Friday, December 28, 2012

{Promo} Room 3 by Jonathan D. Allen #IOBookTours


Room 3
by Jonathan D. Allen


Pages: 437
Published: November 11th 2012
Publisher: Qwendellonia Publishing
ISBN: 0615603912
ASIN: B00A6GR7XG

Torn away from everyday life and held prisoner in a tiny cabin, Kelli Foster must harden herself to survive torture and isolation. When Carla is introduced to Kelli’s small world, the experiments they are forced to endure take a dark turn. Kelli is forced to choose: Save her own life, or free her new friend? Sacrifice her dreams or sacrifice her love? 

Following a failed escape attempt, Kelli, Carla, and Kelli’s lover Samarta work together to unravel the mystery behind the shadowy group that has kidnapped them all. Their path to freedom lies through mind-bending discoveries and globe-trotting adventures, culminating in a battle between godlike beings that hold Kelli’s fate in their hands.

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Thursday, December 27, 2012

{Giveaway, Review & First Chapter} Veiled Mist by Eleanor T. Beaty #IOBookTours

Welcome one and all to my stop on the Veiled Mist tour brought to you by I.O. Book Tours. Here you will find all the information about the book, author, and awesome giveaway along with my review of the book. So, sit back, relax and have an enchanting time!
About the Book


Veiled Mist
by Eleanor T. Beaty

Pages : 260
PublisherB.Q. Publishing Company
Release dateSeptember 28th 2012

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Book Description : On the Caribbean island of Maurray, spoiled-rotten, fifteen-year-old Hanna wakes up to a nightmare. She is not the daughter of an aristocrat but the orphan of a Gypsy. She is the descendant to a mystical Gypsy tribe. Their magic is strong and has lasted six hundred years. Ornella, the tribe’s guardian, arrives at the island with her mutt, Count Dracula, to guide Hanna. Hanna is told she must embrace her heritage or die at the ripe age of seventeen. But Hanna does the unthinkable, she chooses death. She hates Gypsies and would rather die. What she doesn’t know is that her death will destroy the entire tribe. What she also doesn’t know is how persuasive Ornella can be. The nightmare begins.
First Chapter

