms some sort of witch?

About the Author:Married to her high school sweetheart, Beth Trissel lives on a farm in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia surrounded by her children, grandbabies, and assorted animals. An avid gardener, her love of herbs and heirloom plants figures into her work. The rich history of Virginia, the Native Americans, and the people who journeyed here from far beyond her borders are at the heart of her inspiration. She’s especially drawn to colonial America and the drama of the American Revolution. In addition to historical romance, she also writes time travel, paranormal romance, YA fantasy, and nonfiction.

Blog: https://bethtrissel.wordpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bctrissel?fref=ts
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BethTrissel
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Beth-Trissel/e/B002BLLAJ6/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1435416800&sr=8-1

Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Five Things You Might Not Know About Felicity Young - Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Felicty will be awarding an eCopy of Flashpoint to 3 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Five Things You Might Not Know About Felicity Young

Thank you for having me and for giving me this option; it’s a pleasant change to the usual run-of-the mill questions.
OK, 5 things — and most of them embarrassing, I’m afraid.

1. I am a passionate animal lover.

A kitten was trapped in the wall cavity of our newly wallpapered bedroom. I got hold of a circular saw and drilled multiple holes in the wall. Our wall ended up looking like a piece of Swiss cheese and still I could not find the kitten. Finally, on about the tenth hole, I found it alive and well resting on an internal ledge about half way up the cavity.

We called the kitten ‘divorce.’

2. I am a car thief.

When we were newly married we borrowed a variety of old-bomb cars. One evening my husband brought home an old station wagon, the kind that was popular at the time with surfers, having a wind-down back window. He informed me that this was the car that I would be driving the next day. The next morning I took it to the shops where I filled about seven shopping bags. I returned to the car and discovered that the key did not fit the driver’s door. Most of the cars we had borrowed over the previous few months had had some kind of defect (the previous vehicle was missing a door altogether) and I didn’t think much about it. I unwound the back window and threw the shopping into the back and then proceeded to squeeze myself through it. Oh, I forget to mention, I was about nine months pregnant at the time.

After much puffing and panting I heaved myself into the driver’s seat, only to discover a strange pair of sunglasses sitting on the dash.

I had broken into the wrong car.

3. I once ambushed a knicker thief.

I caught him in the act of riffling through bedroom drawers in my friend’s bedroom. Seriously, that was one of the most frightening experiences I had ever had. I vaguely knew him, and also knew that he had previously charged with assault and had only just been released from prison. I played up to his story about needing to break into my friend's house to use the toilet, and got away unscathed. This encounter influenced an event in my novel Flashpoint.

4. I am a volunteer fire person.

I am a five foot three, 55 kilo grandmother and an active member of our local bushfire brigade. I once leapt over a fence to extinguish flames that were licking at the backdoor of a house, only to land on several drums of fuel.

I am a five foot three, 55 kilo grandmother, fireman, and champion high jumper.

5. I was once a nurse.

And my (rusting) nursing skills are still sometimes required. A few years ago I was summoned to a neighbour’s house where an unfortunate man had cut his finger off with a circular saw. I bound up the pulsating stump, but the man refused to let me take him to the hospital until we had found the finger. I took the saw apart, combed the long grass and sorted through the woodpile, but to no avail. Helping me with this chore was the man’s young kelpie. Whenever I tossed a stick of wood from the pile, the kelpie would leap after it and catch it with his teeth.

It didn’t take long for me to work out what had happened to the finger.

You can run from everything but your fears.

Three years after a gang brutally murdered his wife and son, Sergeant Cam Fraser has returned with his daughter Ruby to the country town where he was raised - a town too small for trouble. But then a body is found on the school grounds, badly burned and unrecognisable. Who in Glenroyd could possibly be a murderer? And why?

This violent crime plunges Cam straight into a baffling and deadly investigation, where nothing is as it seems. From shady cop Vince to the secretive Smithsons who run the school to the local bikie gang who may still want him dead, Cam has his hands full with suspects. Not to mention Jo, his daughter's teacher, whom he can't keep his mind off of ...

But the danger is coming closer to home, and Cam is running out of time to solve the case. Will he be able to protect Ruby and stop the killer? Or will everything go up in flames?

Enjoy an excerpt:

The atmosphere in the staffroom loomed like a headache. Cam realised it was caused by more than the chemical smell of the surrounding newness, and silently berated himself for allowing Vince to tackle the first round of interviews on his own.

Vince introduced Cam to Anne Smithson, the principal, and her husband Jeffrey, explaining that he’d allowed the other staff members to leave.

Cam remembered reading about the couple in his wife’s Old Glenroydians’ Magazine. They’d been recruited from the eastern states by the School Board in a last ditch effort to prevent the school from closing down. Assisted by the generous endowment of an old girl, they had, according to the magazine, been performing restorative miracles, including an ambitious building renovation program.

Mr Smithson rose from the table and offered Cam a firm, moist hand but no smile, in keeping with the sobriety of the occasion.

‘As I was explaining to the Constable here,’ he said, ‘we weren’t even on the school grounds the day of the fire. We’d been to the city for the day –’

‘They have an apartment in the city – all right for some eh, Sarge?’ Vince exaggerated a wink. Cam felt the temperature in the room drop several degrees.

Mr Smithson shot Vince a look that suggested he’d just picked him off the sole of his shoe. His wife frowned when Cam shook her hand, telling him with her deep grey eyes that she’d had about as much of the Senior Constable as she could endure.

Mr Smithson continued in a tone of restrained calm. ‘The first we knew about the body was when Joanne arrived at Monday’s staff meeting, late as always.’ He caught his wife’s eye in a way that suggested this topic had been discussed before. ‘And broke the news.’

Anne Smithson nodded her agreement. ‘We’ve given our statements. May we go home now, Sergeant?’

‘I won’t keep you much longer, Mrs Smithson. Please bear with me for just five more minutes.’

Anne Smithson pursed her lips, the only sign of impatience she gave. Her ash blonde hair, stretched tight against her skull, was fastened at the back with a tortoise-shell clip. She sat in her straight-backed chair, hands clasped in her lap, her eyes half-closed. Cam wondered if she was reciting her getting-through-appointments-with-ranting-parents mantra. He knew the signs; he’d used the technique often enough himself on tedious witnesses.

Jeffrey smoothed down his thin moustache and beat a soft tattoo on the table’s surface, waiting for Cam to finish skimming through the witness statement forms. When Cam met his eye the drumming abruptly stopped. Then, as if deciding the ordeal had lasted long enough, Jeffrey pushed his chair back and climbed to his feet. A small round belly peeped through a gap in his blazer when he indicated the door to his wife with a tilt of his head.

