Book Freebie: The Dark Dreamer and $50 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway

The Dark Dreamer is free this week! Pick up your copy from Amazon and then enter the giveaway I posted below. Winners will receive a $50 Amazon gift card and signed copies of all my Second Sight series of books. The Dark Dreamer is the first in a two-part series with the conclusion coming as soon as humanly possible.

Summary:

For as long as she can remember, Rebekah Clayton’s life has been dictated by her dreams. As a dream interpreter, she has become privy to her clients’ deepest and darkest secrets. Affairs, financial ruin, even murder—nothing shocks her anymore. But Grant Raskin’s dreams are unlike any she has heard before.

If Rebekah’s interpretation is right, Grant has foreseen the end of the world. A plague is coming and everyone Rebekah cares about will succumb to the illness. And Grant can trace the origin of the disease back to two men: Dr. Mark Holman and his son Drew.

Grant enlists Rebekah to track down the Holmans and determine their connection to the viral outbreak. But uncovering Drew Holman’s secrets will lead her down a dangerous path—unearthing a deadly conspiracy she never could have predicted.

https://www.amazon.com/Dark-Dreamer-Heather-Topham-Wood-ebook/dp/B00W1R6GYO

Excerpt:

I was in the middle of a cyclone, in the dead center of the eye of the deadliest storm I'd ever witnessed. The world was a blur as the wind picked up pieces of the earth and flung them in the air around me.

I felt claustrophobic as the tunnel of wind closed in around me, tightening the eye and whipping chunks of earth ever-closer to my face. I couldn’t see out and I imagined no one could see in. The storm trapped me and I doubted it would ever let me go.

“Ezekiel.” The name was a whisper—a soft breath into my ear, but loud enough to make out clearly despite the raging storm.

My body swung to the sound and I stood before a powerfully built man. I took him in in one full look—dark eyes, dark hair and dark stubble surrounding his full lips. He towered over me, hunching down to reach my ears and whisper his secrets. He was the younger man from Grant’s illustration brought to life.

“Is that your name?” The storm faded in importance. The earth trembled below our feet, but my full focus stayed on the man next to me.

He laughed. “No, but Ezekiel has my secrets.”

“The prophet from the Bible? The one who had to teach the world a lesson because of false shepherds?”

He didn’t answer, but instead took a step closer to me. I stared farther up at him and found myself caught in his intense gaze. His eyes were full of too many emotions I recognized from my own life: drowning pain coupled with a desperation to be understood.

Would the root of his evil be borne from his need for understanding? Did I empathize with a man who possibly viewed annihilation as a freedom from unbearable pain?

His fingertips grazed over my lips in a leisurely way. Exploring the dip, circling over the creases. He leaned down and I found myself trapped in place. I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t move. I only could wait for him to kiss me.

Instead, he pressed his forehead against mine and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. I let go of the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in. He inhaled shakily, taking in the breath I released.

The familiar way he held me wasn’t alarming. I felt like I belonged there, as if he and I was one and the same. I didn’t feel fear or revulsion, only the strangest sensation of two magnets being pulled together by forces unseen.

I’d been so enthralled in the moment, captivated by his nearness, I didn’t notice the way his shirt had begun to change color. The burgundy color deepened and the fabric clung to his chest. My hands reached out and touched the spot over his heart. Pulling back, my fingers were dripping with fresh blood.

He looked down at his chest and frowned as if the stream of blood were merely an inconvenience. “It’s happening,” he murmured. Without warning, he began to claw at his chest. Ripping through the blood-drenched cotton, digging his nails into the flesh.

I scrambled away from him—screaming in horror as he ripped himself open. He didn’t flinch as his flesh fell in clumps to the dirt floor in front of him. He just kept at the self-mutilation—tossing aside muscle and tendons as if he were a corpse who felt nothing.

His hand disappeared inside his chest cavity and I wrenched my head away. I dry-heaved and fell onto my hands and knees. The storm intensified once again as if its destruction were somehow equal to the obliteration I just witnessed. I wished for the moment to end, for the storm to finally come and tear me to pieces so I no longer had to stay trapped with the nameless man.