CHAPTER ONE


Caribbean Island of Maurray
The wind blasted against her face, blowing her hair back and filling her mouth with a bitter taste.
       Hanna covered her head with her hands. Oh, my God. Her hair was stiff and knotted, like a freaking bird’s nest. No way. Her hair did not knot. No knots. Ever. Hanna pulled on a strand, intending to untangle it and screamed. Besides knotting her hair, the wind was changing its color? Brown…deadpan brown? The color…of dog poop. Never would she be caught with that vile color. She would rather be dead than have that hair color. What had happened to her beautiful bright-gold, shiny hair?
       She screamed at her brother John to close the window and fought her way to her hairbrush which hovered in the air, taunting her, daring her to grab it. Hanna’s hand shot out. She stretched her arm. She was but inches from the brush’s black handle…she almost had it…John hadn’t moved. Hanna was about to call out to him again when a dark shadow covered the window. She froze and dropped her hand as she saw a face with sagging, dry skin and hollowed cheeks. His bald head, more of a skull with a thin layer of skin stretched over it, had black sores the size of squashed grapes, oozing pus. He looked mummified.
       Mummy-Man’s meatless lips parted exposing rotten teeth. The anger in his sunken eyes as he jumped onto the windowsill held the only telltale sign of life. His bony fingers grabbed the window frame and he sprang towards Hanna. Hanna faltered back until she hit the wall. Mummy-Man let out an angry roar, blasting Hanna with the smell of rotten, decayed flesh. Hanna gagged. She had a sensitive stomach, any strong smell made her gag, if not throw up. Even in her dreams? Hanna held her breath so as not to barf.
       John stepped back and looked up at the ceiling, unaware of the danger. Hanna yelled at John as Mummy-Man’s hand shot to grab him. John continued to look up, as if he weren’t there. Didn’t he see the disgusting creature inches away?
Hanna screamed at John again, telling him to duck. Bang, the shutter crashed against the outside wall. Mummy-Man and John were sucked violently out. The hairbrush followed. Hanna tried to call after John, but instead released a snort. She opened her eyes. Had she really snorted? Like a pig? She gasped and covered her mouth.
       How disgusting.
       A pig.
       Hanna swallowed. Her mouth tasted foul. Even more disgusting than the snort. Gross. Hanna’s right hand shot out from under the sheets and grabbed the glass of water by her bed. She took a large gulp, swished it around her mouth and swallowed. She did not want to throw up. A second swish took the bad taste away. She lay back down.
       Why was her room so bright? Why were the shutters wide open? She sat up in bed and saw the large portrait of Princess Diana hanging lopsided on the wall opposite the window. Oh, no, had her dream come true? She ran her hands through her hair. A sigh of relief left her plump lips as she found no knots. She inspected several strands. She was still blond. Hanna eyed the Princess, her idol, whose shy smile and bright blue eyes had captured the world. There wasn’t even a breeze, so why was Lady Di lopsided?
       The sweet perfume of daylilies drifted in from the garden patch below Hanna’s window as Hanna climbed out of bed and stretched. Their fragrance and the sunlight eased her feverish mind, pushing the nightmare aside. She turned to the fireplace and her eyes went wide. Her heart pounded inside her head and the scream that came out of her mouth resounded through the Williams’ English-style mansion. The ten-bedroom brick house, with its impeccable flowerbeds and design hedges, was located in Maurray City’s most elite neighborhood, the King James. The neighbors were far enough not to have heard Hanna, but that would not be the case for the other residents of the prestigious mansion: John Williams III, his estranged, but strangely still attached wife Camilla, and John, their offspring, were all jolted awake. However, it wasn’t any of them who came to find out why Hanna was screaming.
       It was Vani, the five-foot Guatemalan housekeeper. She hurried into the room and came to a halt a few feet from Hanna, who stood near her bed facing the fireplace.
       Vani looked around the room. She stretched her neck to check the red couch facing the terrace doors in the small living room, then gave Hanna a quick inspection. “What, Miss Hanna? Why you scream?” Vani looked around again. “Someone here?”
       Hanna stood frozen, her eyes were all that moved, from the fireplace to the maid and back. Her lips seemed to be glued shut, or her jaw muscles were frozen, whichever it was, she just couldn’t speak. Vani clapped her hands a few inches from Hanna’s face, missing Hanna’s nose by inches. Hanna jolted back to life and turned to glare at Vani. Rage, she felt rage.
       Vani gasped as Hanna leaned into her with a deranged look on her face.
       “Oh, devil’s look,” Vani hissed under her breath. She raised her arms to block any possible blows. “Miss Hanna, stop acting like that. You possessed by bad spirit.”
       “What happened to my doll?” Hanna finally yelled. Her words came out in a burst, forcing Vani to look away as spittle sprayed her face.
Vani took two steps back. “What doll?”
       Hanna jabbed a finger at the mantle where her antique French doll stood inside its thick glass case, with both arms lying on the bottom. “I only have one doll. How did her arms fall off?”
Vani turned her black eyes to the doll and shuddered. “Doll is old. Maybe arms get tired…”
       Hanna continued to glare at Vani. The shudder, Hanna didn’t like the shudder. Why did Vani always shudder when Hanna mentioned the doll? “You moved it, didn’t you?”
       Vani took another step back. “No…no…I don’t come in while you sleeping.”
       “Liar.” Hanna picked up her shoe and threw it at Vani. “Liar.”
       Vani ducked. “I never touch…that…evil doll.” Vani made the sign of the cross as she retreated to the door.
       “I’m going to tell my grandfather you broke my doll.”
       “Go, tell what you want, chica loca,” Vani hissed, ducking out as Hanna threw the second shoe.