Cam held out his hand for her to stay where she was. ‘Mrs Smithson,’ he said. ‘At the moment the body is unidentifiable, but sometimes people have vague ideas about who a victim could be. Can you make a guess? Have you been aware of any itinerants hanging around the school grounds? Did any of your groundsmen not turn up for work this morning? Have you given anyone permission to camp on the grounds during the school holidays?’

Mrs Smithson’s thin fingers reached for the double string of pearls resting on the bosom of her silk blouse. The nervous mannerism did not escape Cam. He had a fleeting glimpse of the kind of vulnerability the headmistress of an elite school would be forced to hide.

‘No, Sergeant, although there have been plenty of people coming and going all holidays to work on the renovations. I know there were men here yesterday,’ she said. ‘I suppose one of the builders might have decided to go for a walk and accidentally started the bushfire.’

Cam turned to Vince. ‘Check with the builders. See if there was anyone away from work yesterday who should have been there.’

The big man gave a nod.

Mrs Smithson rose from the table with a waft of Chanel. Cam said, ‘Thank you for your cooperation. I don’t think we’ll be needing to ask you any more questions for the moment.’ He smiled. Number 5 had always been his wife’s favourite. When she moved to stand by her husband, he noticed she was the taller by about three inches.

Mrs Smithson gave Cam a tight smile back. ‘Please turn the lights off when you go.’

Vince grunted out a reply. When the Smithsons turned to leave, he caught Cam’s eye and flicked the end of his nose with his finger. Cam ignored him and glanced back to one of the forms on the table. He addressed the departing couple.

‘Before you go, I’d like to have a bit more of a chat with Ms Tilly, the science teacher.’ He tapped at the form in front of him with his pen. ‘It says here she lives in a flat at the school. Mind pointing me in the right direction?’

‘I hope it won’t take long. We need to get home; it’s been a long day,’ Mr Smithson said.

‘I quite understand. I don’t need you to come with me, just tell me where I can find her.’

‘This way,’ Mr Smithson said, leading Cam away from his wife into the vestibule. He glanced back at the staffroom and gripped Cam’s arm. No longer within earshot of his wife, he dropped his previous tone of forced politeness and spoke through clenched teeth.

‘My wife and I have done everything in our power to cooperate with the police over this unfortunate incident. I want you to know that we found Constable Petrowski’s blunt questioning very disturbing. The details he gave us about the condition of the body were totally unnecessary. It was as if he was deliberately trying to upset us, to bully us into taking some kind of responsibility for this tragic accident.’

Cam worked hard not to show his irritation with Vince. One of the first rules of a preliminary interview is to keep the witnesses on side, talk to them in a relaxed manner, steer the questions in a way that would put them at ease and encourage them to do the talking. It seemed the only thing Vince had encouraged was aggravation. It was going to take a lot of smoothing over to get the Smithsons back on track.

‘I apologise on his behalf. I’ll have a word with him and I’ll be happy to assist if you wish to make a formal complaint,’ Cam said.

Mr Smithson thought for a moment. ‘I might just do that. I’ll discuss the matter with my wife. In the meantime, if you wish to re-address this topic, Sergeant, please ring in advance for an appointment and speak to me. It is not necessary for my wife to hear all the gruesome details. I’m sure I can answer any further questions you might have. She doesn’t have to be included.’

As he was also irritated by the man’s arrogant tone, Cam could imagine how he and Vince had goaded each other. He shrugged off the hand that gripped his arm.

‘I quite understand, Mr Smithson, but I’m afraid I’ll probably have to speak to both you and your wife again. Until then, good day, sir.’

About the Author:

Felicity Young was born in Germany and educated in the United Kingdom whilst her parents were posted around the world with the British Army. In 1976 the family settled in Perth. Felicity trained as a nurse followed by an arts degree. In 1990 the family moved from the city and established a Suffolk sheep farm in Gidgegannup WA. Here she studied music, reared orphan kangaroos and started writing.

Website: http://www.felicityyoung.com/
Blog: http://felicityyoungblog.com
Facebook: Facebook

Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt from "Saving Scrooge" by Gwen Gardner - MAYHEM IN THE AIR

This book is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding a $40 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

From Amazon bestselling and popular science fiction and fantasy authors comes Mayhem in the Air, a supernatural anthology of ten thrilling tales. Meet hot robots, hungry winds and the goddess of chaos. Explore alien planets, purgatorial realms, and a shocking place where people bury the living with their dead. Mayhem in the Air is the second, long-awaited story collection from the dynamic and inventive Untethered Realms group.

Read an exclusive excerpt from "Saving Scrooge" by Gwen Gardner: Marley was absorbed in thought as he waited for Newman’s departure. He wondered what Heaven would be like when he finally made it. Maybe it would be a touch boring, but he’d heard they had excellent wine. Hell, who was he kidding? The first thing he’d do was sign up for reincarnation. Get back into the game of life. Women, wine, and…

“I’m ready, sir.” Newman appeared at his elbow. Dressed in black from head to toe in a hooded cloak, he was an impressive figure. He’d even gotten the attention of the unnaturals, the not-quite-human-anymore mutants that lurked in dark corners, skulking through the Netherworld on the periphery, up to who knew what.

“Right. You look the part, Mr., uh, Just Newman. Perfect.” Marley patted his shoulders and pulled the hood forward so that it appeared Newman had no face. “Now remember. Don’t say a word. Scrooge won’t know what to do if he can’t use his words.” He turned away, but then remembered something. “See what you can do about that ugly-arse nightcap, too, why don’t you. This is an intervention after all.”

Newman’s lip twitched but he didn’t smile. “Yes, sir.”

About the Authors:
,br> River Fairchild is somewhat odd, brandishes a dry sense of humor, owned by several cats. Lives in a fantasy world. A fabricator of magic. Makes stuff up and spins tales about it. Believes in Faerie crossings and never staying in one place for very long. Speculative Fiction wordsmith. The secret to her stories? Spread lies, blend in truths, add a pinch of snark and a dash of tears. Escape into her world. She left the porch light on so you can find your way down the rabbit hole. For more information, please visit her website at http://riverfairchild.blogspot.com.

Gwen Gardner is a native Californian living in sunny San Diego, where her love of reading and writing led to a BA in English literature. Life is now complete with her husband, two dogs and a daily call from her daughter. Since ghosts feature prominently in her young adult Indigo Eady Paranormal “Cozy” Mystery series, she has a secret desire to meet one face to face—but will run screaming for the hills if she ever does. Gwen adores travel and experiencing the cultures and foods of different countries. She is always up for an adventure and anything involving chocolate—not necessarily in that order. For more information, please visit her website at http://gwengardner.blogspot.com.