A thud in front of me forced my head up again. A silent gasp escaped my lips as I gaped at the bloody object the man had thrown before me. I tried to process what I was seeing, but my brain couldn’t seem to keep up with what was happening around me. After my shock wore off, I realized beneath the blood and gore wasn’t a heart constructed from human flesh. Beneath the surface stained with crimson slashes was a heart made out of stone.

“You can have this now.” His voice, deep and rich, drew my sight away from the horror and back to his beautiful, unblemished face. Despite his chest being dissected by his own hand, he still was standing and seemingly unaffected. “I won’t be needing it anymore.”

“Who are you?” I asked again, but this time with more urgency. He shook his head in reply and I pounded the ground in frustration. I had to know him. I had to find a man who could display so much raw emotion, but hid a heart of stone. Although the vision receded and I could feel him slipping away, I still refused to accept he would be a mystery I’d never solve.

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Book Spotlight and Giveaway: Twisted by Lola Smirnova

Lola Smirnova is an author from Ukraine, who for many years worked in the sex industry. She recently released her debut novel Twisted. Twisted is a work of fiction, but it is inspired by the author’s real life experiences making a living in the sex trade. 

Synopsis:

In the corrupt economy of post-Soviet Ukraine opportunities are scarce. Young and eager sisters – Natalia, Lena and Julia – harbor dreams of a better life. Naïve and tempted by the allure of ‘quick’ money, the girls set off on an adventure that changes their lives forever.

Can they stay out of trouble enough to fulfill their ambitions? Can they hold on to their idealism in a world where depravity and danger are constant companions? How far are they willing to go to make a buck?

Twisted is a disturbing behind-the-scenes look at a world that most will never see. It is shocking, raw, and explicit.

“Twisted tells the story of a young Ukrainian girl named Julia, whose family is struck with poverty after the fall of the Soviet Union. Her two older sisters leave home and become sex workers, glossing over the more distasteful aspects of their occupation, planting the seeds of both curiosity and greed in young Julia.  She eventually finds the lure of easy money too beguiling and begins her journey into the darker aspects of drug abuse, drunken stupors, and the horrid and loveless life of a sex-for-sale prostitute... Twisted is an amazing book that is well written and provocative. This book is a worthwhile read.” - Michael Alexander’s BDSM Review

“The characters are real, dialog intoxicating, and the plot well crafted.” – Reviewed by Gary Stout at Readers’ Favorite

Twisted is available for sale on Amazon in ebook and paperback. 

Lola Smirnova is currently working on her second novel Crave – a sequel to Twisted. To learn more, go to http://lolasmirnova.com/.

Connect with Lola on:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/BookTwisted

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/twistedlolasmirnova

Excerpt:

‘Sag es!’ he screams at me.

The heavy motorcycle helmet is so tightly strapped to my head that I can hear the blood rushing through my ears. The smell of stale sweat reeks from the worn padding inside it. I struggle to swallow. A drop of spit runs down the ball gag that has been shoved into my mouth, then down my chin, and drips onto the couch beneath my knees. My shoulders are screaming from the pull of the handcuffs, which force my hands together behind my back.

He stands in the middle of the small and gloomy room and I can see the outline of his large body. Two bloodshot eyes are firmly fixed on my exposed nipples. A fleshy tongue slides backwards and forwards through the gap in his teeth. He licks the sweat off his lips, moans, and starts rubbing his groin, rocking his wide hips back and forth. He increases the pace, while his moans get louder and louder. Next, he stops abruptly, moving his eyes from my chest to my face, scowls, and takes a few menacing steps towards me. I shrink instinctively, tensing my body …

‘I know him. Don’t be scared Jul. He’s a bit strange, but a harmless motherfucker.’ That is what my sister, Natalia, managed to whisper in my ear half an hour ago, before I followed this freak, with the brain bucket in his hand, upstairs.

Natalia and I were sitting at the bar counter when he walked in. He didn’t even have a drink; just stepped in the door, looked around, stopped his stare at me, and mumbled, ‘I want you. Let’s go.’

‘It’s time to work!’ teased Natalia. Her naughty look followed us all the way up the stairs.

‘Sag es!’ the crack-head screams again, which I think means ‘say it’ in Luxembourgish or German.