       The shoe hit the door and chipped off a flake of white paint. Only when the shoe fell to the floor did Hanna realize what she had just done. She looked at her shaking hands as if they belonged to someone else.            Then she slumped onto the bed crying.
       There was a hole inside her chest. A huge dark hole…a loss, she had lost something. Hanna turned to the doll. She wished she could hug it and make the pain go away. The eighteenth-century doll, with its delicate features, diamond tiara and yellow-laced gown, was all she had left of her mother. That doll gave Hanna great comfort every day. It was her mother Marie watching over her. Marie, a descendant of the French aristocracy, had died in childbirth. On Hanna’s fifth birthday, her grandfather John II had brought the doll and placed it on the mantelpiece. For ten years it hadn’t been moved, so she thought. How could this happen? Now her doll looked like a cheap prop from a B-horror film. Hanna shuddered. Oh, my God, she’d shuddered? Was shuddering contagious?
       Maybe Vani was right, but not about the doll. There was something evil going on. Something evil had broken her doll. The shutters banged again, making Hanna jump. She stared at the window and wiped her face. She had locked those shutters before going to bed. She was sure of it. Hanna stood and walked over to the window. She pulled the shutters closed, then changed her mind and threw them open, fastening them to the slip-hooks on the outside wall.
       No, the doll wasn’t evil. Hanna twisted around and made her way back to the fireplace. She placed a gentle kiss on the glass case and headed to the bathroom to get ready for school. Her mind stayed with the doll while her green eyes watched her hand comb her blond strands; a robot doing its routine chore. She would get it fixed. Hanna applied black mascara and some gloss to her lips, wondering if the doll’s arms falling off could be an omen.
       Omens were an obsession with her grandmother Elizabeth; she saw omens in everything and everywhere. While some on the island called Elizabeth a witch, Hanna thought of her as spiritual, albeit eerie. Vani called her Chupacabra, the mythical goat-bloodsucking demon creature. Last week, when Hanna had told Elizabeth she’d dreamt of a hand stabbing her doll in the back, her grandmother explained it forewarned betrayal. Elizabeth told Hanna to be vigilant. Her grandmother didn’t like the doll. Hanna wondered what she would say about the doll’s fallen arms. As she headed across the bedroom, the shutters banged again. Hanna twirled around wide-eyed. That was not possible. Shutters didn’t get loose from those hooks. Did they? Perhaps the hooks were weak.
       She went back to her bed and slipped her hand under her pillow and removed an old, faded black-and-white picture of a young woman sitting sideways smiling at the camera. Marie wore her dark-blond hair up in a loose bun known as the French twist. Her mother had a kind face. Her almond-brown eyes and small full lips held a childish innocence. Her beaded evening gown spilled to the floor around her legs. She wore a delicate diamond necklace and matching diamond earrings.
       The photo was quite creased from all the nights Hanna held it under her pillow while falling asleep. She wished she had more pictures, but her grandmamma told her Marie was extremely shy, a recluse almost, and didn’t allow her picture to be taken. This had been an exception, taken two days before her entire family had been wiped out during an earthquake in France. Poor Marie’s life had been a sequence of tragedies. Hanna kissed the picture and put it away in the bedside table drawer as she did every morning so no one would touch it. She would give anything to have known her.
       In the kitchen she found John eating a large bowl of honey-puff cereal. The thirteen-year-old geek couldn’t be more different from Hanna. In looks, he took after his mother Camilla, dark-blond hair and brown eyes. As to his high IQ, that was a mystery. Hanna sat down next to John and looked at the bowl with a yellow mush. “Vani, is this diet banana?”
       “Yes, yes. Diet banana,” Vani called from within the pantry.
       John had told Hanna that the “diet banana” was a lie, invented by Vani to get around Hanna’s demand for a fruit larger than a grape, with only fifty calories. Hanna didn’t believe him.
       “So, what happened? Did your Prada shoes run off with your Versace bag?” John asked.
       Hanna paused to consider if John might have messed with her doll. She watched him stuff a large spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
       John felt her stare. “What?”
       “Did you happen to sneak into my room this morning?”
       “Ha, ha. I don’t have a death wish. Why? What’s missing?”
       “Someone broke my doll’s arms.”
       John shuddered and Hanna caught him doing it. “What’s with all the shuddering? That doll is not evil.”
       John took another spoonful of cereal and turned back to watch Hanna.
       “I have to get it fixed,” Hanna said. She ate the mush and drank her lemon juice.
       “Get what fixed?”
       “The doll, John, the doll. Is there anything stuck in my teeth?”
       “Mush doesn’t stick to teeth. Grandmamma might know of someone.”
       She might, but Hanna wouldn’t ask her. Grandmamma would use the excuse to disappear with it. But her grandfather would help. “Maybe Grandpapa.” Hanna took out her phone and hit speed dial. John II didn’t pick up. He always picked up for her. Why wasn’t he picking up? Had something happened to him?
       John’s face lit up. “Did you talk to him about the car?”
       “Not yet. I think there’s still time for that.”
       John wanted their grandfather’s 1960 Mustang for his sixteenth birthday. He knew their paternal grandfather had a soft spot for Hanna.       The doorbell rang. That would be Thomas, their driver, letting them know it was time to go. John grabbed his backpack while Hanna grabbed her Chanel handbag and one notebook. The two headed for the limousine. Hanna pressed redial as she walked out the front door, but hung up before the phone began to ring. It had been no nightmare. In the daylily patch beneath her window was a blackened area the shape of a body. Mummy-man.
Review

