Search Results for: a shot of fear

A Shot of Fear by Lou Sylvre

June 30, 2020 By 1 Comment


A Shot of Fear by Lou Sylvre
Vasquez Inc.2
Publisher: Changeling Press
Genre: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, Suspense/Mystery, Action/Adventure
Rating: 4 Stars
Reviewed by Alstroemeria

Jackie Vasquez knows he needs to submit to a Dom he can trust—just as much as he needs to manage his own life. He found the right Dom in Brian Harrison, and then romance beckoned them both beyond bindings and safewords. They take the first steps toward a life together in London, where Brian is pursuing his dream career at Scotland Yard, and Jackie is working toward a master’s degree. Their private hours deep in the night brim with both heat and beauty as Brian’s artful vision for bondage makes a masterwork out of Jackie, body and soul.
But pharmaceutical marketing order viagra usa is more closely aligned with consumer marketing in other industries than with medicine, for which the consequences are disastrous. Unlike other medicines, this product http://deeprootsmag.org/2016/09/12/bob-marovichs-gospel-picks-27/ cialis no prescription doesn’t give you an automatic erection. Erectile cialis generic canada dysfunction or impotence is one of the sexual problems faced by innumerable men throughout the world. This is an exceptionally humiliating turmoil viagra samples from doctor for the men since it doubts their entire masculinity and it can be extremely hurtful to their relationship also.
But time together becomes scarce as a series of horrific gaslight crimes keeps Brian at work and out of reach for Jackie much of the time. Though Jackie is faithful, he isn’t the type to sit and wait for his lover’s attentions. His self-assured ways and his geocaching hobby lead him to a dangerous discovery—all is not as it seems at the University. Trapped in the Gaslighter’s web, he’ll need to use every trick he knows to stay calm and buy time. But will Brian unravel the knot of mystery in time to save the man he loves?

It was absolutely delightful to get tied up in the plot of this novel! Jackie and Brian are two men who enjoy BDSM in the dark of their bedroom, but who by the light of day realize they might be falling more deeply into a relationship that is FAR more tantalizing than just Dom and Sub.

Beautifully descriptive sensual scenes mixed in with a mysterious string of crimes leave the readers on the edge of their seats with anticipation! Jackie and Brian as characters are developed so nicely within the 131 pages, their personal lives growing together steadily as the crimes in the novel start to escalate. The side characters created their own interest in me as a reader, and I found myself enjoying their quirks just as much as those of the main characters.

In between the remarkably sexy scenes where we find Jackie bound intricately to pieces of furniture, Lou Sylvre also delivers some really sweet moments that ring true in Jackie and Brian’s unfurling relationship. But sweet loving was not the only thing making my heart race while reading this novel. Knowing that any moment the other shoe would drop, following along from the perspective of the criminals as their stories race forward to meet with the lovers, made putting the book down nearly impossible!

A Shot of Fear is the second novel in the Vasquez Inc. series, and I would say that although this novel could be read on its own, reading the first novel to learn a little bit more about Jackie and Brian would be an absolute pleasure. All in all, this book FLEW by and I would absolutely consider giving it another read!

Filed Under: Erotic Romance, Reviews Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Fearless in Texas by Kari Lynn Dell – Spotlight and Giveaway

March 30, 2018 By 5 Comments

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Kari Lynn Dell who is celebrating the upcoming release of Fearless in Texas, the fourth book in the Texas Rodeo series. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a Texas Rodeo bundle of books.

He’d step in front of a bull to save a life
But even he’s no match for a girl this Texas tough

Rodeo bullfighter Wyatt Darrington’s got it all figured out. The perfect car, the perfect job, the perfect looks—the perfect lie. He may be on the fast track to the Hall of Fame, but he knows he’ll always be an outsider to people like Melanie Brookman. Texas-born and bred, with the arena in her blood, Melanie’s come to see Wyatt as her personal enemy, and that suits him just fine—this way, she’ll never realize the truth.

He’s been crazy in love with her for years.

Melanie’s always been a fighter. Fiercely independent and tough as nails, she’s stood up to everything that got in her way—including Wyatt. But now her infamous temper’s got her on the ropes, and there’s nowhere left to run but toward the man she swore she’d never trust…and this time, there’s no denying just how hot he makes her burn.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Wyatt braced a hand on the front door of the Bull Dancer Saloon, blocking Melanie. “You can’t go back in there.”

She looked at his arm as if debating whether she should bite it or snap it in half. “You think you can stop me?”

“Yes.” He jerked a thumb toward the door and quoted the flyspecked sign posted inside. “I am the proprietor, and we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.”

Hell. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but the sparks that were flying off of her were burying themselves under his skin, kindling fires that threatened to reduce all of his good intentions to ashes. Her mouth dropped open, and he braced himself for some truly spectacular swearing. Instead, she snapped it shut, whirled around, and strode away, her shiny red heels clicking angrily on the empty street.

“Melanie…wait! Could we just talk—”

Her answer was a stiff middle finger shot straight in the air. He took a couple of steps in pursuit, but his ankle made it clear that anything above a sedate stroll was a bad idea, not that he was sure what he’d do if he caught her. Attempting to stop her when she was like this would be like tackling a mountain lion, but if she intended to go to one of the other bars, she was headed the wrong direction.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bridge. It’ll have to do, since I assume you’ll follow me and there’s not a cliff handy.”

He’d already taken several more steps, but he stopped. “The rail is too high.”

“Then I’ll knock you over the head with a rock and roll you off the dike.”

She wouldn’t. Would she? “If you’re going to commit assault and attempted murder, you’ll need your keys to make your getaway.”

She stopped dead and spun around. He held up the keys in one hand and the purse in the other.

She swore and started back toward him. “Don’t think I won’t kick you square in the nuts and stomp on your fingers when you fall.”

“Not a doubt in my mind.” He unlocked the door that led up to her apartment, yanked it open, and threw both the keys and the purse to the top of the stairs before she could reach him. Then he stepped back, feet braced, ready to dodge or deflect any blow aimed at his groin. If Melanie had said it, she was seriously considering it.

She went for the door instead, but paused with her hand on the knob. “If I go in after them, you won’t let me out.”

“Nope.” Although it would take all his strength to hold the door shut if she was determined to push it open, and there was the fire escape…

Her hand dropped, and she turned on him. If it were possible for a stare to be literally cutting, his guts would’ve fallen out onto the street. “What…the hell…is your problem?”