He grunts, and with a wild thrust shoves his hips right into my face. He doesn’t even bother to take his jeans off. A quick unzip and he pulls out a flaccid penis, puts one foot up on the couch and starts violently pumping it, so close that his clenched palm is punching the helmet. Lucky for me the visor is shut.

I sigh deeply and try to shift on the couch to get rid of the cramps, which start crawling up my legs and back.

A bit strange? Come on, Natalia! You could call him anything – cracked, insane, alien on Earth – but hardly ‘a bit strange’!

I glance at the half-empty bottle of champagne seductively chilling in the ice bucket. If I’d known what Natalia had meant by ‘a bit strange’, I would have finished it before he handcuffed me and shoved the damn ball into my jaws.

‘Sag es!’ brings me out of my thoughts again.

I peep at his red face … What the hell does this crack-head think he is doing? I wouldn’t even call it masturbation! He tortures his penis in a spasmodic exertion. The awful tongue tossing in his distorted mouth, the dark brown hair stuck to the film of sweat on his broad brow, and the whimpering noises coming out of his fat body make a disgusting spectacle.

‘Sag es!’

According to the instructions he gave me before we started this session, I was supposed to say ‘I love you, I forgive you’ through the gag.

I wonder what my seventh-grade teacher would say if she walked in the door right now? She always believed in me and encouraged: ‘You are going to come out on top, Julia …’ Good shot, Anna Ivanovna. You were pretty close!

He shuts his eyes and wrinkles his forehead in concentration. Frustrated, he drops his limp penis and squats next to the small table in the centre of the room. He pauses only to wipe the trickle of sweat from his forehead. Then he quickly snorts the line of blow on the glass table, and doesn’t get up for a while, staring deadpan at the wall.

Hey, fat boy, get on with it so we can have some together after this. I think I deserve a little pick-me-up for my efforts here.

I wonder what could possibly have happened to turn his grey matter inside out like this. A few hours later, when I kick my ‘labour hour’ around with the girls, they will tell me some rumours about him having had a motorbike accident. Apparently, he was riding ‘under the influence’ with his fiancée in tow. She died there on the street, in his arms, in a puddle of mud. With the last beats of her heart, he stared at her wide-open eyes, full of terror, and at her bleeding lips that breathed in agony: ‘Please, baby, I don’t want to die.’

I shudder. I don’t know if he was injured in the accident, but after this short time we’ve spent together I can assure you that his brain was nowhere to be found after that crash.

‘Sag es!’

Yeah, whatever …

He finally comes back to the couch, pulling and beating his poor half-dead cock in front of my plastic shield. I try to say what he demands – anything to get this over and done with, and me out of here – but ‘I love you’, that forms beautifully in my throat, dissolves into an incoherent mumble as it hits the ball.

His small eyes devour every inch of my naked body, which is truly just skin and bone with boyish nipples where there are supposed to be breasts. The only reason why any man would choose to fuck me (aside from being a paedophile, of course) would be my big blue eyes and long blonde hair.

‘Sag es!’

His whole face is scrunched up in an ugly leer and his bottom lip is quivering as he makes a weird whining noise.

Oh please! Don’t tell me you are going to cry now! Pathetic, sick, even disturbing, but not just ‘a bit strange’, Natalia?!

He keeps on yanking and jerking and thrusting like a maniac – harder and harder. He’s going to pull that thing off if he doesn’t stop!

‘Sag es! Sag es!’ he whines over and over, then forcefully flips the visor up and pulls the bottom of the helmet so close that his soft crotch hits my face. I shut my eyes a second before the first squirt of semen hits them.

‘It’s over’ slips with warmth and ease into my head, then streams down through my body, echoing the semen on my face. My eyes are closed but I can still hear him sobbing, sniffling and mumbling.

I can’t believe this fucker just ruined my make-up!

All I’ve got from this pathetic episode is an experience I will never be able to share with my grandchildren and €60 with no promise of a tip.

Comment below to enter for a chance to win a Kindle copy of Twisted by Lola Smirnova!