 Witches, Gypsies and Evil Wizards, Oh My!

Veiled Mists is about Hanna who lives a very privileged life and loves every minute of it. She is your spoiled, shallow typical teenager who thinks that her mother was this beautiful princess. She finds out, however that her overbearing grandmother has been lying to her about who she is and who her mother was her entire life. Hanna also finds out that, she is a gypsy and that if she doesn’t accept her destiny by her sixteenth birthday she will die by the time she is seventeen.

First, I have to say that this book has your typical teenage stuff going on. You have your snobby shallow leading lady which is Hanna in this book. You then have her cronies, which aren’t that bad but her “friend” Susan needs an attitude adjustment and then of course you have your hunky man candy Alistair who Hanna just happens to be in love with but he doesn’t want anything to do with the shallow Hanna.

I really enjoyed Veiled Mists because it was different from the other books I had been reading and Gypsies have not been in my typical reading repertoire. The characters were well written and had great personality, which made the story even better. I have to say though the best character in the book had to be Count Dracula, which is Ornella’s companion, and yes, he is a dog. Nevertheless, he is totally his own dog that can communicate and is seriously funny especially when Ornella is threatening to turn him into a poodle. lol I also love Hanna’s grandfather because he is who keeps Hanna focused and seems to have been the only one that ever really looked after Hanna, loved her and did his best to keep her best interest at heart. Unlike her grandmother that really only gave a darn about herself and how things would look if there were a gypsy in the family. Anyway, the story is one of those that I couldn’t put it down when I started reading it. It was easy to get lost in what was going on and what you thought was about to happen. I hated when the book ended though because I wanted more and still want more. Maybe there will be more to this story, I know I am hoping for it.

I give this book

*Disclosure Notice*
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for my personal and honest review. I was not compensated in any way. All thoughts and opinions expressed herein are my own.
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About the Author
Eleanor T. Beaty


I am Brazilian born and raised, of American parents. I live in Sao Paulo with my third husband and children. I studied at the American school in Brazil, in boarding schools in Switzerland and the US. I have a BA in English Literature from FIU. I published a YA trilogy in Brazil and another YA novel in Turkey in 2001, now in its fifth edition. My passion is history and spiritualism. Besides Veiled Mist, I have another YA novel, Fallen Ruler, being released soon.
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Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Merry Christmas!!


May you have
the spirit of Christmas
which is Peace,
the gladness of Christmas
which is Hope,
and the Heart of Christmas
which is Love


I wanted to wish all of you a wonderful and Merry Christmas from my family to yours.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

{Giveaway & Excerpt} Kindred of the Fallen by Isis Rushdan

Welcome one and all to my stop on the Kindred of the Fallen book tour brought to you by Bewitching Book Tours. Here you will find information about the book and author along with an excerpt from the book and an awesome giveaway. So, sit back, relax and have an enchanting time.
About the Book


KINDRED OF THE FALLEN (Kindred Chronicles #1)
by Isis Rushdan

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Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Date of Publication: January 8, 2013
ISBN: 9781619212893
ASIN: B009R89AF2
Number of pages: 444
Word Count: 115,000
Cover Artist: Kanaxa

Book Description

Serenity’s soul-reading ability lets her easily create custom tattoos. Everything else in her life is a struggle, from trying to make it work with her best friend, Evan, to nightmares and visions that make her question her sanity.

Then she meets a man who sharpens her craving for something more.

Cyrus has been preparing to claim her as his Blessed mate—the other half of a split soul that, once reunited, is his only chance to break the curse that plagues his people.

One moment, armed militants are firing questions Serenity cannot answer. The next, she is safe in Cyrus’s arms…and learning she isn’t even human. She is Kindred, blessed with preternatural powers, cursed to suffer the twin horrors of the blood rage and the dark veil.

Their union is the greatest hope for redemption in a thousand years, but not all Kindred want to be saved. A dark secret could snuff out their lives before love has a chance to unite them…and redeem the Kindred for all time.

Greater the love…sweeter the pleasure…higher the price that must be paid.
Excerpt

EXCERPT 1 (Word Count 794)


The interminable tick tock, tick tock punctured her thoughts. She rubbed her forehead, massaging in deep circles. Little good it did against the headache hammering her brain. Too bad the windows didn’t open, she’d kill for a breeze. Or an oxygen mask. Why wasn’t the a/c pumping out more air? It might be September, but she was burning up.

A tingle danced over her body, raising the hairs on her arms. A gust of heat slammed into her, surged through her skin, beyond her flesh, rousing the quintessence of her being. Energy swirled in her torso, electric embers stirred ablaze. An underlying current that had grown more vibrant since the dreams now bustled with vigor.