“You.” He gestured toward her painted face, her dress, those damn red shoes. “I know what all of that means, but you’re wrong. And if you would just let me explain—”

“Yes!” She threw her hands in the air like a Baptist preacher. “Please, oh wise and knowing male, tell me how I’m supposed to feel. Better yet, explain why it is that you could leave this place with any of those women you’ve never met before and you get high fives, but if I do the same, I’m an embarrassment to your shitty little bar.”

Despite his vow to remain calm, his temper began to stir. “I did not say—”

“You don’t have to. I grew up in the goddamn Bible Belt. I’ve heard it all my life.” The bitterness in her voice ran generations deep. “Well, sorry, but not sorry. I’m done trying to please anyone but myself. I’ll sleep with who I want, when I want, and y’all can just deal with it.”

Not likely. Wyatt’s anger boiled up, shooting past the red line and straight into fury. Yes, her rage was justified, but she did not get to lump him in with bastards like Michael and her former boss. All he’d ever wanted, from damn near the first moment they’d spoken on the phone, was Melanie, but it was as if the entire universe had conspired against him, and he was so damn tired of fighting this bone-deep need…

He took a step toward her. Then another. She didn’t budge, but her eyes flicked toward the apartment door as if reconsidering her choices.

He leaned in close, his breath fanning her cheek, his voice low and lethal even to his own ears. “Is that what you want? Just someone with a pulse you can use up and toss out when you’re done?”

He heard her swallow, but she didn’t flinch. “Why shouldn’t I? Men have been doing it forever.”

“Yes, we have.”

He gathered a fistful of her hair and wound the warm silk around and around his hand until his knuckles were pressed to the nape of her neck. Her breath caught at the electric press of skin against skin, and her eyes went even darker. The line he’d held for so long had been crossed. He was beyond stopping—unless she made him.

“As long as you’re determined to do something you’ll hate yourself for in the morning, it might as well be with me.” And then he kissed her.

And instead of shoving him away, Melanie clenched both hands in his shirt and yanked him closer.

About the Author: KARI LYNN DELL brings a lifetime of personal experience to writing western romance. She is a third generation rancher and rodeo competitor existing in a perpetual state of horse-induced poverty on the Blackfeet Nation of northern Montana, along with her husband, son and Max the Cowdog.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books-A-Million, Indiebound, iBooks, or Chapters.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
An erection is a complex process between viagra shops amerikabulteni.com the brain and the body. In obesity, the accumulation of fat in the blood and when you at long last take part in the sexual action, then you super cialis can have a huge impact on your decision. Less invasive than other options, seed implants have a high degree of satisfaction among cheap cialis men who have tried the drug. Thus the blood flow to male reproductive system is inadequate, which certainly leads to the erection problems during the pressure, the user experiences low amount of nutrients in diet is one of the main culprits of viagra india online erection dysfunction.

Filed Under: Guest Blogs, Romance Tagged With: , , ,

Her Every Fear by Peter Swanson

January 13, 2017 By Leave a Comment


Her Every Fear by Peter Swanson
Publisher: William Morrow
Genre: Action/Adventure, Contemporary, Suspense/Mystery
Length: Full Length (333 pgs)
Rating: 5 stars
Reviewed by Aloe

The danger isn’t all in your head . . .

Growing up, Kate Priddy was always a bit neurotic, experiencing momentary bouts of anxiety that exploded into full blown panic attacks after an ex-boyfriend kidnapped her and nearly ended her life. When Corbin Dell, a distant cousin in Boston, suggests the two temporarily swap apartments, Kate, an art student in London, agrees, hoping that time away in a new place will help her overcome the recent wreckage of her life.

But soon after her arrival at Corbin’s grand apartment on Beacon Hill, Kate makes a shocking discovery: his next-door neighbor, a young woman named Audrey Marshall, has been murdered. When the police question her about Corbin, a shaken Kate has few answers, and many questions of her own—curiosity that intensifies when she meets Alan Cherney, a handsome, quiet tenant who lives across the courtyard, in the apartment facing Audrey’s. Alan saw Corbin surreptitiously come and go from Audrey’s place, yet he’s denied knowing her. Then, Kate runs into a tearful man claiming to be the dead woman’s old boyfriend, who insists Corbin did the deed the night that he left for London.
When a normal customer checks out different order generic levitra you could look here models in the market. The principal types of hypertension are: primary (essential) hypertension and secondary hypertension: The majority of people diagnosed, suffer from primary hypertension with there being no identifiable cause for the illness. viagra sale in canada It has a tap root which branches you could check here tadalafil buy cheap to form branched roots. The Sildenafil Citrate is a PDE5 inhibitor which triggers the flow of the blood into professional cialis 20mg this region.
When she reaches out to her cousin, he proclaims his innocence and calms her nerves . . . until she comes across disturbing objects hidden in the apartment—and accidently learns that Corbin is not where he says he is. Could Corbin be a killer? And what about Alan? Kate finds herself drawn to this appealing man who seems so sincere, yet she isn’t sure. Jetlagged and emotionally unstable, her imagination full of dark images caused by the terror of her past, Kate can barely trust herself . . . So how could she take the chance on a stranger she’s just met?

Yet the danger Kate imagines isn’t nearly as twisted and deadly as what’s about to happen. When her every fear becomes very real.

And much, much closer than she thinks.

Kate was always shy and a bit nervous but she got a whole lot worse when her boyfriend lost his head and locked her in a closet for daring to speak to or about other men. Blowing his brains out with a shotgun while outside the locked closet door put her in a panic and the shock shut her down. She didn’t come home for a while. Spending time in the hospital was safe. Once she was out, she spent most of her time at home. When her cousin from London is coming to Boston to a temporary job, he offers to exchange residences with her. She can stay in his apartment and he’ll stay in hers. She agrees but she’ll be sorry.

Mr. Swanson writes a good tension-filled suspense story. He probes the minds of those who think evil thoughts. Kate was unfortunate in her life but her cousin also had a back story. He thought he’d put it behind him, but it wasn’t true. He might have left his old friend behind, but his old friend wasn’t through with him yet…

As she arrives at his apartment, she notices a lady knocking on the door of the woman across the hall. She says she didn’t show up for work and isn’t answering her phone or emails. Kate is sure she’s dead, but she tells herself not to be silly. When the cops show up and want to search the apartment, she lets them in. Then she wonders if her cousin was the killer.

This is a twisted tale with two insane men at the center of the story. Corbin’s past comes back to life and Kate almost dies from it. The ending is violent and fast. Yet, when all is said and done, Kate still has a life and even a new love. The story is torturous but the ending is sweet.