Authors Supporting Authors Massive Giveaway Event

Win loads of prizes during this amazing event! I'm giving away copies of Falling for Autumn (Giveaway #2)! Best of luck =)

Giveaway #1:

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Giveaway #2

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Giveaway #3

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Giveaway #4

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Sneak Peak Blitz and Giveaway: The Buried by Shelley Coriell

THE BURIED by Shelley Coriell (October 28, 2014; Forever Mass Market; $8.00)

"It's cold. And dark. I can't breathe."

Successful, ambitious state prosecutor Grace Courtemanche is at the top of her game. Then she gets a chilling call from a young woman claiming to be buried alive. Desperate to find the victim before it's too late, Grace will do whatever it takes . . . even if it means excavating the darkest secrets of her own past and turning to the one man she thought she would never see again.

FBI agent Theodore "Hatch" Hatcher is a man without roots-and that's the way he likes it. But when a grisly crime shatters Cyprus Bend, Florida, Hatch is dragged back to the small town-and the one woman-he hoped was in his rearview for good. Forced to confront the wreckage of their love affair, Hatch and Grace may just find that sometimes the deepest wounds leave the most beautiful scars-and that history repeating itself may just be what they need to stop a killer . . . and save their own hearts.

Buy Links:

B&N

BAM!

iBooks

IndieBound

Amazon

About the author:

A former newspaper reporter, magazine editor, and restaurant reviewer. These days Shelley writes smart, funny novels for teens and big, edgy romantic suspense. A six-time Romance Writers of America Golden Heart Finalist, she lives and loves in Arizona with her family and the world's neediest rescue Weimaraner. When she's not behind the keyboard, you'll find her baking high-calorie, high-fat desserts and haunting local farmers markets for the perfect plum.

Social Media Links:

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

When I was five or six, I got out of bed one night to get a drink of water. As I walked by the living room where my mom and dad were watching TV, a woman on the screen was clawing her way out of an earthen grave. The sight of that mud-covered hand and sound of her choked breathing left me frozen with fear.

For years I had nightmares about being buried alive. I’d wake up cold and shaking and gasping for air. To this day, I fear not being able to breathe. So of course I wrote a book about it!

In THE BURIED, Grace Courtemanche—an ambitious, successful state prosecutor—is pulled into a world of terror and self-doubt when she receives calls from victims buried alive, and she must turn to the one man she swore she’d never need again, Hatch Hatcher, a rootless, smooth-talking FBI crisis negotiator in town to deal with a long-buried secret of his own.

Grace and Hatch’s story, book #2 in the Apostles Series featuring Parker Lord’s elite FBI team, was a tough one for me to write. I actually had to set it aside for two years because it was too dark. But when I finally figured out what the story was really about—family—I found my light, and even a bit of laughter, to balance all that dark.

I can’t wait for readers to join me for another dark and twisty but ultimately uplifting story of hope and the healing power of family.

-Shelley Coriell

Excerpt from THE BURIED by Shelley Coriell (On sale October 28, 2014)

As the bay of hounds tapered off, the huddle of men and women in the parking lot broke, moving swiftly. Hatch, on the other hand, moseyed to her side, his gait slow and easy, but there was nothing conciliatory in his eyes. “You should have told me.” His mouth and jaw barely moved as he spoke.

She tried to ease away, but he moved with her. “Told you what?”

“Hmmmmm, where should I start?” With his free hand, he jammed a finger in the air. “One, you received threats from a convicted felon. Two, you received nine phone calls from a girl presumably buried alive. And three, as we speak, a forensic team is sifting through dirt in your backyard looking for human bones.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, Princess. Dear, dear Princess.” He moved closer, a big, graceful, golden cat. He stopped a hairsbreadth from touching her, but the heat of his skin warmed her, nipping at the chill that had set in yesterday with Lia’s phone calls. When he spoke, his breath fanned her face in a low, rumbling half-purr, half-growl. “You have been and always will be my business.”

The words, the closeness, so Hatch. For a moment, she considered sinking into his strength and warmth, which proved how deeply rattled she was by the past twenty-four hours.

Hatch didn’t seem to notice the crazy thoughts flitting around her brain. He grabbed her elbow and led her toward a sheriff’s department SUV.

“I’m not going home.” Her boots dug into the damp earth.