Misha Gerrick lives in the scenic Western Cape, South Africa, where she's currently working on some more books. Her Epic Fantasy Series, The War of Six Crowns, is out now. For more information on what she's writing and reading, visit her website at http://mishagerrick.tumblr.com.

Graeme Ing engineers original fantasy worlds, both YA and adult, but hang around, and you’ll likely read tales of romance, sci-fi, paranormal, cyberpunk, steampunk or any blend of the above. Born in England in 1965, Graeme moved to San Diego, California in 1996 and lives there still. His career as a software engineer and development manager spans thirty years, mostly in the computer games industry. He is also an armchair mountaineer, astronomer, mapmaker, pilot and general geek. He and his wife, Tamara, share their house with more cats than he can count. Please visit his website at http://www.graemeing.com.

Fantasy, science fiction, and the weird beckon to M. Pax, and she blames Oregon, a source of endless inspiration. She docents at Pine Mountain Observatory in the summers, and one of her cats has a crush on Mr. Spock. You can find out more by visiting her website http://www.mpaxauthor.com.

Christine Rains is a writer, blogger, and geek mom. She has four degrees which help nothing with motherhood but make her a great Jeopardy player. She has one novel and several novellas and short stories published. Her paranormal romance series, The 13th Floor, has been met with rave reviews. Her newest geeky romances were released by Ellora’s Cave early 2015. Please visit her website at http://christinerains.net.

Cherie Reich has more books than she can ever read and more ideas than she can ever write, but that doesn’t stop this bookworm from trying, even if it means trying to curb her TV addiction. She is a speculative fiction writer and library assistant living in Virginia. Her short stories have appeared in magazines and anthologies, and her books include the paranormal horror collection Once upon a Nightmare and the fantasy series The Foxwick Chronicles and The Fate Challenges. Reborn is her debut novel. She is a member of the Virginia Writers Club, Valley Writers, and Untethered Realms. For more information, please visit her website at http://smarturl.it/CReichWebsite.

Catherine Stine’s fiction spans the range from contemporary to dark fantasy to sci-fi. Her futuristic companion thrillers Fireseed One and Ruby’s Fire are Amazon bestsellers and indie award-winners. Dorianna, her YA paranormal won Best Horror Novel in the Kindle Hub Awards. Her work is included in the boxed sets Future Tense and Secret Worlds as well as in the Untethered Realms anthologies Twisted Earths, Mayhem in the Air and Fantasy Uprising. In addition, Catherine writes new adult fiction as Kitsy Clare. She suspects her love of dark fantasy came from her father reading Edgar Allen Poe to her when she was a child. She teaches creative writing workshops and is a member of SFWA, RWA and SCBWI. Visit her at http://www.catherinestine.com.

Untethered Realms Website: http://untetheredrealms.blogspot.com.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tangled Web by Angela Whisenhant - Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Angela will be awarding a $5 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

One bad decision can change your life forever. Alyson Carter has always put her family first, so the small town of Sage Grove is shocked to learn she’s abandoned them for a man she met online. Seeking a more exciting life, she moves to his horse ranch in Colorado.

Attempting to adjust to life without her, her husband, Kurt, accepts an opportunity to train with the FBI, reluctantly allowing their daughter, Lacy, to move in with a family friend. When the friend is kidnapped, it’s discovered Lacy was the intended target. Pursued by unknown assailants who will stop at nothing to catch her, Lacy finds herself scared and alone. She turns to her mother for protection, unaware that her mother’s secluded mountain sanctuary has become a prison. Alyson discovers she’s merely a pawn in the deadly game of a man she thought she knew. Secrets and lies draw her family onto a collision course with cold-blooded killers.

Her ill-fated decision has placed them all in danger, and she is forced to confront her enemy head-on to protect herself and her daughter. Now she must depend on a God she turned her back on and the husband she left behind to save them both.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Lacy heard the glass grind under her feet as she made her way through the kitchen, stepping over broken dishes and around the dining chairs. Her phone lit the way to the garage. Her bag was leaned up against the wall. She grabbed it and sprinted toward the door. A blood-curdling scream coming from her bedroom pierced the silence. She unzipped the bag and grabbed a bat. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was planning to do, but she wasn’t walking into that room unarmed, and there was no way she was leaving without Kara. Gripping the bat, she crept down the hall. Deep voices coming from her room, and the sound of furniture being shoved around stopped her in her tracks. She heard a shuffling of feet, and lifted the bat over her head. Before she could react she saw three figures emerging from her room. Squinting through the darkness, she made out the shape of a rifle in the first one’s hand. The second one had something thrown over his shoulder, and as he got closer, she could tell it was Kara. She couldn’t take this on with just her bat, but she had to save Kara. Focus, Lacy! Inhaling deeply, she slowed her pounding heart. They walked into the living room so silently that she knew they weren’t your average drugheads looking for money. Where were they taking Kara, and why? What would help Kara most? Lacy thought of attacking them, but three to one were not good odds. Maybe she could distract them and try to get them to follow her? There was no time; they were taking her out the door. She tiptoed across the floor, and peered outside just in time to see them disappear around the side of the house. A loud creaking noise escaped from under her foot and she froze mid-step. She held her breath and waited. An engine started up, and a black SUV backed from the side of the house. She had to do something, or they were going to take Kara. Her dad would never let this happen without a fight, so neither would she. Bat above her head, she launched herself off the porch.

The bat slammed into the front windshield without making a crack. Her eyes locked with the burly guy on the passenger side. He went for his door, so Lacy took off running into the dark night.

About the Author:Angela has been a passionate reader her whole life and that love of reading developed into a love of writing. She is excitedly awaiting the publication of her first novel, Tangled Web. She wants to tell the stories of real people who make real mistakes and, yet find real redemption. People who are leading normal lives and suddenly find themselves thrust into extraordinary circumstances. Sometimes they make good decisions and sometimes bad decisions. But either way they must live with the consequences.

Much of her inspiration comes from her life in a small town and her love of all things suspense. Her perfect storm is when the two collide. Crime in a small town impacts everyone because of the close ties.

Angela lives in Texas with the three loves of her life; her husband Leslie and sons, Kyle and Chase. Other than writing, she loves coffee, 80’s music, hiking in Colorado and HGTV. She aspires to live a joyful life, always chase her dreams and never settle for mediocrity.