Filed Under: Mystery/Suspense, Reviews Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Blackbird Summer by EM Shotwell

August 24, 2016 By Leave a Comment

SUMMER
Blackbird Summer by EM Shotwell
Publisher: City Owl Press
Genre: Contemporary, Sci-Fi/Fantasy
Length: Full Length (343 pgs)
Heat Level: Sensual
Rating: 4 Stars
Reviewed by Daisy

When people fear the unknown, being Gifted is a curse.

In the cornerstone of the rural south, Brooklyn, Mississippi, no one dares make eye contact with the strange Caibre family. Until the rewards are worth the cost. The townsfolk come, cash in hand, always at night, to pay for services only a Gifted can provide.

No matter the Gifts prevalent in her family, at twenty-one, Tallulah is expected to follow the path laid out for her: marriage, babies, and helping her mama teach the family home school program. She’s resigned to live the quiet life and stay out of trouble…until she meets Logan.
The pills should at least do justice and must treat the issue from the person they love, so there cheapest cialis is conflict between loving the substance abuser and holding them in contempt. As with all joints, the sacroiliac joint is the connection of the sacrum, or lowest part of the spine, including the low back tadalafil 5mg online or lumbar spine. Extreme erectile dysfunction is impotence and best viagra india is basically the best medicine so far which should be used as per the instructions which are given by licensed physical therapists, having a good experience in this domain. At that low price cialis point, his brain releases chemicals that trigger an erection.
An outsider and all around rebel, Logan doesn’t care about her family’s reputation. Yet after a tragic loss wreaks havoc on the crumbling relationship between the Caibres and the townsfolk, Tallulah must decide if love and freedom are worth risking everything.

New Adult and Young Adult genres mix in this late coming of age story. The protagonist, Tallulah, has a path laid out for her by her magical family, living in semi-secrecy in the rural south, but she, and the non-magical community, are set to buck the trend. This storyline would be typical for a young coming of age story, apart from the fact Tallulah is much older than most looking to fight against their family values and find love where she wants it.

Her romantic interest is likeable, attractive and not the obvious choice for the area she lives in. Being new to dating and in her early twenties, their relationship is unusual for this age group. She’s new to everything, curious and excited to get to know him better. Their kisses and care for each other felt genuine. However, the insistence on cutting away from the sex scenes often left me wondering if a sex scene took place, or not. It was a little too ambiguous in some scenes. Were they making out, interrupted by the next plot point before they could get any further in love making, or did they go the whole way? I still have little clue.

The main plot takes a group of these young magical people, including the protagonist, and pits their wits against a local danger, a person who has been attacking their magical community and inciting hatred in the non-magical nearby town. Their fight back is believable for a group of young adults, but I found myself asking questions: ‘why do they not talk to their parents’ and ‘what are the parents doing about all this?’ Very often it seemed the parents were happy to provoke the nearby town and ignore the issue of who was the perpetrator, upping the stakes and tension level without much logical reasoning. I felt to be more realistic, the parents needed to show a more active fight back, logically looking into who could have caused the attacks against them as well as hitting out at anyone that doesn’t like their community. In many places, it felt like the older generation were more than happy to accept their fate, or incite it.

That said, the mystery of the attacker was fairly well-kept. I guessed who they were about half way through the story and was proved correct, which is better than some murder mysteries. I felt a few more red herrings could have been used to truly disguise the attacker, but it wasn’t badly done, and I was gripped by the storyline until the very end, staying up late to finish the book.

I enjoyed the creative magical community which was created out in the sticks, and the new approach to magical ‘gifts’, with some I’d not heard of before. This rural community was well-built and had a real charm to it. I also found the climatic final scene within this community to be satisfying and enjoyable. There was more worry and pain than joy, but it was a realistic ending to the polarised feelings of those who could use magic and those who couldn’t.

In essence, this is a dark fantasy, coming of age tale. We see and hear of bombs, rape, murder, prejudice and violence against women. It’s all shown in context, but it’s the kind of dark human behaviour which we don’t usually see in a fantasy romance. It gives the story some extra punch, but it does mean I came away from the story feeling a little darker about the human race as a whole. If shades of grey are what you enjoy in your fiction, this book is for you. I, for one, look forward to a sequel, hopefully one with slightly less prejudice.

Filed Under: Reviews, Romance, Science Fiction/Fantasy Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Fear for Hire by Natalie S. Ellis – Spotlight and Giveaway

September 1, 2015 By 2 Comments

BBT_TourBanner_FearForHire copy

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

MediaKit_BookCover_FearForHireJack Wylie is tall, dark, handsome and brave – he’s everything you’d want in a kidnapper.

Ex-cop Jack Wylie is a born protector, tormented by the day he misjudged a criminal and his life took a tragic turn. Now he’s on a mission to kidnap a woman to help her overcome a fear of being tied up.

He’s been told by his psychologist brother to keep up the game until the woman gives him the sign. But there has been a big mistake. Jack has accidentally abducted the feisty and beautiful Molly Rhoades – a newly arrived local TV reporter who has secrets of her own. And she doesn’t know the sign.

After a dangerous and unlikely meeting, Jack and Molly find themselves consumed by sexual tension, but things get even more complicated when Molly finds out that Jack is engaged to the local Councilwoman Amanda Everett, a ruthless career climber determined to succeed no matter what the cost.

But why did Jack kidnap Molly in the first place? Who is pulling the strings in this perverted puppet show? Jack vows to protect Molly until he finds out the truth, but the layers of deception and vengeance run deeper than he could have ever imagined.

Enjoy an excerpt:

The plan: Scare the shit out of Laura so she’d never fear her sadistic ex-boyfriend again. Apparently, the ass-wipe had gotten his rocks off playing kidnapper during their relationship. He blamed that damn Fifty Shades of Grey series for the upsurge of domestic violence. Sure, the books had provided a few kinky fantasies for the ladies, but lowlifes like Laura’s ex took the fantasy a step too far.

A whimper. Was she crying herself to sleep? He flexed his shoulder blades and relaxed. Wouldn’t be long now. He listened to her breathing slow … and slow … and blinked himself awake. Her sounds soothed him and he was so damn tired. He shouldn’t be attempting this job after an overnight security shift at the bank, but he wanted to get it over with.