A loud rap at the door startled her and she jumped. In the doorway stood a sinfully handsome man with lush dark hair. A dazzling smile swept across the most stunning face she’d ever seen. Not pretty-boy model perfect, but so savagely beautiful she salivated.

This was her client?

The stranger sauntered into the office. His charcoal suit had clean lines and hugged his firm, athletic body. He strolled around her desk and right up to her with casual, confident ease, like they were longtime friends.

Customers didn’t come behind the desk or invade her personal space. Not in her territory, where all the power resided quite literally in her hands. She wanted to move back or shoo him to a chair five feet away, but she could only gulp, feet welded to the floor.

He extended his hand, but her first and only chance to peek into his soul couldn’t be squandered on a premature handshake. Even though instinct prodded her to touch him.

“Hello, I’m—”

“No! Don’t tell me your name.” Serenity glanced at his outreached hand, then back up at the heartrending face that made her legs shake. “Didn’t Dougie explain the rules?”

Looking down at her, he lowered his hand. Something playful or mischievous tugged at the naughty curve of his mouth. “Sorry.” He didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.

He stepped closer, his insanely masculine, incredibly sexual body bearing down on her. He even smelled divine. Spicy wilderness with sweet hints of cardamom and sandalwood.

Raw recognition poked at her memory as if she knew him, but she’d never seen him before. This was certainly the type of man one didn’t forget. Rivulets of sublime energy emanated from him. In all her days, every person she’d come across had lacked this distinctive quality. His body purred with a charged current, foreign yet familiar, comforting and unnerving her at the same time.

“You need to sit,” she said, suddenly lightheaded, her voice faint. When he quirked an eyebrow, she added, “So we can begin the consultation.”

“Certainly.” He brushed around her and sat in her chair.

Her chair! Only inches away. The audacity of him. Her heart thumped so hard and fast she could barely breathe. “Not there.”

He lounged back in the seat, getting more comfortable, sensuous smile deepening. Alluring blue eyes, dark and exotic, locked on hers. “Where would you like me?” he asked in a liquid velvet voice that poured over her thick as warm butterscotch.

A hot flush set her face on fire. Evan. I’m getting married to Evan. She repeated the words in her mind like a prayer to protect her from this complete stranger. When she swallowed, she realized her mouth had been hanging open. How long had she been gaping at him?

He gazed at her with such intensity another sweet flush of heat fluttered over her entire body. She needed to do this consultation and get him the hell out of her office.

“Never mind.” The sooner this was done, the better. She shoved her palm toward him. “Please place your hand on mine.”

His fingertips skimmed hers, his warm hand sliding toward her arm until they were palm to palm. A delicious tingle licked up her spine as his long, thick fingers curled around her, his thumb kissing the inside of her wrist where her pulse throbbed.

A moan blossomed in her chest, but she killed the mutinous noise with a harsh clearing of her throat. She’d worked under pressure before, though nothing as sweet as this. She shut her eyes, determined to do her job and ignore the titillation of his touch stirring her mind into a tizzy. Distraction wouldn’t derail her now. Focusing on the silken ribbons of energy caressing her from scalp to sole, she cleared away all thoughts.

An image blasted in her mind, bright, scorching: him holding her, lips pressed against hers, drawing her close in an embrace.

She yanked her hand away.

“Is that it?” His brow wrinkled. “What did you see?”

Not a damn thing she could mention.



EXCERPT 2 (Word Count 438)


Cyrus stroked Serenity’s arm, his heart tight as a fist and throbbing. His pool of energy gushed and swelled inside of him. Exhilarating jolts, unlike anything he’d ever felt, set his skin aflame. His nerve endings tingled like bare wires.

He’d watched her for the last ten days from a distance, waiting for the perfect opportunity to meet her. After his reckless disaster earlier in her office, he needed this to go the way he’d planned. For more than two hundred years, he had imagined this, when he’d finally meet his kabashem, the other half of his soul. If he ever found her, his mission was clear.

Claim her at any cost and put an end to the curse.

“My house outside the city offers a spectacular view. It’s the perfect place to appreciate the stars. And I promise you’ll enjoy a meal you’ll never forget.”

Was he being too forward? His impulsive, less aggressive tactic at her studio had backfired.

Sweat slicked his palms and his pulse raced. Ten days should have been long enough to prepare. What was wrong with him? He’d never been nervous going into battle, not even the first time he held a sword ready to kill. But having her within reach threw him off kilter worse than taking a fist to the head.

“I can’t have dinner with you,” she said in a solemn voice that wavered.

“We both have to eat. Why not do it together?”

She raised her left hand with the ring facing him. “I’m engaged.”

“Happily?”

Her eyes grew wide for a moment.

“You’re used to getting what you want, aren’t you?” Her gaze slipped from his face. “Women probably throw themselves at you all the time, tossing away their morals along with their panties, eager to get into your bed. I hate to disappoint you twice in one day, but I’m not that type of woman.”

He sucked in a breath, smooth and slow. “You’re right, I am used to getting what I want, but you’re wrong about the women. Casual sex is for the undisciplined, and none of the pursuits in my life are casual.” He leaned closer. “I didn’t mean to offend you with my invitation. I admire your moral compass. Means you’ll never get lost.”

She rolled her eyes and snickered.

Time for uncensored honesty. “Forgive my forwardness, but I sensed a connection between us and thought you had as well.”

She met his gaze.

“The kind of connection one can’t deny or ignore,” he continued. “The kind that happens once in a lifetime. The kind for which rules are meant to be broken.”

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About the Author
Isis Rushdan


Isis Rushdan was born and raised in New York City. She has a B.A. in psychology from The Ohio State University. Wanderlust has taken her across the globe and has kept her moving every three years. Fortunately, she is blessed with a husband who shares her passion for travel, movies and fantastic food. Prior to following her bliss as a writer, she had a bright career as an intelligence officer in the U.S. Air Force. She currently resides in sunny Florida, where she hopes to finally establish roots, with her husband, son and canine kiddies.
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Giveaway
$75 Amazon Gift Card and signed cover flat. 