Website: http://www.angelawhisenhant.wordpress.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AngelaWhisenhantAuthor
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/angela_whiz

Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sweet Tea by Wendy Lynn Decker - Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Wendy will be awarding a $5 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The fourth anniversary of Olivia’s daddy and John Lennon’s death is approaching. Like the shot heard ’round the world, TV and radio stations keep the frenzy alive and recognize Lennon’s life, while Olivia’s mama remembers Daddy’s death. Instead of healing, Mama’s strange behavior keeps getting worse.

After viewing an afternoon talk show, Olivia discovers her mother might have more than a case of eccentricity – she may be mentally ill. When those fears are confirmed, Olivia is faced with more decisions than any sixteen-year-old should have to make. With no adult family members to turn to, she is forced to trust the only people who’ve offered help: one strange man and a friend her mother makes at the mental institution.

Facing the intricacies of her mother’s illness one minute and the decision to have sex with her new boyfriend the next, Olivia finds that through faith and determination, she can conquer it all in this poignant story of love, intuition, compassion, and hope.

Enjoy an excerpt:

The emergency room at Henry Medical Center smelled like cigarette smoke and urine washed over with antiseptic. I’d never been there before, and I didn’t expect to see so many people that resembled those with the symptoms the doctor on the talk show spoke about. Although most needed physical care, many seemed to need mental health care, and this wasn’t a mental hospital.

Some of the people roamed about like zombies in B-movies. Their vacant stares said, “I’m still here, please come find me.” Many of the patients were pacing, as if they were taking part in some kind of ritual. Some shouted words at random. One woman seemed to be speaking in a language only she could understand. I was afraid to make eye contact with anyone, for fear someone would approach me. But I knew I had to look around the room.

An old woman with only one-half of her head braided asked me for a cigarette. One already hung from her twisted lips. It felt like we had wandered into a secret society meeting, and we had better find Mama and get out while we could.

I overheard one of the nurses say to another, “It must be a full moon tonight.”

“My goodness,” the other nurse responded. “I haven’t seen it like this in quite some time. That strong lunar force is drawing them out like vampires to a blood bank.”

CeCe and I approached the desk. “Excuse me, ma’am,” CeCe said to the desk clerk. “The police told us a woman that fits our mother’s description has been brought here.”

“What’s her name?”

“Cassandra Travis,” I answered, surprised at how faint my voice sounded.

She thumbed through her roster. “The police brought in a Jane Doe. We’ve been asking her name, but she won’t tell us.” The clerk motioned toward a nurse. “They’re here to see Jane Doe in room twelve.”

The nurse nodded and said, “Follow me.”

I thought of Luke and was glad we’d left him at home.

CeCe and I followed the nurse down a long corridor. Blue curtains covered doorways on each side. We approached the last room on the left, and the nurse pulled a chart from a hook on the wall. She opened the curtain. “This is Jane Doe.”

About the Author:Wendy Lynn Decker has lived in thirteen different towns in the state of New Jersey. Now, she lives a bike ride away from the ocean and her favorite restaurant. She is the author of the middle-grade chapter book, THE BEDAZZLING BOWL, which is the first book intended for a series.

Website: http://www.wendylynndeckerauthor.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/wendydecker19
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/pub/wendy-lynn-decker/46/166/3a2

Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Turing Evolved by David Kitson - Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. David will be awarding an eCopy of Turing Evolved to 3 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

When Ex-DEMON pilot Jon Carlson meets beautiful humanitarian Rachel, it's a match made in HEAVEN. Literally, because Rachel's an ANGEL. She's also an AI controlled android of immense power and capability. As Jon finds himself drawn into the world of these enigmatic creations of mankind, he unknowingly becomes involved in a program to create autonomous superweapons intended to fight the next war.

Enjoy an excerpt:

I was certain that everyone on the base hated me. I’m surprised they tolerated me long enough to deliver me somewhere else. The pilot made his feelings clear when he ignored me during the pre-flight as though I wasn’t sitting in the cargo area.

Persona non grata. Isn’t that what they call it?

Their feelings towards me extended far beyond the razor-wire and chain-link fence that separated the base from the town. My actions had brought scrutiny to the district, affecting many of the locals who worked there, too.

As I left the hangar to walk out to the transport, I turned to take one last look at the quarters. A pickup truck was parked just outside the base. Three civilians sat in the back while one leaned against the side with a bat sitting next to him. It didn’t amount to much of a threat, but it explained why the base commander didn’t want me making my own way out of here. I guess he figured I’d caused enough trouble already.

I thought the airfield would have been as deserted as the hangar, but as I rounded the corner it was hard to miss the row of demons. The entire mobile-armour squadron, bar one, lined up in formation along the path to the transport. It might have been a show of strength, demonstrating I had no power to stop them. It might have been some form of ritualised acceptance of my leaving, recognising the choice I had made to go quietly.

Except that they mostly had their backs to me. That was where the true message lay.

Only one stood out of formation, standing at the end of the line like a steel sentinel, facing me as I approached. It watched as I made that final walk to the Fatpan transport. It was cleaner than I remember. Unit 372. It used to be mine. Then it, too, turned its back on me as I walked past, just to make sure I knew exactly how they all felt. The pilot who replaced me had taken everything. My demon, my career, even Susan. It was as though replacing me wasn’t enough — they wanted to erase me altogether from their memory.

There were no lights turned on in the cargo area of the Fatpan. All the crew positions in the forward cabin were filled. They had left the transport controller seat down, so I knew where I was expected to ride.

So there I sat in the darkness of the cargo hold for three hours, struggling to breathe. These transports don’t usually fly too high, but the lack of oxygen told me they had managed to climb much higher than they should have. The hold wasn’t pressurised and there were no oxygen masks or feed lines here.

It wasn’t enough to kill me or make me lose consciousness yet, but it was enough to make this last trip very uncomfortable. The bitter cold of altitude had no difficulty finding ways through my uniform. It had never been designed to keep such low temperatures out, and my skin was numb at its presence. The lack of air I could tolerate. I was trained to withstand uncomfortable positions for extended periods, but the coldness seemed to drag this final trip out and reflected the loneliness I felt.

I pulled my jacket closer around me and tried to find some comfort through meditation, but only the words that ended my career echoed through its silence.

‘Jonathan Carlson, it is the finding of this tribunal that you acted lawfully. However, your obvious contempt for the chain of command cannot be ignored.’

I tried to stifle the anger that surfaced as I thought about what they had said, but it kept me from focusing on what I needed to do. I still believe I wasn’t the one in the wrong. They tried me in a court martial and found nothing to convict me of, but not for lack of trying. Demoted to lieutenant and asked to leave. There’s no justice in that. But after what had happened, I was glad to be leaving. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

Closing my eyes, I concentrated on breathing. I intended to survive this and rebuild my life somewhere else. I’d done what I had to and I could live with that, but for now I was tired — more tired than I ever recall being. I just wanted to sleep and let the past slip away into the darkness.