Hatch opened the SUV’s passenger door. “I wouldn’t dare suggest it.”

“I’m involved in this.”

“That’s obvious.” He pointed to the seat.

“Where are we going?”

“Into the swamp to search for Lia Grant. Together.”

The humid air had left her hair a riot of waves, and she jammed a wayward curl behind her right ear. Together wasn’t hard for her. She was a team player when she had to be, and Lia Grant needed the biggest team they could muster, and frankly, Hatch was on a winning team. She’d be an idiot not to ally herself with him. She hopped in the SUV. “Where to?”

He reached into his pocket and took out a coin. “Call it in the air?”

“Wait! You’re going to let a coin toss determine our course of direction, which could very well determine if a girl lives or dies?”

Hatch fingered the coin. “Do you have a better plan?”

“Surely there’s a more systematic way to handle this. What does Agent MacGregor recommend?”

An enigmatic smile tugged at Hatch’s mouth. “Like all of us on Parker’s team, Jonny Mac understands the value of a good coin toss.” Hatch tossed the coin in the air, adding. “Heads we go right, tails, left.”

She snatched the coin in mid-air. Decades of tennis had done wonders for her hand/eye coordination. “I don’t think so.”

Hatch swept his hands at the dense forest stretching out behind the bait shop. “Fine, Princess. Lead and I shall follow.”

Grace cradled the coin in her palm. She’d already played the phone messages from Lia, listening for ambient sounds, ideally something like a jet plane, which could be tracked. But in all of the voicemails, she’d heard nothing but Lia’s increasingly desperate words.

I’m in a bad place, a really bad place.

A hand settled on her knee. Golden and steady. This was not Hatch her ex-husband but Hatch the Apostle. Hatch who was a master in a crisis situation. She ran her thumb over the face of the coin, and with quirked lips tossed it in the air. The coin spun and fell on the ground between them.
“Left.” Hatch pocketed the coin and with a seriousness she’d never seen from him, climbed into the SUV and drove into the swamp to find a girl who’d been buried alive.

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Massive 4K Fan Giveaway!!!

Thank you all for helping me reach 4,000 fans on Facebook and Twitter! To celebrate, I'm hosting a huge giveaway with tons of prizes: gift cards, paperbacks, eBooks and book swag! A big thank you to all the authors who have decided to take part. Giveaway is international and ends June 30. Best of luck!

Prize List:

$15 Amazon Gift Card

$10 Amazon Gift Card

$5 Amazon Gift Card

Choice of eBook (up to $5.00)

Falling for Autumn by Heather Topham Wood Signed Paperback

Speak of the Devil by Shawna Romkey Signed Paperback and Swag

Dakota Captive eBook and Paperback by Alythia Brown

Gemini Rising by Louann Carroll eBook

A Shadow of Time by Louann Carroll eBook

Life on the Edge by Jennifer Comeaux eBook

Wasteland by Lynn Rush eBook

Death Lies Between Us by Jody Kessler eBook

The Grave Winner by Lindsey Loucks eBook

The Grave Winner Signed Bookmark

Son of a Mermaid eBook by Katie O’Sullivan

Chasing Shadows eBook by Tia Silverthorne Bach

I, Zombie by Jo Michaels eBook

The Bird by Jo Michaels eBook

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Carina Press New Adult Blitz and Giveaway

New Adult Releases:

Stephanie Tyler:

-          Latest release – Redemption: A Defiance Novel (book 2 in trilogy - Nov 2013)

Danube Adele:

-          Latest release – Quicksilver Dreams (book 1 in Dreamwalkers series - Jan 2014)

Kristine Wyllys:

-          Latest release – Wild Ones (book 1 in The Lane series – Jan 2014)

Stina Lindenblatt:

-          Latest release – Tell Me When (book 1 in new series - Jan 2014)

10 Things Every Aspiring Writer Would Know by Stina Lindenblatt

1. Rejections aren’t the end of the world, even if they feel that way at the time. They’re like a dare. A dare from the agent or editor to challenge yourself to be a better writer and storyteller.  

2. Rejections don’t mean your story sucks. It might just mean it’s not the right story for that agent or editor. Even Stephen King and J.K. Rowling received rejections. Hard to believe, huh?