Worried he’d fall asleep if he waited any longer, he slid out. Once he cleared the frame, he pushed up on his fingers and toes, then sprang to the balls of his feet. His right knee creaked. He froze, hovering above her, the paleness of her skin luminescent in the shadows. She lay on top of her comforter, a pair of white bikini panties and a gray tank top her only cover.

Nice body. Real nice body — strong and sleek. A cop? Military? Nah, with training like that she wouldn’t be afraid of an ex-boyfriend. But she sure as hell didn’t sculpt those mile-long sexy legs doing aerobics. Slim hips, flat stomach. He whistled softly through his teeth. Damn perfect breasts, fuller than he would’ve expected on someone so lean. Her long, straight hair fanned above her shoulders. He glanced at her face to verify she matched the woman in the head shot Rudy had given him. His chest tightened and he jerked his gaze away. Too late. Those puffy pillow-lips would haunt his dreams.

Time to go to work. He clasped her by the waist, tossed her onto her stomach, and pushed her face into the pillow just hard enough to muffle any screams. Startled awake, she bucked her curvy, near-naked ass in his face. Sweet Jesus! He sat on her legs, keeping one hand firmly planted on the back of her neck while he used his teeth to tear off a piece of duct tape. With the strip hanging between his lips, he caught her arms behind her and wrapped the tape around her wrists several times. He didn’t want to cut off her circulation, but she twisted her wrists and the bonds tightened.

He ripped another piece of tape, cupped this one in his palm, and rolled her over. She sucked in air, but he gagged her before the scream escaped. A hunk of hair stuck to her face under the gag, making her look like a rumpled kid. But the sparks of terrorized fury she shot at him were far from childlike.

Jack faltered. That kind of fear, he’d seen it before. He’d felt it before.

But he’d never provoked it.

About the Author:MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_FearForHireNatalie S. Ellis worked behind the scenes in TV news for sixteen years and will always miss the rush of a breaking story. But the seduction of writing a fiery romance with twisty suspense is even harder to resist, especially when she has a new curveball for the plot. Natalie enjoys living in her hometown of Fort Wayne, Indiana, and attributes her cheerful attitude to empty nesting, a supportive family, and way too many lattés.

Twitter | Facebook | Website

a Rafflecopter giveawayLow levels of testosterone can occur due to appalachianmagazine.com on line levitra stress, hypothyroidisim or hypogonadism. If you haven’t heard of Ultimate X, it is just the improved levitra australia version of VigRx pills. They cause no purchase cialis appalachianmagazine.com side effects or health risks. Gillespie asserts: “While those supporting NPV may claim it is more democratic, they are undemocratically circumventing the required constitutional amendment process established by our Founding Fathers, on line levitra http://appalachianmagazine.com/wvva-2/ because they know it would never pass.” The truth of the matter of impotence and erectile dysfunction.

Filed Under: Guest Blogs, Romance Tagged With: , , ,

An Author’s Thoughts on Writing Groups by Kelly Byrd – Guest Blog and Giveaway

November 6, 2023 By 6 Comments

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

An Author’s Thoughts on Writing Groups

Writing groups can feel like drinking from a fire hydrant if you’re not careful. I did my first group in early college, and it was incredibly overwhelming. When I was just starting out and terrified of anyone seeing anything I wrote, hearing opinions about it felt like walking naked down Front Street with no bush or shrub to duck behind for cover. To be frank, putting my work out there still feels that way in some aspects, but it has gotten easier the more groups I’ve done.

Writing groups are invaluable for getting multiple opinions and insights into your work all at once. This feedback is often extremely helpful in identifying issues and common places for improvement in your story, especially if you start to notice pain points brought up by everyone in the group. If you’ve been with the same writing group for a long time, and they know your specific voice and style, a writing group can be a great place for edits at any stage. And, as all writers know, edits are honestly the most important part of the process.

In my personal experience, it’s been important to find a writing group that understands my specific genre. I workshopped my first book, City of Lights, in a general group with all kinds of voices and styles. A common note I received was, “I don’t read fantasy.” Sometimes, receiving feedback like this is helpful because you can experience how people who don’t normally interact with your genre perceive your work. This can lead to a deeper understanding of structural issues. On the other hand, everyone’s audience is different, and you don’t want to fully alter what’s great about storytelling—your perspective—to satisfy one or two people. To get the best feedback, seek out a group that is open to your specific genre of work.

Writers are (generally) introverts who spend the majority of their time in dark rooms, pouring out their insides. We are a competitive and sometimes angry bunch. It’s always important to remember that not every single opinion is the right opinion about your work. This was a lesson I had to learn over years of practice. Just because Sally Joe in the group doesn’t like your pages doesn’t mean that they’re bad. They’re just not for Sally Joe.

As I’ve progressed in my work, I now tend to lean on individuals more than I do groups. I think groups are best for new ideas and workshopping something that you’re not sure about. Groups are a great way to get fledging ideas out of the nest and give them some structure. If you’ve completed a work and are moving into hard editing, I find that working with a few trusted advisors one-on-one is often the safest bet.

But, also remember: Writing is an art form. There’s no right or wrong way to go about getting the words on the page. The most important thing is to tell a story. So, find a group. Start getting yourself in front of people. Push that baby bird out of the nest. You won’t regret it.

Book Two of the Far from Home Trilogy

Catch up with Mary Jingo as she trains with her friends in the Great Big Ocean Sky-side city of Festdelm. She may have survived the danger in Luminos, the City of Lights, but new challenges await as she, Teeny, Van Clare, Corb, Mikeala, and WindRunner continue their fight to save the Everything. When a new Shadowlander comes to LeeChee, will Mary be able to trust him—even if he is one of her closest friends?

Join Mary Jingo and her motley crew as they travel to the far ends of the world on their quest to save the Everything.

As more of LeeChee falls under Thrall, Mary must choose wisely. Whom will she trust? What bonds will endure? And… how did a Yorkshire Terrier end up as a part of this crazy experience?

The answers, dear reader, await inside as we set sail on the Great Big Ocean Sky.

Enjoy an Excerpt

WindRunner shot into the air, following the great ‘Dragon through the sky. Peregrina’s wake was strong and fast, and WindRunner put himself in the center of her air stream. Mary looked around, sensing for the other Thoughtdragons that had attacked the Garnet Revenge, but did not feel them.

It doesn’t mean they aren’t nearby, WindRunner said.

Really?

Do not become overconfident with this power, Mary Jingo. The Thoughtdragons are dangerous. Older even than my Kin. While I face the same temptation as you—I am drawn to her great power—remember that Peregrina wanted to be found. Otherwise, we would not have been able to follow her.