About the Author: David Kitson has worked in corporate and government environments as a security analyst and technical network architect, as well as a print and TV journalist focusing on video games and technology news. His love of science stems back to a childhood spent climbing trees and building rocket launchers. He lives in Western Australia with his wife and four children.

Website

Buy the book at Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Broken Prophecy by KJ Taylor - Guest Post and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. KJ will be awarding an eCopy of Broken Prophecy to 3 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Five Fun Facts about K.J.Taylor

1. I have an irrational fear of fish. Well, okay – not really. But for some reason I find fish creepy and sometimes have unpleasant dreams involving fish monsters. Needless to say this means that when I go to the markets I always stop by the fish shop and take a long, slow, morbidly fascinated look. I’ve made a mental note to put some sort of fish-based monster in a future book. I wouldn’t have to use that much imagination – a quick glance at some photographs of angler fish and Goblin sharks would probably do it. I like to play up my “fish phobia” in interviews and so on, purely because I think it’s funny.

2. Despite being bothered by fish, I’m not the slightest bit afraid of spiders – poisonous ones included. I do keep a respectable distance from venomous snakes, but that’s because I’m not a moron. Well, and I’m Australian. Not being afraid of deadly snakes is a non-survival trait in this part of the world.

3. Like most normal, well-adjusted people, I have a collection of weapons. Two daggers, a pair of sickles, a spear, a long sword, and a shield. And a couple of whacking sticks. I have no clue how to use any of them, but they look cool hanging on the wall. I bought the sword to celebrate getting my first US publishing contract.

4. This one will sound particularly unbelievable, but I have my very own Mark of Destiny: a silver crescent on one of my fingers. And what is the logo of the first big publishing company to take me on? A crescent. Apparently the mark is a scar I picked up in childhood, but I have no memory of it – it’s just always been there. Fear the great and mighty destiny of the Chosen One!!

5. Despite writing epic fantasy, I don’t particularly like reading it. I’ve read very few of the big names in the genre, and several I’ve taken a look at simply didn’t appeal to me so I stopped reading. I personally don’t think that’s a problem; if you write in a genre you haven’ read a huge amount in you’re less likely to wind up imitating your peers. David Eddings is a minor hero of mine because I heard that he read Lord of the Rings and, like me, didn’t enjoy it. So he decided to prove he could do better! (I thought Pawn of Prophecy was pretty good. LoTR drove me to distraction when I read it at the age of twelve).

A fun adventure that satirises fantasy tropes in the style of Terry Pratchett.

Ambit Afterman is the Chosen One. Born with the mark of the silver bellflower on his palm and given a magical spear, he is the one whose coming the prophecy foretold.

Unfortunately, he would much rather drink beer and get laid - destiny can go fuck itself.

Together with his demon friend Snarl, Ambit sets out on a mighty quest - to make sure the prophecy doesn't come true, and avoid doing anything heroic under any circumstances. Along the way he will make polite conversation with demons, not deliver any great speeches, not train with the wise monks, and weasel his way out of adventure and into the nearest pub. But there may just be time to have cheap sex with the beautiful princess along the way.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Once, long ago, the Land of Flowers was happy.’ The storyteller paused to look meaningfully at his audience. ‘Yes, very happy,’ he added. ‘But then the demons came. One day the sky went dark and the Nine Mountains erupted, with fire and smoke pouring into the sky. The land went dark and lava flowed over the earth, and the demons came crawling out of the ground – thousands of them, with burning eyes and metal teeth. They spread everywhere, killing everyone they found, destroying villages and towns, spoiling everything.’

The storyteller’s voice rose dramatically and his audience, mainly children, listened expectantly. Around them other people were half listening. Adults relaxed in the shade after a long day’s work, and a young woman was singing for tips in the background. She provided a rather nice soundtrack.

‘Today, the Nine Mountains are home to the nine demon lords,’ the storyteller continued, ‘and they send their minions out to oppress anyone living too close to the ruined lands they’ve taken for themselves. One day, perhaps, they will spread through the whole of the land and the human race will be wiped out.’

‘Or maybe they’ll bore themselves to death first,’ a lazy voice put in from somewhere behind the audience.

‘But there is still one thing that can stop the demons and put everything right again,’ said the storyteller, ignoring the interruption.

‘The Chosen One!’ a small girl piped up. Around her, the other children buzzed excitedly.

‘Fifty years ago, when the demons first came, it was said that someone would come with the power to drive them away forever,’ the storyteller nodded. ‘A special warrior, with a special weapon.’

‘Bullshit!’ the heckler from up the back shouted.

The storyteller glared in his direction, and went on doggedly. ‘Some say this destined one hasn’t been born yet. Others believe he is already here, and that one day, any day now, he’ll appear to begin the fulfilment of his great destiny. For all we know, he could be here today. He could be one of you, and you don’t even know it yet.’ He smiled at the fascinated children.

‘I wouldn’t count on it, kids,’ the heckler threw in.

‘When will the Chosen One come?’ a boy asked.

‘Nobody knows,’ said the storyteller. ‘That’s all I know. But maybe, one day . . .’

‘Maybe one day people will stop wasting time on fairy tales,’ said the heckler.

‘Will you shut up?’ the storyteller finally snapped.

The young man lounging on a rock by the wall of the town tavern only grinned at him, and when the other adults nearby muttered ominously, he grinned at them too. The singing girl took the opportunity to sing a little more loudly, and was rewarded with a faint rattle of demon eyes thrown into the bowl at her feet.

Seemingly realising he wasn’t going to win this particular confrontation, the storyteller pushed his red-striped hair away from his face and turned his attention back to his listeners. ‘If you want to know more about the Chosen One, the monks in the valley are the people to ask,’ he said. ‘They know the prophecy, and they can recognise the Chosen One. Many people go to them asking if they’re the one, but all of them have gone away disappointed.’

‘I want to go and see them!’ a small boy said immediately. ‘I want them to teach me how to fight demons!’

‘That’s definitely something you can find there,’ said the storyteller. ‘The monks are always happy to take on new apprentices.’

The boy glanced proudly at his friends, golden eyes shining with excitement.

‘Oh goody, let’s all go and get ourselves killed,’ the heckler muttered. ‘Why is everyone letting this old goat tell their kids what a great idea it is to go and fight demons?’

‘And I suppose a coward like you would tell them they shouldn’t?’ the storyteller threw at him.

‘I’d tell them to make up their own minds, is what I’d do,’ said the heckler, idly rolling the shaft of a spear over his palm. ‘That’d be why you’re the popular one, right?’