3. Social networking isn’t a waste of time. It’s fun. It’s a chance to meet new friends who will later be your biggest supporters. Did I mention it’s fun?

4. Remember the saying about putting all your eggs in one basket? Well, it applies to EVERYTHING in publishing. Don’t put all your hopes on landing your dream agent (query others who are looking for your genre). Don’t focus on only one social networking platform (on the other hand, you don’t want to dilute your efforts by being on ALL of them. That’s too exhausting). Don’t…well see #5 for this don’t.

5. It’s so easy to fall in love with your first story and not move on. You keep polishing it, even after you’ve started querying. An agent sends you a form rejection with nothing more than ‘not for me’ as the reason for the rejection, and you tweak the manuscript some more. It’s time to move on. Your first baby is out there, flapping its wings, hoping to catch the wind for a safe landing. Great. Now get to work on your next novel. If you plan to self publish, your next project can be a sequel. If you plan to go the traditional route, start a project that has nothing to do with the first book. There’s no guarantee your first book will be published, and you’re only wasting time working on a sequel if it doesn’t sell.

6. It’s rare that a writer will land a publishing contract with her first manuscript. For me, it was my fifth. I didn’t finish editing all of them. Some I realized wouldn’t stand a chance in the competitive market, and I shelved them. I considered each book practice for the next one. And with each book, I strived to do better than the last. That attitude shouldn’t change once you’re published.

7. Enjoy each stage of the process. Focus on the journey and not on the destination. And while you’re at it, figure out what success means to you, but pick something obtainable. Everyone wants to be a New York Times and USA Today bestseller, but not everyone will be one. If that’s what you’re striving for, and only focus on that, you’ll miss out on what writing all is about—touching the hearts of your readers and writing the stories that are important to you.

8. Read. Read. Read. Don’t just read in your genre. You might get a brilliant, fresh idea from reading a different genre. And don’t forget to read lots of crafts books on different aspects of writing. All of this will help you grow as a writer.

9. Do. Not. Plagiarize. Chances are great you will be caught, especially if you plagiarize from bestselling authors. Their fans will recognize the prose and will call you out on it, which I can guarantee will go viral. It won’t sell books; it will kill your writing career.

10. Live your life. Spend time with your friends and family. Have fun! Because one day you will land a publishing contract and with that comes DEADLINES. Yes, these are the dreaded dates that tend to be scheduled for when you’re away on vacation (been there) or when your kids are off from school (been there, too).

Is there anything you wish you had known when you first started writing with the goal of publication?

GIVEAWAY

Blitz-wide giveaway

Prizes - Open INT - 2 winners will win this prize pack:

-Ecopy  - Stephanie Tyler - Redemption: A Defiance Novel (book 2 in trilogy)

-Ecopy  - Danube Adele - Quicksilver Dreams (book 1 in Dreamwalkers series)

-Ecopy  - Kristine Wyllys  - Wild Ones (book 1 in The Lane series)

-Ecopy  - Stina Lindenblatt  -  Tell Me When (book 1 in new series)

-One $25 Amazon gift card

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Book Blitz and Giveaway: The Swan and the Jackal by JA Redmerski

 

By
NYT Bestselling Author J.A. Redmerski

An
Adult Suspense/Crime/Thriller/Romantic
Suspense

Releasing
March 5, 2014

Amazon
| Barnes and Noble | Kobo | Goodreads

KILLING
SARAI (Book, #1) is on sale for .99 cents for a limited time!

Fredrik Gustavsson never considered the possibility of love, or that anyone could ever understand or accept his dark and bloody lifestyle—until he met Seraphina, a
woman as vicious and blood-thirsty as Fredrik himself. They spent two short but
unforgettable years together, full of lust and killing and the darkest kind of
love that two people can share.

And then Seraphina was gone.

It’s been six years since Fredrik’s lover and sadistic partner in crime turned his world upside-down. Seraphina went into hiding and has eluded him ever since. Now, he’s getting closer to finding her, and an innocent woman named Cassia is the key to drawing Seraphina from the shadows. But Cassia—after sustaining injuries from a fire that Seraphina ignited—suffers from amnesia and can’t give Fredrik the information he desperately seeks. Having no other choice, Fredrik has been keeping Cassia locked in his basement as he not only tries to get her to recall her past—because she and Seraphina share it—but also to protect her from Seraphina,
who clearly wants her dead.