Friday, December 21, 2012

{Giveaway & Review} Flight by J.A. Huss #IOBookTours

Welcome one and all to my stop on the Flight tour brought to you by I.O. Book Tours. This is the third book in this amazingly awesome series. Here you will find all the information about this book and the author. There is also still an awesome giveaway going on so be sure to enter the rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.

I have enjoyed reading these books so much and would greatly recommend them. They are however not YA novels and they do have strong language but they are well written and the story keeps you turning the page.

Warning : This book does contain adult language and situations.
About the Book

Flight (I am Just Junco #3)
by J.A. Huss

Pages : 370
PublisherScience Future Press
Release dateOctober 1st 2012

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Book Description


Lies and Luck, they’ll both get you in the end.

There’s a new twist on an old prophecy and this one brings the End of Days. Junco must make a choice – human or avian? Only one race will survive.

Lucan has secrets and the lies are flowing like a mountain river during spring thaw. But he needs Junco to cooperate just a little bit longer or it all falls apart.

The Siblings on Earth are waiting for the Seventh to return and pull their clutch together. But Earth has secrets too – secrets that change everything.

Junco has survived against impossible odds, but the cost of survival is higher than she ever imagined. Luck is about to catch up with Junco Coot and her debt must be paid.
First Chapter

CHAPTER ONE

"Abso-fucking-lutely not, Lucan." I turn my back on him and shake my head as I take in his office. I've never been in here before and it's got my interest up. Focus, Junco. "I'm not gonna be stuck with those girls!"
He shuffles around some tech devices on his excessive desk and then answers a call on his com, spitting out short, curt responses that don't give me much of a hint at what he's actually talking about. My eyes scan the books on his shelf.
Mythology? Jasus fuck, you've got to be kidding me.
I pace a little and throw him a few dirty looks at being made to wait for his conversation to be over. Finally, I slump down in a chair. He doesn't even look up from whatever he's entering into his tech. I lean my head back and groan as he abruptly ends the call.
"Junco, I was on the com with the Archer of Clutch, please try and act like a grown-up."
I scowl at him and whine as my arms go up in the air in exasperation. "I want to be with a team, Lucan. Why are you doing this to me?"
"You don't need a team, you're going to Earth in a week and you'll have a team then. But for now, you'll babysit the girls and teach them what it means to be a warrior." He pinches the bridge of his nose and I know I'm giving him a headache. He looks up at me as if reading my mind. "Just to clarify, Junco – it's not you who is giving me a headache, it's them."
"Them? Them who?" I say, squinting my eyes.
He groans. "Those girls. Get rid of them."
I laugh. "What? But you promoted them so I wouldn't have to be the only one. Or the first."
He looks up and his eyes are dead serious. "Junco, you are the first, like it or not, that's the fact. Everyone knows it, there is no way around it. And these girls are complainers. They don't want to work, they don't want to fight, they don't want to get hurt. What good is a warrior who can't do those simple things? Test them, get rid of the ones who disobey or fail. There are only about a handful of good ones in that group, weed them out."
I just stare at him as he fiddles through the various tech items. "Here is your com back." He hands me the flexible little card. "I've coded it for access to the private quarters until your biometrics can be updated. Go find your room and get settled."
I don't move or speak.
"Get out, Junco. We're done."
"Yes, sir." I salute and leave.



Tier is down the hallway talking to a few guys I don't know. He smiles as he spots me and leaves the group. "What did he say?"
"I'm stuck training the girls for a week, Tier. And I have to live at his house!"
Tier scowls down at me with his green eyes, a little glow of annoyance in there. "So he told ya no?"
I shake my head. "No, not really. He said he wanted me to get rid of the girls. He's not happy with them. I'm supposed to cut them down to a handful and then I'll have my team when we go to Earth."
"But ya can't come live with us?"
I look up at him as he directs me to start walking with a firm hand on the middle of my back. "Right. He said I'm to go to his place and find my room and settle in." I pout a little, I admit it. I was looking forward to moving in with Tier's team, my old Fledge team. To seeing Annun and Tessen again and settling in there for a week before we leave for Earth.
Tier just shrugs at me. "Well, OK then. Let's go."
"That's it?" I look up as we turn the corner of the hallway and start walking towards the elevator.
"Junco, you don't get to debate orders." He stops us to consider this for a moment. "It was an order?"
I shrug.
He laughs at me and pulls me in. "It's only a week, ya know I'll be on the Earth team, so–" The elevators open and he pushes me away. "Do you have credentials to get to Lucan's quarters?"
I pull out my com. "It's on here for now."
We enter the elevator and Tier waves my hand across the biometrics and asks for the top floor. "It's a nice place. You won't be unhappy there, Junco."
"He's punishing me for breaking up the 039, I know it."
"You didn't do that, it was all Ashur and Braun. He knows that."
The elevator stops and the doors open. Tier waves me through and I stand in a giant lobby. "Where do we go now?"
"This is it, Junco."
"Oh, it looks like a hotel."
"It's the president's home. What did ya think it looked like?"
Not a hotel, obviously. It's furnished much like the 039 – minimal, reflective white tile floors, chrome. It's got a traditional estate home layout that I'd find on Earth. Large foyer that contains an elaborate stairway made up of thin cables and floating glass steps. On either side of the foyer are two large rooms, the one to the right a formal living area and the one to the left a formal dining area.
A cocktail party house.
I've been to a few of these with my father as I was growing up. He dragged me all over the world, not only for competitions and assassinations, but also social stuff. Probably to show me off for a possible future sale.
I peek into the living room and spy my black baby grand.
"What the fuck?" I look over at Tier who just shrugs. "Obviously he's had this planned."
"Come on, let's find yer room." He drags me up the stairs, which actually make me nervous because I don't care for the whole floating step thing, and then puts his palm out for my com. I hand it over and he starts waving it in front of biometric pads outside the various doors.
In the end we don't need to look so hard for the room because there's a small ankle-high servo standing guard at a door chirping Junco's Room over and over again until Tier swipes my com at it and kicks it out of the way. He laughs despite my scrunched-up annoyed face. "Feel at home yet, darlin'?"
"I don't get what this is."
Tier smiles and squeezes my shoulder. "Junco, there are worse things than being treated special by Lucan. Indulge him, he likes ya and he hates everyone. Let him spoil ya. He's treated me special my whole life and take my word for it, it's not a bad deal if ya can get it."
I'd forgotten about that. "Did he make you live with him?"
He shakes his head and waves my com in front of the biometrics on the door and it clicks open. "Nah, boys don't need protectin', Juncs. Only girls."
The lights go on as I walk in and it's my same room from the 039, only in a much bigger space and a much bigger window. In fact, the window is an entire wall on the opposite side of the room and it leads out to a terrace.
I smile and look back. "Well, if I must make do, then…"
He laughs and pushes me over to the bed. "And now, little snowbird–"
My com buzzes and Tier hands it over. "Hello?"
"Is Tier there, Junco?" It's Lucan.
"Yeah, he's here. You wanna talk to him?"
"Yes, put him on."
Tier takes the com and answers a bunch of yes and no questions, then says yes, sir and hands the com back to me.
"Yeah?"
"No visitors in the bedroom, Junco."
And the com goes dead.
I just stare at Tier. "Are you fucking kidding me? He sent us on a private vacation to have all the sex we wanted for weeks, and now you can't come in my room?"
Tier shrugs and makes for the door. "Orders, darlin'. I'll pick you up tomorrow at six, be in the lobby." And then he gives me a little salute and he's gone.