‘Well, I’m not too scared to go and see the monks,’ the golden-eyed boy told him.

‘That’s because you’re a stupid kid,’ said the heckler. He winked at the singer, who had stopped singing and was now eyeing him with interest. ‘Hey, sweetie, want to see my spear?’

‘Who are you, anyway?’ someone else asked. ‘I’ve never seen you around here before.’

The heckler shrugged. ‘I’m just passing through.’

‘Going anywhere in particular?’ the man asked.

‘Trying to work out where I’m going at the moment,’ said the heckler, resting one long leg on the other and stifling a yawn. He leaned his spear, which was a shabby thing with its shaft bound with leather, against the wall beside him.

‘One of the Dispossessed, are you?’ said the storyteller.

‘Stop doing that,’ the stranger growled.

‘Doing what?’

‘Giving everything names,’ said the stranger. ‘It’s obnoxious. I’m not a Dispo-whatever; I’m a traveller. Labels are unnecessary. And right now I’m way too sober, so fare-thee-well, grandpa.’ He stood up, heaving a heavy pack onto his shoulder, and sauntered off into the tavern, snatching the spear along the way. The singer glanced around and followed him.

About the Author:

K.J. Taylor was born in Australia in 1986 and attended Radford College and the University of Canberra, where she returned to obtain a Master of Information Studies in 2012. She currently works as an archivist.

She published her first work, The Land of Bad Fantasy, through Scholastic when she was just 18, and HarperVoyager went on to publish The Dark Griffin in Australia and New Zealand five years later. The Griffin's Flight and The Griffin's War followed in the same year, and were released in America and Canada in 2011. The Shadow's Heir, The Shadowed Throne and The Shadow's Heart have now joined them in both Australia and the US.

Website: http://kjtaylor.com/

Buy the book at Amazon.
a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod by Tracy Ellen - Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Tracy will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Boxed Set: The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod Series: Special Holiday Collection

Meet Anabel Axelrod, a smart, sassy, and sexy small town bookstore owner. She’s also a control enthusiast with quirky ideas, decided convictions, and firm rules for the men who want to date her. When Anabel meets Luke Drake, she is appallingly fascinated to be attracted to the mysterious alpha male like no man before in her extensive dating career. Anabel is right to be wary because Luke does not play by any rules. What do you get when you mix together a witty, confident woman who is a magnet for trouble, a dangerously seductive man with a secret agenda who is not too tall, not too handsome, and definitely dark, fun loving friends with their own set of problems, and a few crazy relatives? The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod! An ongoing series that is part steamy romance, part suspenseful mystery, and always laugh-out-loud fun!

This eBook boxed set of The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod (Volumes I-V Special Holiday Collection) is available for purchase November/December 2015 only and contains the full-length books: A Date with Fate, Courted by Karma, In Love by Design, Adieu to Destiny, and Family & Fortune.

Enjoy an excerpt:

“Look, Luke, if I break my rule about being picked up can you promise not to dismember me on our first date or worse yet, bore me?”

Pushing the door open, Luke casually shrugged a shoulder. “Anabel, I never make promises I can’t keep. You may prove irritating.”

I blinked in disbelief. By the time I recovered to retort, I was talking to the screen door. Stunned, I realized Luke really had left. After a moment of taking this in, I started laughing in rare enjoyment. Our first date could prove very interesting indeed.

About the Author:Tracy Ellen is happily married and lives with her family in the suburbs of St Paul, Minnesota. She loves writing and living dangerously through the lives of her characters. Tracy’s a firm believer that smart + confident = sexy as hell. But she hopes that’s the only formula you’ll ever find in her unique, steamy, witty, suspenseful, and sometimes incredibly funny romances featuring sassy, independent heroines and their seductively alpha heroes.

Website and Newsletter Sign Up: www.tracyellenink.com
Twitter Handle: TracyEllen01
Twitter URL: https://twitter.com/TracyEllen01
Facebook Page URL: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tracy-Ellen/426785400717429
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Tracy-Ellen/e/B009EFU5XY/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1444475905&sr=8-1

Buy the book at Amazon, iBooks, Smashwords, Barnes and Noble.

Buy the boxed set at Amazon, Apple, Smashwords, or Barnes and Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Never Forgotten by Stacey Nash - Q&A and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Stacey will be awarding an eCopy of Never Forgotten to 3 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Stacey has stopped by to answer a few of our questions. Why do you write in your genre? What draws you to it?

I write YA sci-fi romance for the same reason I read it, because I enjoy it. From the very first young adult story I read back in high school, when YA wasn’t even a thing yet, I just haven’t been able to get enough. I love the fast pace, the high tension, and first love. It’s a lot of fun to write and read.

What research is required?

Ahh… the type of sci-fi I write takes a decent understanding of physics. All of the technology in my books is based on real science, so it required extensive research to make sure the tech was actually possible. From there, it was easy to build a world, but in a series like the Collective, consistency is key.

Name one thing you learned from your hero/heroine.

That sometimes the truth is right in front of you just waiting to be discovered. Whether it’s a family secret, the love of someone you never considered, or crazy technology that a secret organization has kept under wraps, you just never know what you’ll find if you open your eyes and pay attention.

Do you have any odd or interesting writing quirks, habits or superstitions?

Not really. But I do need total silence to write. If there’s so much as a cat meowing, a kid chatting, or the TV on in the next room I just can’t concentrate enough to get words on the screen. Perhaps it’s because I’m so easily distracted.

Are you a plotter or pantser?

I started out as a pantser with the first two books in this series, but as it’s progressed it’s just not possible to pants anymore. In Never Forgotten, the story is far more complicated than it was in Forget Me Not and the story needed to be carefully woven together to incorporate information and complex storylines that began in the other books. I do miss pantsing though. As a writer it’s kind of exciting to discover where the story is headed as you write it.

Look to your right – what’s sitting there?

Nothing. :P I’m sitting at my favourite spot at our dining room table, which is right next to a large window. We’re high on a hill, so from the window I can see the roofs of other houses and all the gorgeous and huge old trees in our neighbourhood.

Anything new coming up from you? What?

Yes! The third book in my other series, The Oxley College Saga, (an upper YA contemporary) is due to release later this month. And hopefully … there will be a final Collective book down the track.

Do you have a question for our readers?

I’m always on the lookout for awesome books. What is your favourite recent read?

The race is on! Continuing on from FORGET ME NOT and REMEMBER ME, this is the thrilling third and final novel in Stacey Nash's unforgettable YA series.