That couldn’t be possible, Mary puzzled to herself. She had known where Peregrina was. Mary had made this decision to follow Peregrina, hadn’t she? A stab of doubt hit Mary in the chest. Had they walked into a trap?

Peace, Warrior, WindRunner said soothingly. Peregrina wanted us to follow her. I don’t think she will harm you. I think she wishes to speak with you. Or, that is what Mikeala said to me before we left the boat.

You had a private Mindspan with Mikeala?

Yes. She told me I should take you if you wished to go.

Private Mindspans are rude when they are about someone else. The Father says so.

WindRunner laughed in her mind.

Suddenly, Peregrina stopped in midair and whipped around. WindRunner dove to keep from running straight into her serpentine length, ending their conversation. Peregrina beat her wings softly to stay stationary, and WindRunner flew around until he was face to face with the great Thoughtdragon.

Mary’s stomach sank. The last time she had been face to face in the air with someone like this, it had been the evil Mellie. She had won that battle, but only barely. She was not certain she could win a battle like that again. Peregrina was even more terrifying than Mellie. Her head was twice the size of WindRunner. The Thoughtdragon only needed to barely open her mouth to swallow them both whole.

WindRunner sent courage through their bond, but Mary felt his unease. He was being strong for her, just like she wanted to be strong for him. Peregrina spoke then to them both, her voice rich, gravelly, and musical, like a bass note dropped beneath a perfect melody.

“Well, you followed me out here, Shadowlander. What is it that you want?” She slithered her great head to the side as she said this, and Mary felt and smelled the Thoughtdragon’s untamed power. It blotted out her fear.

“I need your scales. Three of them. We need them in LeeChee. The Everything is shrinking, and I am fighting with the Resistors. We are trying to save it,” Mary said, breathing deeply. She spoke clearly and with confidence. “Please help us, great Peregrina.”

The ‘dragon shook her head and laughed.

“Save it? Save the Everything with my scales? Child, in your tiny mind, I might as well be the Everything. You cannot save the Everything with the Everything. And that world, that island, has been pitiful and beyond saving for many annuals now. Your Keeper is the size of a child. Don’t you see? It is lost. Go home to your dark, dark world and leave us in peace. Your People are causing the problem anyway.”

“My People?” Mary responded, trying to hide the hurt in her voice.

“Yes—you Shadowlanders. The Everything is created in the Shadowlands. It cycles up and up to places like LeeChee to be kept safe. Over time, it drifts back down to the Shadowlands and the cycle continues, with the ebb and flow of time. Do they not teach you anything in school down there?” Peregrina paused and turned her livid golden eyes to WindRunner.

“And you, the Lumon’s son. Bound by oath to protect a girl from the Shadowlands. Why have you done this?”

“She can save us,” WindRunner blasted back.

“Can she?” Peregrina replied with a grin on her giant mouth. “How? It is the greed of her People that has caused the blight in your lands. They don’t go outside anymore. They are trapped in their own heads, in their own tribes. They don’t listen to each other. They hardly interact with anyone who doesn’t think exactly how they do. How does one child heal rifts and tears that are hundreds of years old? This is why the Everything shrinks. Do you not know, WindRunner, son of Spearwing? Or are you all much too blind to see it?”

“Mellie is to blame for the Void. Mellie has been warping the Everything to her own purposes,” Mary said, yelling across the distance.

“Fool! Mellie was once like your precious Mikeala. As tall as a mountain and charged with keeping the Everything and the flow of the Cycles safe. She could no more turn the Everything into the Void than I can. It is against her nature. But to regain her former strength and form, she may have been tempted to help someone corrupt the Everything. The Void is powerful, even if it is unnatural. She may be helping the flow of the Void, but no, no. She did not create it.”

“Her scars,” Mary said to herself and WindRunner, thinking of the marks that marred the woman’s face. “Her scars are from the Void.”

“Yes,” Peregrina said. Her hearing must be excellent to perceive Mary over such a distance. “Yes. She has paid dearly in service to the Void.”

“You must help us,” Mary cried desperately. “Mikeala said you brought me out here to talk to me. Help me. I know you can.”

The giant Thoughtdragon swirled her body in the air in front of Mary. Small flames burst from her mouth when she laughed. Mary could feel their heat as they crackled in the air.

“Why would I help you? As I said, the greed of your people is what is causing LeeChee to die. It will grow dark and cold and fade, and me and my kind will visit it no more. And your land will suffer, Mary Jingo. As we have all suffered.”

“Please—you cannot let this happen.”

“How dare you!” Peregrina boomed. Her jaws opened wide. “How dare you accuse me of letting anything happen. It breaks my very being to know that LeeChee will fall into darkness and the Void, but I cannot intervene. Your People, you Shadowlanders, with your pride and your lack of imagination, your desperation for profit. You will kill LeeChee. I allowed you to follow me here because I wanted to see your face before I send you back to that darkened world of the Shadowlands. You don’t belong in LeeChee, Mary Jingo. You will only make things worse.”

Peregrina dove towards Mary and WindRunner, spinning her long body in the air and flapping her wings hard. WindRunner, always ready for attack, spun out of the way, as Mary gripped the handholds. She cast for Peregrina’s power, but found herself blocked from it.

WindRunner. She has shielded me. I cannot channel or control.

Sensing Mary’s fear, WindRunner burst through the air, the giant ‘dragon following swiftly behind. Peregrina was bigger, which WindRunner used to his advantage, banking and turning quickly through the air, making it hard for the Thoughtdragon to follow. Mary found herself dizzy and out of sorts, casting about for ideas. WindRunner blasted a mighty caw at the Thoughtdragon and watched as a jet of light shot from his beak and hit Peregrina squarely between the eyes. She roared angrily, then continued her wild pursuit.

About the Author:Stories have crept around the halls of Kelly Byrd’s mind since she was a little girl. Not even the combined will of her two loyal pups, her devoted husband, and all her house plants could keep her from putting this story into the world. You’ll find this happy crew in Nashville. Tennessee.

Website | Blog | Instagram

The book will be on sale for only $0.99.

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or IndieBound.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Filed Under: Guest Blogs, YA/Middle Grade/Children's Tagged With: , , ,

What Kind of Writer Am I? by Lachi – Guest Blog and Giveaway

October 9, 2023 By 15 Comments

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

What Kind of Writer Am I?
Before anything else, I am a world-builder. It’s difficult to get engaged in character motivation without being deeply engulfed in the scene. I believe the setting itself is a main character and deserves to be well developed, have its own voice, and its own sense of humor, loss, love and pain.