But Cassia is a light in the darkness hat Fredrik never believed existed. After a year subjected to her kindness and compassion, he finds himself struggling with his love for Seraphina, and his growing feelings for Cassia—because he knows that to love one, the other must die.

Will light win out over darkness, or will something more powerful than either further destroy an already tortured soul?

(Note: THE SWAN & THE JACKAL
is NOT a New Adult title.)

 Exclusive Release Excerpt

Cassia pushes herself closer when I thought she couldn’t get any closer and urges me
to look at her. Her right hand moves toward my face to console me, but I stop
it, holding it at the wrist and pushing it back down.

“The only one of us who should be talking about our past, is you,” I tell her.

Her doe-like eyes fall under a shroud of disappointment.

But she’s not going to give up so easily.

“You’ve asked so much of me, Fredrik,” she says with such kindness, “but when I ask anything of you, you turn me away. I only want to know this one thing. I don’t care anymore about Seraphina, or the history you have with her. I don’t even care
what I have to do with it.” Her soft hand ends up touching the side of my face anyway, and I’m not sure how she slipped it past my barrier. “All I care about anymore is you, Fredrik.” She peers deeply into my eyes and ensnares my gaze, her face full of heartbreak and longing. “What are your demons trying so hard to kill?”

I push her hand away more forcibly this time.

“Do you remember anything?” I ask, disregarding her question altogether.

“Stop,” she says with more intensity than I expected. “You’re going to give me this. 

Before you leave me alone down here another night, you’re going to tell me.”

The desperation in her eyes bores into me. I look away, only to look right back at her.

“Please…,” she says.

A lump moves down my throat and settles somewhere in my chest. All ten of my fingers spear through the top of my dark, messy hair and I let out a miserable sigh of defeat.

I never talk about my past to anyone. Ever. I try not to think about it, but on some days that is as futile as trying not to breathe. It wasn’t until I met Seraphina eight years ago that I learned to control it, that I became a much different man from the one who hunted shit stains like Dante Furlong, tortured and murdered them every other night, never feeling the satisfaction that I longed to feel with every kill. I was like a
drug addict, always looking for a fix but never really satisfied enough to stop. Never satisfied at all, because I only wanted to do it more and more.

Seraphina helped me control the perpetual urges. She showed me how to release the darkness within me with quieter, cleaner methods so that I didn’t leave a trail of bodies and evidence behind. But the biggest impact that Seraphina had on my life was making me feel like I had one. Because before her, I was just a speck of dust floating around in oblivion. I didn’t know the meaning of happiness, or understand the thrill of pleasure or the hunger for excitement. I was just a shell of a man who knew only darkness and death, who only felt the emotions of anger, and hatred, and rage and vengeance.

But Seraphina, she was my dark angel, who came into my life and showed me that there was so much more to living than I ever understood. Ever since she left me in that field the night she set my house ablaze, I’ve been slowly but surely succumbing to my old life again, and I need to find her before I fall too far.

If I haven’t already.

        

About the Author

Born November 25, 1975, J.A. (Jessica Ann) Redmerski is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. She lives in North Little Rock, Arkansas with her three children and a Maltese. She is a lover of television and books that push boundaries and is a huge fan of AMC’s The Walking Dead.

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Book Blitz and Giveaway: Finding Monsters by Liss Thomas

Finding Monsters (Guardians
of Esurack #1)

by Liss Thomas

Release Date: 10/16/13

Summary from Goodreads:

Monsters are real but they're not what we'd expect. Their realm
lays hidden only to be found in darkness. They watch their humans and keep them
from the dark portals leading to their world. To touch is forbidden... but not
all follow the rules.



Missy has been fighting to live her entire life, but when she finds herself in
a realm of unique and sometimes deadly monsters, she discovers just how much of
a survivor she really is. Accidentally transferred to this mysterious realm by
her monster and only friend, Charlie, he finds himself weak and unable to
protect her. The only way she can defend herself and him, is to become a
monster herself. But an unknown dark stalker watches her progress and if he
steals her power, he will unleash a scourge on both his world and the world she
left behind.