Since the strike on Collective territory during Anamae's rescue, things have taken a turn for the worse. Unprovoked attacks on innocent people have Anamae and her friends fighting day and night to minimise the damage. With hundreds of lives lost, morale amongst the resistance fighters has plummeted. But that's the least of her worries.

Manvyke still has Anamae's mom, Annie, secreted away somewhere and after the way they parted, Anamae worries it's not at her mother's bidding. Maybe Annie's disappearance all those years ago wasn't her choice. But with Manvyke scouring the world, there's something far more pressing than the need to find Anamae's mother ...

It's a fight against time to find the other keys before Manvyke. In his hands, the three relics could unlock enough power to reek a much worse havoc than the current issues at hand. If the councillor gets his hands on those keys, civilisation will bow down.

Enjoy an excerpt:

This is my life now.

The same every day. Well, almost every day. Today, it’s Wednesday. Wednesdays and Saturdays are different.

On those days, he comes.

I look from the door to the window and back again. My whole body tense with the anticipation of him and the show I’ll have to put on. The show that I don’t care. That I’m strong. I’m unflinching, when on the inside I’m absolutely not.

The pale walls—a creamy-dirty pink—are a reflection of my constant mood: dull, monotonous. But I have no regrets. I’d do it all again.

Anything to save them.

Click, click, thwack. The round lock at the top of the door flicks open first, followed by each one below. The brass, chrome, and silver knobs rotate quickly and snap to the unlocked position: all from the other side of the door. It’s not possible to unlock them from the inside. I should know; I’ve tried a hundred times over.

I take the two generous steps from my place by the window to the red suede couch and sink into it, lying back with arms roped across my chest, my eyes closed.

The door creaks open.

My heart accelerates, and not in the way it might at seeing a loved one, but in the nervous anticipation of an enemy about to walk into my life.

Like he does twice a week.

Silence hangs in the air for several moments while I breathe slowly—pretending to sleep. I’m not playing his game today.

The smell of fresh donuts mixed with strong coffee enters with him, the delicious aroma assaulting my senses and making my mouth water. It’s a Kenyan blend, which he knows is my favorite. Trying to ignore it is no use, not with the smooth smell growing stronger and stronger until steam dampens my face. The jerk must be waving right it under my nose. Yet I keep my eyes closed, my face masked.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

If my resolve snapping had a sound that would be crack. “More like Rapunzel,” I say, a dig at my captivity.

When I open my eyes, that ridiculous half-a-dumbass smile stretches across his face. He tips his chin toward the corrugated, disposable cup in his hand. CityBoy.

Really? He thinks we can be friends, huh? Just because he brings a coffee from a place I once loved. That was a lifetime ago and we can never go back. Not now, not ever.

“Take it.” He inches the cup closer to me. “I walked halfway across town to get this for you.” He shoves the offering further under my nose. If I opened my mouth and sucked in the air, I’d probably taste the sweetened coffee.

Giving him the satisfaction of taking the cup irks me, but it’s been so long since I drank the smooth, rich nectar that only CityBoy can perfect. Stupid hand has a mind of its own, closing around the warm cup. Now that it’s in my hands, there’s no point missing out. I’ve already let him win, so I may as well get some enjoyment out of my miserable predicament.

“It’s been a long week . . .” He relaxes into the couch, flipping a pair of bronze coins through his fingers. I stop listening. No matter how he treats me, we’re not friends. We haven’t been for years.

We never will be again.

About the Author:

Stacey Nash is a writer, mother, wife, but not always in that order. Stacey went to the University of New England to study history where she fell in love and married her college sweetheart. Now, they live in the gorgeous Hunter Valley, Australia. Stacey has a passion for writing stories set in speculative worlds, from science fiction to fantasy and anything in between. She also loves to blog is a co-founder and a contributor at Aussie Owned and Read, a blog designed for readers and writers of young adult and new adult fiction, as well as World of YA, a blog designed for lovers of young adult fiction.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/staceynash
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/StaceyLeeNash
Website: http://www.stacey-nash.com/

Buy the book at Amazon

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Up and In by Deborah Disney- Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Deborah will be awarding an eCopy of Up and In to 3 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Five Things You Might Not Know About Deborah Disney

Five things you would probably never guess about me? I’d love to turn that around and see if there are five things you can guess about me! I’m quite the fan of guessing games. Is that number one? Okay, let’s not count that.

One. A superficial one. My hair is really curly. Like really curly. As yet another example of how we always seem to want what we don’t have, I have been straightening my hair for years. My introduction to the GHD hair straightener was life-changing!

Two. I am very interested in politics. Australia seems to be going through a bit of a bizarre period, politically, and I have had a lot of trouble aligning myself with anyone on either side. I am a big fan of our new Prime Minister though, and for the first time in a long time, I have felt really hopeful about what might be achieved while he’s in charge.

Three. I believe in reincarnation, but I have also started to wonder if there might be something more scientific and less spiritual to it. I have wondered if some past life recollections may be the result of memory transfer through DNA. It’s hard to reconcile that theory though with reports by people of past life recollections coming from a culture that their ancestors have never been a part of. The whole idea of reincarnation really intrigues me.

Four. Now I’ve brushed on religion and politics, back to the superficial. I am hopeless at outfit planning. I never do it, and then when I am about to go out, I am standing there wondering what the hell I am going to wear. Time and time again. I never learn.

Five. I have absolutely no comprehension of why people like flirting with death. Jumping out of planes, bungy jumping, white-water rafting, skiing fast down tree-lined cliff-faces – I just do not get it! Snuggled up in front of a fire with a good book and a glass of wine – now that sounds like the way to spend your earthly hours!

Thanks for hosting me today :-)

Distinctly middle-class parents, Maria and Joe have committed every bit of available income to giving their daughters Kate and Sarah the best education possible, which to them means attending the most exclusive girls school in the state. But when Kate befriends the spoilt and moody Mirabella, Maria finds herself thrust into a high society of champagne-swilling mother-istas she hasn't budgeted for. Saturday morning netball is no longer a fun mother-daughter outing, but a minefield of social politics.

While the increasingly neurotic Maria struggles to negotiate the school mum hierarchy, Joe quietly battles a midlife crisis and Kate attempts to grow up as gracefully as possible (without having her life ruined by embarrassing parents).

For every woman who has ever felt she may be wearing the wrong shoes, this is a book that will remind you - you're not alone.

Fans of Liane Moriarty and Fiona Higgins are sure to enjoy this debut offering from new Australian author, Deborah Disney.

Enjoy an excerpt:

There it was again. That damned full stop. How does so much passive aggression fit itself into such a tiny punctuation mark?

Fine with me.

‘Fine with me, full stop.’

‘Fine with me full stop, no x.’