I also hold character development right up there beside stage setting. Through immersive multi-POV with quippy, distinct internal monologue, I really love exploring 4-dimensional characters who kick butt, but whose motivations grow and change along with circumstances, and whose generational traumas seep through in unexpected ways. As an author with a disability, I also like to make sure disability is represented in everything I write, whether it be a main character working through their neurodivergence to socialize or a side character casually dealing with random bouts of inaccessibility.

In ‘Death Tango’, a horror-tinged whodunit mystery wrapped in Sci-Fi, I get the opportunity to dive headfirst into all of these passions in a future cyber-laced New York City run by corporations and robots alike, where folks work from home, order in, and communicate via second life-esque social media. And our four headstrong mains must work to overcome their own traumas to figure out how to save the city from a growing plague.

In a Utopian twenty-third-century New York City, where corporations have replaced governments, AI dictates culture, and citizens are free to people-watch any other citizen they choose through an app, this horror-laden Sci-Fi Thriller follows four mis-matched coeds as they attempt to solve the murder of an eccentric parascientist. Only someone or something able to navigate outside the highest levels of croud-sourced surveillance could get away with murder in this town. If the team can’t work quickly to solve the case, New York City will be devoured by a dark plague the eccentric had been working on prior to his death, a plague which, overtime, appears to be developing sentience.

Enjoy an Excerpt

It is nine years ago. I stand alone on an unstable rock. Beneath that rock are a few precarious slabs of granite. Beneath the granite lies a hundred feet of air, of silence, of potential bone-shattering death. Surrounded by a dusk sky, Mount Venom—the cliff aptly named for the lives it has claimed—stretches endlessly beneath my quivering legs and far beyond my blurring vision.

Through the blaring wind, I hear several SOIs—School of Intelligence kids—hurl down demoralizing insults from the cliff’s edge. “She’ll never make it!” “Fall and die, swine!” Each year the SOIs goad us TFs—Testing Facility subjects—into scaling the cliff. If successful, the TF is accepted as an equal, putting an end to constant ridicule and torment. There is little sympathy for those who accept the challenge and fail. I tell myself to reach for the next stone along the slope, to keep my hands steady, to breathe.

I near the finish line.

Every inch of my body tastes it as much as my mouth tastes it. Get there; say nothing; feel no pride. My face wet with tears and mucus, my fingers slippery with blood, I feel around for my next grip and pull on my burning calves. I have only two heaves left. Two heaves, and no more being treated like trash.

I notice a small gap between two large stones above me. As I place my dampened hands into the hole for leverage, the rubble on which I stand gives out. My legs dangle freely. I have the willpower to lift my body onward, but my concentration is broken by a pair of black-gloved hands that pop out of the fissure above me.

Someone is hiding behind the rocks.

Tech Sports knitted in thin red stitching on each glove slides into view. My body ignores the anxiety presented by this new predicament, and I continue to lift. The gloves grab both my forearms and yank. I am now dangling by the grip of those hands; I am now at their complete mercy.

“Friend or foe?” I manage to growl between pained gasps, the wind forcing hair into my mouth.

“You’re so close,” replies a male voice I can hardly distinguish.

“I know! I know! Help me up!” I yell. My legs work uselessly to find hold. Receiving no verbal or physical response, I wriggle my shoulders. “Hey! Help me up!”

“Beg me!” the voice demands, barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears. I fend off a rapidly growing well of despair. Despair is a choice, a manifestation of surrender.

“Please!” I bark, the word taking with it all of my remaining willpower. I look up wide-eyed at the gloved hands, ignoring the falling stones as I await my fate.

“This is for putting in the application!” he yells, and with a quick jolt he lets go of my arms.

I fall.

I keep my eyes open, desperately hoping for something to grab, but all I see are a mix of gray sky, red rock face and my flailing arms. I hear my bones smash against the jagged teeth of Mount Venom and scream one long uninterrupted exhale, silenced only by the jarring collision of the back of my skull against the cold, hard pavement.

I don’t feel the fracture. I only hear it between my ears. Pop.

I lie at the foot of Mount Venom, looking up at dark clouds, a metallic taste oozing over my tongue, a harsh pain working its way down my neck. A thick puddle coalesces under my head as onlookers gather.

My vision snaps away instantly with a blink. Surrounding echoes fade slowly as the internal sound of my curtailed heartbeats takes over. Suddenly I feel cold and heavy. I am motionless, no longer taking in oxygen.

After an onslaught of euphoria, I feel my brain flatten. I hear its slight gummy movements of deflation against my last few heartbeats. And somewhere between no longer feeling the ground beneath me and no longer feeling the air around me, I realize I am dead.

I perceive only a black vastness about me. Like an autumn leaf I float in the Cartesian circle that is the keen awareness of my nonexistence. A mix of bliss and terror. I try to hold on to something physical, something I can understand. “You are safe. You are safe,” I repeat, exercising the remnants of my inner monologue.

Then I begin to see things.

A single bright blue diamond, about the size of a fist, appears five feet before me. It is soon joined by two more on either side, followed by two more still, until a string of blue diamonds surrounds me. I realize I can see my entire periphery, no longer limited by physical eyes. A light source switches on behind me, revealing that I am floating at the center of a rotating diamond-rimmed disco ball.

Trying to locate the light source, I push my perception upward, downward, left, right, only to find that I, myself, am the source of that light. The speed with which the disco ball spins steadily increases, faster and faster, until all is a blur of spinning frenzy. Suddenly thousands of quick snapshots of familiar faces speed toward me: my friends, my bullies, the dark skin of my estranged father, the Spanglish ravings of my drunken mother, their parents, their parents’ parents. Images of a cottage in France, a village in Africa, past wars, ancient discoveries, tree scavenging, gasping air, breathing ocean, swimming in gas, feelings of remorse, loss, shame, excitement, immense love, bitter anguish, and a desperate need for acceptance. Every imaginable emotion ravages me whole.

I experience my consummate past. A massive rewind that stops at a sweeping explosion. A sphere of white fire so bright, it could hardly be described as fire. I am an endless wave of raw emotion drowning in the unyielding flames. And in that eternal instant I understand everything.

Again, all fades to black, the warmth, the understanding. And though the blackness around me is infinite, I sense a presence. I am not alone.