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About the Author

I love writing fantasy
fiction and especially for young adults. Many of my stories contain real life
issues that teens face and although there’s a fantasy element to the solution,
my job is to provide hope that things will get better. I’ve seen too many articles
about teens who end their lives over bullying. I’m working on a spin off series
from The Guardians of Esurack and hope to use this subject throughout each
book. Life is too short to give in to bullies. I hope I can make that clear
through my writings.

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Chapter 6 Excerpt – The Monster

After washing and dressing, I make my way to the cooking fires to prepare breakfast for Missy and myself. I carry the tray of breads and fruits to her room. I knock. I knock again. Opening the door, I glance inside, ready to retreat if she is still sleeping. I panic. Missy is not in her room. Flinging open the door, I put the tray down. Her bed is made. I check the washing room which is also empty. I check my room just in case. Not there. I run to my parents’ room with my heart thrashing in my chest.

“Where is she?” I cry without preamble. “Where is she?”

Mother comes to me and tries to calm my fears. “She left this morning before dawn. She has started her quest.”

“I don’t understand. What quest? Why didn’t she tell me? Who is protecting her?” I look in turn to each as I question them. I can’t think straight. The hurt inside is growing, increasing with my panic.

“Charlie, Missy has gone on a quest to become a monster. I explained to her what happened to you when you touched her. She wants you to be as you were. As she completes the tasks of her quest, she will gain traits of a monster, strengths and abilities you probably take for granted. She will grow stronger, and so will you.”

I am reeling from the news. Did I want her to become a monster like me? Somehow, I always envisioned myself as a human for her. Staggering toward the window, I look out into the distance. I scan the horizon for any sign of her. She’s gone. My human is gone. “Who’s protecting her?” I ask not looking at them.

“This is a quest she must complete on her own, Charlie,” Mother says.

I whirl in a rage. “You sent her into our world alone?” I let out a stream of curses as the hurt inside turns to nausea. I run from the room before either can stop me. I run through the halls, knocking over a servant before I reach the outer doors. I wrench them open and scream her name. Other bulls stop to stare at me as I continue yelling for my human to return to me. Father appears behind me.

“Enough, Charlie!” Father jerks me back inside and I slump to the polished stone floor in silence.

Mother approaches me and kneels, her long cream dress bunching around her. “She left you a note.” She puts the letter in my hand and leaves with Father. I stare at the folded parchment, a tremor runs through me. I rise and storm to my room, slamming the door. I sit on my bed, unfold the letter, and begin to read:

“My dearest Charlie, please forgive me for leaving you like this, but I fear it’s the only way we will truly be together and happy. I don’t want you crippled by my presence and that is what has happened. It’s almost as though we’ve traded places; you are sickly now and I am well. Only this time, I have the power to make you whole again. I have received my first task in a series of three that will transform me into a monster. Your mother assures me that I will be able to change back to my normal appearance at will so I am not really changing that much at all, right? Don’t fear for me, my love, your mother has told me all I need to know about your world. I am currently on my way to challenge ‘The Devil’. It sounds worse than it is. I should return to you in three days. I wish you could be with me. Even a tiny bit of you to comfort me. The hurt I feel inside is worse than the pain I felt as a human. I know you are feeling it too. Dawn will be here soon, and I must leave before then. I love you with all my heart.

Missy.

I read the note again and again. I won’t let her be alone. Moving toward the corner, I view my reflection in the full-length mirror. I grip the sides and stare for a moment before I speak.

“Reflection! Come forth.” I stand back and watch as my reflection in the mirror steps though the pane in front of me. “I need you to find our human and stay with her. I only have the strength to transform you into a butterfly but she will know who we are in that form.” I pull up the shimmering blue light and transform my reflection into the swallowtail butterfly. I feel the drain on my strength but don’t care. I open the window and my reflection flies away in search of our human. I check my mirror and I can see all that it sees. Satisfied that we will be together soon, I turn the mirror so I can see it from the bed and lie down to conserve my strength.

“I’m coming, Missy  …  I’m coming.”

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