‘Fine with me full stop no x, no way am I ever going to let you think you are in any way deserving of the lathered-up, flattery-filled, signed-off-with-a-kiss kind of email I always send to everyone else on this email list.’

And there you have it. That is what she was able to say to me with one little full stop.

Of course, if any of the obsessively-stroking-and-simultaneously-self-aggrandising netball mums on this email list ever decided just to hit ‘Reply’ instead of ‘Reply all’ to the coach’s weekly email, I probably wouldn’t know that this little full stop means that I am absolutely, categorically, no longer in the fold. Unfortunately, because I am still on the email list, every week my inbox fills with messages ending with ‘x’ – not emails addressed specifically to me, just a plethora of inappropriately ‘Reply all’ emails sent to every woman with a daughter in the Red Rockets Under 10 Division 1 netball team. Every ‘x-ending’ email I have read over this netball season has served to reinforce the knowledge that if I were the object of Bea’s contrived affections her response to my offer to organise a group gift for our daughters’ netball coach would instead have gone more like this:

(Reply all)

Oh Maria, you are always so thoughtful. Of course I had been planning to find Linney the perfect gift – she has done such a stellar job with the girls this season! Sadly, I am just run off my feet this week. With putting the finishing touches on the gala, and having the nanny taking time off for her final exams, I just haven’t had a chance to even think! You are a life saver! Truly. I can’t wait to see what you choose – you have such impeccable taste! By the way, where did you get those absolutely to-die-for wellies you were wearing last week? I absolutely covet them. I just have to have some. Anyway, I must press on, I have a hundred emails to get through. I see another one just popped up from the Governor’s Office. Did I mention that the Governor and his wife will be joining us at the gala? I have known him forever, of course. Just adored his Christmas card last year! Remind me to tell you about it. Thanks again for organising the gift. You are an absolute gem! Bea x

I guess, in a way, ‘Fine with me full stop’ is in fact a lot easier than the alternative. Back when I actually gave a damn what Bea thought of me, the alternative would have filled me with insecurity. What kind of ‘perfect’ gift would she have chosen for Linney? Did she really like my wellies? Would she ever choose them over her Louboutin ballet flats to go to an Under 10’s netball game – even when the grounds were covered in mud like when I wore mine the previous week – or did she really just plan to sit them on the porch by way of decor at her thousand-acre ‘hobby’ farm up the coast? How would I confess that I actually bought them at Kmart? And shit, shit, shit, the Governor is coming to the gala? It was bad enough that I had to hide from Joe that it was costing us $500 a head just to be at the gala, but now I would have to somehow convince him to pay a grand for a decent new dinner suit as well?

I have to wonder, though, if it was really such a relief to open up her fine-with-me-full-stop email, instead of receiving one of the phoney rambling prop-ups she sends to all the other netball mums – the ‘lower-case beas’ – then why did it feel like I had just had my face slapped?

Admittedly, I cared a hell of a lot less than I once would have. Before I realised that my name had been wiped off the Bea-list, ‘Fine with me full stop’ would have spiralled me into days of tortured analysis. What did I say that I shouldn’t have? Is she upset that I invited Lauren’s daughter for a play with Kate instead of asking Mirabella? What is it? What did I do? Did she wave to me in traffic and I missed it? Did Kate do something to upset Mirabella? Is it because Kate got a better score than Mirabella at the eisteddfod?

After being off the Bea-list for almost six months now, though, I have started training myself to see things differently. When I think about what got me wiped off the Bea-list in the first place, my reaction to her flagrant snubbery is now more a mixture of amusement and incredulity, rather than feeling any sense of self-recrimination.

About the Author: Australian author, Deborah Disney, grew up in the regional city of Toowoomba and now lives in Brisbane with her husband and two school-aged daughters. Deborah has a BA/LLB from the University of Queensland and practised as a solicitor for a number of years prior to having children. She chose to specialise in litigation law as that seemed like the best preparation for what is now her looming battle – mothering her daughters through the teenage years. Deborah's first novel, Up and In, is a satirical look at the interactions of school and sporting mums.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/deborahdisneyau
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Deborah-Disney-Author/732526246801668
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8511300.Deborah_Disney

Buy the book at Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Exclusive Excerpt from True Deceptions by Veronica Forand

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Veronica will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

After his partner was murdered, Simon Dunn was done with MI6. But the cold, violent world of British intelligence never lets anyone go free. Now Simon has been blackmailed into a new job...with a beautiful new partner who's going to get them both killed.

Robotics expert Cassie Watson is a newbie field agent with as much sophistication as...well, a pacifist, vegan computer nerd. Now she's abruptly thrust into the cutthroat world of espionage with a partner who is as cold as he is brutally-and brutishly-handsome.

But when their mission is betrayed from the inside, Cassie will be forced to place her life in the hands of the one man who's anything but trustworthy...

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt:

Simon made his way toward his bedroom with only a towel covering his bottom half. Cassie blocked his way. She’d changed into tight jeans and a low cut blouse. Sweet and sexy.


“Can I talk to you?” The hesitation in her voice didn’t bode well for the conversation.

“Now?”

She nodded and sucked in her bottom lip. He’d give up everything to spend one night with free access to those lips. She must have noticed his focus on her mouth, because her hand touched her lip in an attempt to remove a nonexistent crumb from the corner.

“I’m embarrassed to say I doubted your ability. But you not only succeeded, you also brought Alex back unharmed.” Cassie inched closer to him as though she’d abandoned veganism and was starved for a steak.

Was his pretty California girl coming on to him?

“So you’ll trust me from now on?” he asked, maintaining his position in front of her.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Cassie, you always have a choice. Be decisive. React. Don’t second-guess every move you make. If you want something, take it.” He bated his breath to see what she would do.

Stepping forward, she placed a hand on his chest. He brushed his fingers across her cheek and felt her lean into him. The tilt of her head against his palm short-circuited his normal control.

“What if I want you?” she whispered.
He should refuse her. She was his subordinate, and sex could screw up their already delicate relationship. Or it could strengthen it. Maybe give her more confidence. And then what? When the assignment terminated, they’d each go their respective ways with fond memories. Perhaps.

“Like I said. If you want something, take it.”

About the Author:

Veronica Forand is an attorney and an award-winning writer of romantic suspense. She's lived in Boston, London, Paris, Geneva, and Washington, DC and currently resides near Philadelphia. An avid traveler, she loves to roam across continents with her husband and kids in pursuit of skiing, scuba diving, and finding the perfect piece of chocolate.

Facebook | Twitter | Website | Amazon Author Page | Entangled Publishing Author Page

Buy the book at Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, or Kobo.

a Rafflecopter giveaway