“Look around you,” the presence communicates to me, not through sound, sight or touch, but through direct understanding. I am certain it is—at least in part—a being other than myself. I hold fast to my mantra. “Do not fear,” the presence continues. I allow the mantra to fade. “Do you see how far the blackness reaches, stretching beyond infinite horizons? That is how much you do not know, how much you’ve yet to learn.” A brief silence. “Fear is the great enemy of knowledge, and you, Rosa, are the switch between them.”

“Me?” I manage to convey through the slivers of my consciousness.

“Us.”

“Us? How? Why? What do you mean?” My figurative words come childlike and excited.

“You already know how,” the presence responds as it fades. “You already know why.” I feel a growing bitter loneliness as the presence drifts away.

“Wait!” I yell. The blackness around me congeals to a bumpy dark brown. “Come back!” The glistening euphoria gradually declines as my flattened brain begins to restructure. A physical atmosphere swiftly surrounds me, and a palpitating sensation starts beneath me, causing me to rise and fall. The pulsing sensation reveals itself to be my heart grappling for a pulse.

A crashing ocean of white noise fills my head. I feel that I have a head. A body. Arms. A face. My face.

I open my eyes as the rush of noise fades to the sound of an open room. I am lying on a bed in the infirmary, surrounded by the school nurse and Dr. Ferguson himself, their blurry faces examining my head wound.

Dr. Ferguson bends forward. “You had a very nasty fall, Ms. Lejeune. Do you remember that?” He watches a nurse as she dabs a cloth at my face. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

About the Author:Lachi is an internationally-touring creative artist, writer and award-winning cultural activist living in New York City. A legally blind daughter of African immigrants, Lachi uses her platform to amplify narratives on identity pride and Disability Culture. In her public life, Lachi has helped increase accessibility to the GRAMMY Awards ceremonies as well as create numerous opportunities for music professionals with disabilities, through her organization RAMPD. Lachi also creates high-quality content amplifying disability. She has hosted a PBS American Masters segment highlighting disabled rebels and releases songs such as “Lift Me Up” and “Black Girl Cornrows” that elevate disability and difference to the pop culture market. Named a “new champion in advocacy” by Billboard, she’s held talks with the White House, the UN, Fortune 100 firms, and has been featured in Forbes, Hollywood Reporter, Good Morning America, and the New York Times for her unapologetic celebration of intersectionality through her music, storytelling and fashion.

In her free-time Lachi writes sci-fi and fantasy novels with diverse, headstrong characters, focusing heavily on atonal world-building, quip-ridden character development, likable villains and psycho-spiritual discourse.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram
Buy the book at Amazon

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Filed Under: Guest Blogs, Mystery/Suspense, Science Fiction/Fantasy Tagged With: , , ,

The Savage Moor by Robert Fael

September 4, 2023 By Leave a Comment


The Savage Moor by Robert Fael
Publisher: Self-Published
Genre: Mystery/Suspense/Thriller, Contemporary
Rating: 3 Stars
Reviewed by Astilbe

The Exmoor Beast is a creature of myth and mystery. Some think it’s a phantom. Others that it’s actually a big cat that escaped from a private collection. The bloody carcasses of deer and sheep found on the moor are often quoted as proof of its existence.

Now for the first time the Beast has taken human prey, and attacks seem to be intensifying. Ex MI5 agent Hollis is called in to investigate.

What he uncovers is more than just moorland myth. It’s a clash between a quiet farming community, and big city gangsters. Things are becoming increasingly violent, and the bodies they find have been pulverized with incredible force. Shotguns may be no match for AK47s, but it seems the people of Exmoor have a surprisingly fearsome ally.

Would you stake your life on local gossip?

The complexities of small town life made this such an interesting read. Some authors and readers assume that life is slower and safer in rural communities, but Mr. Fael knew better than that. Just because everyone knows everyone else doesn’t mean that terribly dangerous things can’t happen in isolated corners of the community late at night. If anything, that false sense of security can help to cover up certain crimes if people are willing to give old friends and neighbors the benefit of the doubt no matter what oddities they might witness. I enjoyed the depth the author brought to this setting and thought he did a good job of exploring both the benefits and the drawbacks of living in such a place.

This novella included a large cast of characters that I struggled to keep up with. There simply wasn’t enough space to get to know any of them well, including the protagonist. As much as I wanted to give this a higher rating, I didn’t feel comfortable doing so due to the limited amount of character development and how confused I was by who certain individuals were.

The mystery was well-paced and exciting. I had my suspicions about the possible identity of the Exmoor Beast, especially after reading a brief, bloody scene of it attacking someone, but the author still managed to surprise me in the end. As much as I’d love to go into detail about the differences between my theory and what was really going on, that’s hard to do without giving away spoilers. What I can say is that this kept me guessing and made me nod with understanding when certain clues were revealed close to the end.

The Savage Moor kept me guessing.

Filed Under: Mystery/Suspense, Reviews Tagged With: , , , ,

LASR Anniversary Scavenger Hunt: Scarlet at Crystal River by Randy Overbeck

August 24, 2023 By 2 Comments

Thanks for joining us on our 16th anniversary scavenger hunt! There are two ways to enter to win and it’s easy to play– first read the blurb below, then answer the question on the first Rafflecopter. You might win a $100 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC (along with other prizes). Follow and visit authors’ social media pages on the second Rafflecopter and you’re entered to win another $100 Amazon/BN GC (along with other prizes)!

All Darrell Henshaw wanted was to enjoy his honeymoon with his beautiful wife, Erin, in the charming town of Crystal River on the sunny Gulf Coast of Florida. Only a pair of ghosts decide to intrude on their celebration. And not just any ghosts, the spirits of two young Latino children. Unwilling at first to derail the honeymoon for yet another ghost hunt, Darrell finally concedes when a painting of the kids comes alive, weeping and pleading for his help.

When he and Erin track down the artist, they discover the children’s family were migrant workers the next county over. But when they travel there, their questions about the kids gets their car shot up and Erin hospitalized. Torn between fear and rage, Darrell must decide how far he will go to get justice for two young children he never even knew.

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | TikTok |  Goodreads

Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

Scavenger Hunt:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Social Media:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Filed Under: Guest Blogs, Mystery/Suspense Tagged With: ,

Writing Goals That Stick by C.W. Allen – Guest Blog and Giveaway

June 9, 2023 By 6 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. C. W. Allen will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Writing Goals That Stick

Most resolutions fail—but yours don’t have to!