I go outside to smoke off my annoyance. It's actually a nice terrace and there's a porch swing off to one side near a fountain that is quite spectacular. I flop into the swing and let it move me by momentum only for a few seconds, then dip my foot down to make it keep going as I puff on my cigar.
The terrace wall is transparent so the view is uninterrupted. From this high up there's not much to see really. Just the tops of lower buildings down below. No traffic up here, and I suppose there wouldn't be. It's the president's house after all. Privacy is probably a concern.
What it does show is a pretty fair layout of the capital city proper. I can see the rows of tall buildings, like I've got a bird's eye view of a map.
I flap a little and fly upward, then settle on the roof and pivot slowly so I can look around. Aves headquarters, and by extension Lucan's quarters, is smack in the middle of everything on all sides. The city is big and spread out far enough so that the urban center is still sprawling as the torus-shaped habitat rounds out in the distance.
I don't even finish my stogie before I get the princess in the tower feeling. I go back inside and grab my com from the bed and leave the room before I get trapped.
Out in the hallway there is no one about, just the methodical hum of cleaning servos. I go back the way Tier and I came and make my way carefully down the damn stairs. They even jiggle a little as you step. In the lobby there are only a few options so I head for the piano.
I pluck out a few tunes that have stuck in my fingers for whatever reason over the years, then switch to what I always end up playing once I take a seat at the keys. Asgarth. Maybe there'll be time for an opera when I'm on Earth?
This makes me laugh out loud. Yeah, sure, Junco. Between rounding up the saviors of the avian race you can just slip into the opera. Wings and all.
I dip into the deeper notes of the opening sequence, then stop.
Why do I always play it from beginning to end? I can start wherever I want and I'm sick of the unhappy scenes. I hardly ever play long enough to get to the sweetest part of the tale. His salvation. I switch gears and begin playing the melody of the ascension and stop again.
Asgarth just isn't doing it for me tonight.
My mind goes back to the Enki and the World Order nargala and I begin the tedious recall of putting the notes from the Inanna scene onto the keyboard. It's a nice song. Of course I can't play all the notes the Ilat Nargalist sang, that was like an orchestra of instruments coming from her mouth, but I get a pretty good approximation going and before long I can almost play the whole thing. I am playing the high notes at the end that made me cry when I hear the applause behind me.
I jump a little and turn. "Shit, Lucan. You don't have to sneak up on me."
His face is bright and he looks happy. "I've been sitting here for thirty minutes, Junco. I didn't sneak up on you." He points to the piano. "You were engaged." Then he gets up and pushes me over and begins to play the song I just finished. "That's a pretty good approximation you did there, how do you do it?"
"How do you do it? I didn't know you played."
He grins but his fingers keep moving. "I don't, Junco. It's just a gift."
"Oh, programmed learning? My father wouldn't let me do that. He made me practice."
"Yes, I can see that. But your skill at finding the notes and putting them together is quite good. Why did he make you learn the hard way?"
I shake my head, but I know the answer so I say it anyway. "He always said, 'Things worth doing are also worth learning to do.'"
"He's right. No one cares that I can play this song. Because I cheat what it takes to really make it worthwhile. You, on the other hand, you just pulled it out from your memory and matched every single note with a key and then put them all together. That is something worth doing."
Yeah, I get it. "I agree."
"You will not see Tier this week, Junco. You will spend it with Ashur and the 039."
I scowl up at him. "Ashur is ignoring me, I've tried to call him a million times. He won't answer."
"I instructed him to stay away from you, but now you need to patch things up. He will be on the team for Earth. So you will spend this week with Ashur and the remaining 039."
"Well, I'm not sad about that." I smile up at him. "You're not going to get a fight out of me. I miss them."
He just points to my left hand. "Do you know why you can play with that disability and not hear the difference?"
I look down at my missing fingers. "Why?"
"Tier gifted you this when he healed you back on Earth. It's a special gift, Junco." He stops and sighs a little. "One I would have preferred he saved for something bigger, perhaps. But nonetheless, this is what he gave you."
"What did you give him?" I look at him as he raises his eyebrows, maybe deciding if he will tell me or push it off.
"Too many to list. But I am an Archer, so I have more to give away. Tier only had the one gift to give away and he gave it to you at that moment." He looks away for a second, then glances back at me. "It must have been some special moment."
I think back to the hot springs and smile up at Lucan. "It was life-changing for me, really. I don't know what he thought about it, obviously, but everything turned for me in the time leading up to the nightdog attack. My whole world just – changed. It went from being one thing to being something completely different. And he told me the story of Inanna and her trip down below. And how she had the power of making decisions so she decided not to be a victim. That was my interpretation of that sequence, anyway.
"Plus," I add, "he washed the blood out of my hair for me. It was unexpected and nice. And then when we were fighting the nightdogs, I jumped down from a cliff and killed the one that had hold of his arm with my little boot knife. So," I shrug, "I helped him out there."
"You say that like it's nothing."
"He saved my life after, so we were even anyway."
He changes the subject abruptly. "Why did your father really make you learn things the old way?"
I shake my head and huff out some air. "Look, I know what you want me to say, Lucan. But I'm not going to. Maybe he did love me in some sick, twisted way, but it doesn't matter anymore. He ruined everything."
I tap a few keys and wait to see if he answers but he doesn't. "I'm not saying I'm unhappy here, because I'm not." I look up into his blue eyes that remind me a lot of Kush. "But I would've been just as happy being Charlie's wife and raising his child. And given the chance to turn it all back and have that be my life, I'd take it."
He puts his arm around me. "If I could gift you that, Junco, I would. But I can't."
"Thanks. Things are going to turn out OK. The syrinx – I mean, Sera – said so. It's part of my payment for taking her to Earth. She promised me that I'd be 'if not happy, at the very least satisfied' when I meet my end and that's good enough for me."
We're quiet for a minute but then he grabs my elbow and I twitch a little at the sudden movement. He holds firm and stares down at me with a serious expression. "Junco, I would like you to consider the possibility that you don't understand what your father's intentions were when he did those inexcusable things to you."
I make a face at him. "Either they were inexcusable or they weren't, Lucan. Which do you think they were?"
He lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. "I have no idea, they were certainly not the best solutions, however I've never had the opportunity to meet your father, so I can't know. But let's move past the horrific way in which he handled the situation of your boyfriend. And then let's move past the barbaric abortion. And take a minute to ask why? Why would he do these things to a girl he raised with care for almost two decades?"
I look away as the chills climb up my arms. I hate that he mentions my baby. Hate it. "He wasn't that careful, Lucan. I think you've got him mixed up with someone else."
"He put a lot of effort into you. Not just as a soldier. But as a child. Why teach you that horse sport? Why teach you to play an instrument? Why give you a God? He took you to church? Every week?"
I swallow and nod as my face begins to feel hot.
"Men who want to kill their grandchildren don't do those things, Junco."
"I can't explain him, Lucan. He took me around the world to kill people, for fuck's sake."
Lucan nods. "Yes, and I've looked into every possible job. There was a pattern to it. They were all" – he stops to think – "necessary."
"I really don't want to talk about it, OK? I just want to forget it."
"Well, you will have to face your past when you go back to Earth, so it is better to be prepared. Consider the idea that your father had another motive. What kind of man was this Charlie? How long did you know him?"
I shrug. "Six months, I guess. He was a good guy, Lucan." I look up at him. "We had something nice."
"What if your father was worried about what the baby might turn out to be? Especially since he saw firsthand what was happening out at the Stag camp. You're not really human, Junco. Yes, you have parts that are biologically human, but who knows what would have happened to that baby. It might not even have survived."
I’m not really human. I say it in my mind, repeating it over and over. I’m not really human? There are no babies in my future, that’s what he’s hinting at. I swallow down the lump in my throat and look down at the piano keys, searching for a way to avoid this new revelation. "So I killed him for nothing?"
He shakes his head. "You can't change that, so just let it go. My point is not to make you feel guilty but to allow you to explore the idea that while he failed miserably by forcing you to submit to him, he might have had reasons for his actions."
I sit quietly for a second and begin to get angry. "The end justifies the means? Is that what you're telling me?"
"No. This is true for the avian. But that's not how it works on Earth. I learned my lesson with you, Junco. After the second fight when we came to get you for testimony. I had no idea you'd react that way – it's just the way it's done with us." He forces a smile and swallows.
I look away as he becomes uncomfortable.
"So, if that was his intention with you, justifying the means he used to achieve his desired result, he was wrong."
"So, why are we having this bullshit conversation then?"
"I would like to teach you a lesson in perspective, Junco."
"Really?" I laugh.
"You see, life is a challenge. It presents you with problems all the time. Big problems, little problems. In-between problems." He looks down at me to see if I'm listening.
I am.
"And you can deal with all problems in two ways. You can look at things objectively and make a decision based on logic and reason. Or you can look at things emotionally and base your decision on feelings. But no matter how you choose to deal with the it, the problem always stays the same, correct?"
I nod at him as my eyes watch his lips and his eyes.
"The problem doesn't change, only your reaction changes. So know that there are two perspectives to solving problems. And your success in dealing with problems depends on which perspective you choose to accept in the moment you make your decision."
"Which is better, logic or emotion?"
"Neither, they both have a place."
"So what's your point?"
"Why don't you burn wood infested with wheat beetles, Junco?"
I blow out some air as I remember our conversation outside of Fledge. The day he smacked me down to the ground for being unreasonable. I swallow. "Because it gives off poisonous fumes that will kill you."
"Why do some people burn the wood anyway?"
"They're freezing to death and they need to get warm."
"But they know they'll die if they stand there in front of the fire to get warm?"
"If they grew up in the RR they do."
"So they have two possible outcomes. Die or die. Which do they choose?"
"If they're logical they turn away and keep going. And if they let the fear take over they stop and burn the wood."
He smiles.
"I don't see the smile in this, Lucan. So which is better?"
"Neither. Sometimes life just isn't fair, Junco. And you have to either move on or stay. Either way can lead you places you'd rather not go or they can lead you to success. Maybe you find better wood just over a hill and get warm or maybe you burn the wood and there's hardly any beetles in it and you don't die."
"I didn't really need you to tell me this. I already know life sucks and sometimes you gotta fight for it. And that last part is just luck anyway. In most cases you won't be lucky."
"True. Most cases, but not all. So when you're down on Earth, Junco, always look at both perspectives if you have the time."
I groan loudly and look away. "What if I don't have the time?"
"Choose your heart. It knows what to do."
He pauses and I look up and meet his eyes. They are kind and I lean my head into his shoulder.
"You will spend this week learning, Junco. You have a lot to learn." And then he taps me on my shoulder and we're standing in a restaurant. A fancy-looking guy smiles at us and motions to follow him towards a private room in the back where the other Archers are waiting. I recognize most of them, but they all stand and formally introduce themselves, taking me by the elbow and doing that weird squeeze greeting.
"Junco rewrote The Lamentation of Inanna for the piano today," Lucan beams. They oooh and ahh at me and my mood improves immediately. Poor guys, they really need to get a life.