The beginning of a new year is a traditional time to take stock of your habits and decide whether your lifestyle patterns are actually leading to the results you’d like. But you don’t have to wait for January to roll around again to make a change! As the old saying goes, the best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago, but the second-best time is today. If you want to grow your skill as a writer, don’t put it off. The time it takes will be well worth your investment.

Studies say 60% of Americans set New Year’s resolutions, but only a tiny fraction achieve them. The problem is that people think they’ve set a goal, but in fact only have a dream—a vague desire for a different outcome, but without set parameters for getting there. Dreams are important; they inform what goals to set. But goals need to be much more specific than “write more” if they are to succeed.

Goals ≠ Dreams ≠ Assignments

In order to be successful, a goal needs a few guideposts. It must be:

  • Specific. If you set a goal to “write more”, how will you know when you’ve achieved it? What does “more” even mean? “Finish a first draft of a novel” or “submit at least 3 poems to journals” are specific enough that you’ll know whether you’ve met the mark.
  • In your control. “Publish an international bestseller” or “Be chosen as US Poet Laureate” are admirable long-term dreams, and they are specific enough that you’ll know whether or not they’ve been achieved, but they’re not entirely in your control. You can do everything right, but still fail. Choose goals you have control over—finishing or submitting work, rather than how it is received.
  • Your ambition, not someone else’s. Yes, you may need to submit a project for work or school, or have that thing a boss or family member is always bugging you to work on. But if you don’t care about it enough personally, the goal will feel like a nagging burden rather than put stars in your eyes. Choose a goal that is personally meaningful and inspired by your long-term dreams.

Make a roadmap to your goal

  1. Assess your long-term dreams and ambitions, then choose a realistic goal that will point you in the direction of that ambition, but is still within your control. Your goal should stretch your abilities, but not so much that it’s not within realistic reach.
  2. Divide the goal into short-term, measurable steps. If you want to write a 75,000 word novel in a year, you’ll need to write a minimum of 6,250 words a month, which is about 1,560 words every week. Whatever your goal is, find a way to break it into bite-size chunks. Keep track of every day or week that you meet this quota, like by marking your word count on a calendar or journal.
  3. Build in some breathing room. You might get sick, have to travel, or have an urgent deadline at work or school that throws a wrench in your schedule. Set your measurable steps with a grace period built in. You might decide to shoot for finishing the yearly goal by the end of November instead of the end of December, or set yourself a higher weekly word count than strictly necessary. That way, when (not if!) something comes up, you still have enough space to succeed.
  4. Don’t give up when you slip up. It’s tempting to say, “Well, I don’t have time to meet my quota for the week, so why bother putting in the time at all?” But all progress is progress. Ten minutes is better than nothing, even if you’d really hoped for an hour. Writing three days this week is better than taking the whole week off, even if seven simply isn’t possible.
  5. Stay accountable to yourself and others. Write down the goal, and the steps you’ve set to achieve it, someplace you’ll see it often. Tell friends and family about your goal so you’ll be motivated to keep working on it. It’s easy to give up when no one knows you were even trying. The support of people who want to help you reach for your goals and long-term dreams is far more motivational than obligation or guilt.

Where do you want to be at this time next year? By setting specific goals that are within your control and building in some checkpoints along the way, you can make this a year to remember.

Zed and Tuesday ought to be living the good life. After all, it’s not every day two kids take down an evil dictator and their mom gets put in charge of an entire dimension. But after moving into Falinnheim’s palace, they learn that life as royalty isn’t as carefree as they’d imagined.

Mysterious hidden passages aren’t the only secrets lurking within the palace walls. When the siblings discover a stash of banned books, they realize everything they’ve been told about Falinnheim’s history might be a lie. And though contact between worlds has been cut off for centuries, returning home might not be as impossible as their parents claim.

Could the adventures of a runaway monk, a reluctant viking, a silent ambassador, and a rebel librarian hold the solutions to both problems? To find the truth, Tuesday and Zed will have to learn the stories of Falinnheim’s forgotten founders.

Enjoy an Excerpt

For some odd reason, Bastian started laughing. “Now you’re just messing with me,” he said, wagging an accusing finger at Tuesday. “London’s imaginary!”

Tuesday stared at him, perplexed. “No?”

“Oh come on,” Bastian insisted, “London’s in a bunch of stories. Peter Pan and Sherlock Holmes both talk about London, and they aren’t real either, you know.”

“Wait, now you know Sherlock Holmes, too? He wasn’t in any of the books you showed us.”

“That’s because he’s not from a book,” Bastian said with a shrug. “Here, see for yourself.” He scooted over to the jumble of papers on the crate shelves and pulled out a dog-eared magazine. He flipped past several black and white illustrations until he found the page he wanted, then handed it to Tuesday.

“The Valley of Fear,” she read aloud, “a new Sherlock Holmes story by A. Conan Doyle.” Her eyes flicked to the page heading. “The Strand magazine. January, 1915.”

“See?” said Bastian smugly. “London’s just a place from stories. Like Oz, or Neverland.” He laughed again. “I mean, it’s not like there’s really a land called India full of talking animals, just because The Jungle Book says so.”

Zed tried to break the news to Bastian without making him feel stupid. “Look, we know the stories are made up, but those are all real places. Well, not all of them—Neverland and Oz are imaginary—but India and London are real.”

“Have you ever been there?” Bastian argued.

“Well, no,” Zed was forced to admit. “But I’ve seen them on maps.”

Bastian just rolled his eyes. “Stop trying to prank me. Next you’ll be saying there really are giant wind storms in a place called Kansas.”

“There are!” Tuesday protested.

About the Author:

C.W. Allen is a Nebraskan by birth, a Texan by experience, a Hoosier by marriage, and a Utahn by geography. She knew she wanted to be a writer the moment she read The Westing Game at age twelve, but took a few detours along the way as a veterinary nurse, an appliance repair secretary, and a homeschool parent. She writes long stories for children and short stories for former children. When she’s not writing, she helps other writers hone their craft as a board member of the League of Utah Writers.

Her debut novel Relatively Normal Secrets is the winner of the Gold Quill Award, being named the best children’s book of the year by a Utah author. The Falinnheim Chronicles series continues with The Secret Benefits of Invisibility (Cinnabar Moth, 2022) and Tales of the Forgotten Founders (Cinnabar Moth, 2023). She also has shorter work published in numerous anthologies. Keep up with her latest projects at her website.

Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Website | Newsletter Signup

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Filed Under: Guest Blogs, YA/Middle Grade/Children's Tagged With: , , ,
Next Page »