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Review

I hate that this is the last book of this series, I mean it isn't like I know if the story could continue or not but man did I love reading this series. It has quickly become one of my favorites. The story is original, unique and full of action and even romance.

This book does not disappoint with how kick ass it is just like the two book before it Clutch and Fledge. I cannot tell you how emotional I have gotten with this book. I mean every time I turned the page it seemed like something else was going on that was getting Junco in some hot water. We see many of the same characters in this book that help to round everything off. The best part is where we didn't see much of Tier in the last one, he is in this one much more. Thank goodness, Junco was able to save his life while also managing to gain a membership in the Avians. That means more action and more kicking ass, which is exactly why I love these books. I love how Junco has overcome all the shit she has had happen to her and become such a strong woman, which is awesome to see in books. I love a strong female lead and its only one reason I love these books. I love the human side that is shown in this book and wish I could see more into the human side of Junco so maybe there might be a few more books to this series. I know I am keeping some hope alive for more.

I give this book

*Disclosure Notice*
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for my personal and honest review. I was not compensated in any way. All thoughts and opinions expressed herein are my own.
About the Author
J.A. Huss

J. A. Huss never took a creative writing class in her life. Some would say it shows. Others might cut her some slack. She did however, get educated and graduated from Colorado State University with a B.S. in Equine Science. She had grand dreams of getting a Ph.D. but while she loves science, she hated academia and settled for a M.S. in Forensic Toxicology from the University of Florida.

She went on to write science curriculum for homeschoolers and now runs a successful home business that creates and offers online science unit studies. When she’s not writing science curriculum or fiction, she works as a farm inspector, traveling the Eastern Plains of Colorado in variety of environmentally friendly vehicles that never have four-wheel drive, so when she gets stuck in the mud in said vehicles, she has to beg for assistance from anyone who will help her. She is not bitter about that at all.

She’s always packing heat and she is owned by two donkeys, five dogs, more chickens and ducks than she can count, and of course, the real filthy animals, her kids. The I Am Just Junco series was born after falling in love with the ugliest part of Colorado and the Rural Republic is based on the area of the state she currently resides in, minus the mutants, of course.
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Giveaway

Thursday, December 20, 2012

{Cover Reveal} The Obvious Game by Rita Arens

Hey everyone! I have a special book to show all of you and honestly it sounds like a good one.

Drum roll please .....

The Obvious Game
by Rita Arens

Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
Release Date: Feb 7th, 2013
ISBN: 978-0-9856562-7-0 (ebook)
ISBN: 978-0-9856562-8-7 (Paperback)

Book Description

"Your shirt is yellow."
 "Your eyes are blue."
 "You have to stop running away from your problems."
 "You're too skinny."

 Fifteen-year-old Diana Keller accidentally begins teaching The Obvious Game to new kid Jesse on his sixteenth birthday. As their relationship deepens, Diana avoids Jesse's past with her own secrets -- which she'll protect at any cost.


“Everyone trusted me back then. Good old, dependable Diana. Which is why most people didn’t notice at first.”
Praise for The Obvious Game

“I couldn’t put down The Obvious Game. Arens perfectly captures the hunger, pain and uncertainty of adolescence.” -- Ann Napolitano, author of A GOOD HARD LOOK and WITHIN ARM'S REACH

"THE OBVIOUS GAME is a fearless, honest, and intense look into the psychology of anorexia. The characters—especially Diana--are so natural and emotionally authentic that you’ll find yourself yelling at the page even as you’re compelled to turn it." -- Coert Voorhees, author of LUCKY FOOLS and THE BROTHERS TORRES

"Let’s be clear about one thing: there’s nothing obvious about The Obvious Game. Arens has written a moving, sometimes heart-breaking story about one girl’s attempt to control the uncontrollable. You can’t help but relate to Diana and her struggles as you delve into this gem of a novel." -- Risa Green, author of THE SECRET SOCIETY OF THE PINK CRYSTAL BALL
Where to Buy the Book

Pre-order now at Inkspell Publishing Website at a special discount of 30% on both paperback and ebook!

To be available at all major online outlets: Amazon, B&N, The Book Depository.
About The Author
Rita Arens

Rita Arens is the author of The Obvious Game and the editor of the award-winning parenting anthology Sleep Is for the Weak. She writes the popular blog Surrender, Dorothy and lives in Kansas City with her husband and daughter. The Obvious Game is her first young adult novel. She is at work on a second.

Rita has been a featured speaker at BlogHer 2012, BEA Bloggers Conference 2012, BlogHer Writers 2011, BlogHer 2011, Blissdom 2011, Alt Summit 2010,  BlogHer 2010, BlogHer 2008 and BlogHer 2009, the 2008 Kansas City Literary Festival and 2009 Chicks Who Click and appeared on the Walt Bodine Show in 2008.

She’s been quoted by Bloomberg Businessweek, The Associated Press, Forbes Woman, the Wall Street Journal, Businessweek and Businessweek Online and featured in Breathe magazine, Get Your Biz Savvy, The Kansas City Star (archived material available on request), Today Moms (Today Show blog) and Ink KC.
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