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Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Fat Girl Begone! by D.E. Haggerty













Fat
Girl Begone!
D.E.
Haggerty

Genre: Romantic Comedy,
Contemporary Romance

Published: May 1, 2017

Word count: 70,000

Book Description:

I’m a total mess. My boyfriend dumped me – get this – because I diet too much. Not because I’m fat, mind you. Of course, this spurs me into the diet-fitness-revenge-plan of the century, which leads me to the gym and a scorching hot personal trainer. I even manage to make some cool new friends, including a millionaire if you can believe it.

Things are looking up! Naturally, that’s the moment my ex decides he wants me back, the personal trainer asks me out, and my millionaire male buddy decides to throw his hat in the ring. But that’s not enough drama. No, not for me. Because I’ve also lost my job and decided to start my own business.

Just call me Ms. Drama.

Warning: Bad language, bumpy roads, and embarrassing moments ahead. But there’s also more than a bit of romance and even, if we’re lucky, love. Fingers crossed.



Not endorsed by or affiliated with any brand of tequila.



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Excerpt:
“You should totally jump that,
chica.”
It’s Monday, and I’ve just
survived another Zumba class. I only hit Tara once. Okay, twice, but who’s
counting? I’m still trying to catch my breath and stop my heart from jumping
out of my ribcage. None of which stops me from panting after my personal
trainer. Before I get a chance to respond to her comment or tear my eyes away
from Gabe’s epic ass, the rest of the gang joins Tara and me.
“What are you bitches yapping
about?” Oh great, Charise didn’t just say that at maximum volume or anything.
“Everly taking her personal
trainer for a ride.”
Oh my god. Please tell me no one
else heard Tara announce that I’m lusting after Gabe. I hear giggles and
murmurs of agreement from the other exercisers exiting the group exercise room.
Of course, everyone heard. Charise, Tara, Naomi, and Jessie have one volume –
embarrassingly loud.
I ignore them and head to the
locker rooms with my head down. Of course, I can’t help but sneak another
glance at Gabe. He’s doing squats for God’s sake! I defy any woman – or man for
that matter – to not look. I keep my eyes glued to those glutes as I walk in
the opposite direction. My foot hits something and before I know it I’m going
down.
I end up sprawled on the floor of
the gym. I look down at my outfit and sigh in relief. Good. No rolls of fat are
showing. Thankfully, I had put a long sweatshirt on over the loose tank I was
wearing during class. A hand appears in front of my face.
“Let me help you up, babe.”
I look up to see yet another
example of male perfection. Does this gym have a portal to Mount Olympus for
the Greek Gods to come and go as they please? Because damn. This is one fine
specimen of manhood in front of me.
“Babe?”
His voice startles me out of my
perusal of his perfection. I reach out and he grabs my hand to pull me up. Only
he doesn’t stop there. He pulls me flush to his body and then leans down to
whisper in my ear. “It’s okay, babe. Happens all the time when girls look at
me.” And crash. There goes my adulation of the man. I knew there was a reason
no one believes in the Greek Gods anymore. Vanity is not attractive. 
I pull on my hand until he
releases me. “Thanks.”
“You okay, sweetheart?” As if I
couldn’t be embarrassed enough, now Gabe’s here.
“I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying
attention to where I was walking.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see the
former Greek God puff out his chest as if I had paid him a compliment. I can’t
help it. My eyes narrow at him, and I attempt to engage my eye lasers. Just
like the two gazillion other times I’ve tried to use those lasers, they
malfunction.
Gabe ignores the entire episode.
“You here to do your exercise class?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I just
put on some workout clothes and then ducked my head under the faucet to get my
face and hair wet.”
My personal trainer laughs and
grabs my shoulder to give it a squeeze. Why is he squeezing my shoulder?
“You’re funny, sweetheart.” I wasn’t going for funny but whatever.
Someone shouts ‘Gabe’ from the
other side of the gym. I look over to see the blond bimbo he was training
staring daggers at me. Gabe squeezes my shoulder again. “Sorry, sweetheart, I
need to get back to work. I’ll see you Wednesday, right?” I nod, and he winks
before walking off.
“Looks like I’m not needed here.”
I forgot Mr. Vanity was still standing here. I don’t bother responding to his
obvious pout. I shake my head and walk to the locker rooms.


About
the Author:

I grew-up reading everything I
could get my grubby hands on from my mom's Harlequin romances to Nancy Drew to
Little Women. When I wasn't flipping pages in a library book, I was penning
horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories
which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came
along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion
I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts,
and cold weather gear.

After surviving the army
experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and
joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even
begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just
plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly
hid in the attic after returning to the law. But being a lawyer really wasn’t
my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a BandB.

Turns out being a BandB owner
wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic
before deciding to follow the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the
whole writer-thing a go.

But ten years was too many to
stay away from adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where I’m
currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next
book.

Fat girl Begone! is my eleventh
book.








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Monday, May 22, 2017

Book Blast for Debra Holt Books



Debra Holt Books
by Debra Holt

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GENRE: Contemporary Romance

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:


Mercy’s Rescue


Fighting for his life after an ambush, Sheriff Josh Wellman awakes to find himself looking into the eyes of a real-life angel of mercy. Despite his groggy condition, he knows his life has changed the instant their hands touch. Devastating heartbreak has left Mercy Smith's faith in tatters, her heart guarded against more loss. Her dedication to the air evac trauma team she leads has insulated her from the realities of the earth below, so now Josh faces the biggest challenge of his life. Can he find a way around the walls that fortify her heart and convince this angel to stay on the ground with him? Can Mercy open herself to life again and find a way to restore her faith in God ... as well as love?


Love Beneath the Blue Texas Sky


J.D. Sterling shook the dirt of the small Texas town from his boot heels a dozen years before. Now, he’s returned… not as the poor country boy who left to follow his dream, but as country music’s sexy superstar. He has everything he always wanted except for the girl who holds his heart. Mandy.


Years come and go and people change. Amanda Lawson has grown up. From heartbreak and struggling to survive to becoming a successful businesswoman, she has taught herself to never look back. Once before, she had survived the wild, green-eyed cowboy with only a guitar to his name and a pocketful of dreams. Then he left her behind with nothing but his hollow vows and a shattered heart.


Mandy was his muse. J.D. was her dream. But tragedy and broken vows can be insurmountable obstacles. Can they find their way home to each other again… or is it too late?




His Country Bride


"Sheriff's Department! Raise your hands above your head and don't move."


She’s a runaway bride who left her two-timing fiance at the altar. He’s a county sheriff determined to keep the peace in his country and leave city girls alone after his own fiance left him for the bright lights of the city. Neither of them planned on running straight into each other...over a burning wedding dress.


Ellie and Lucas planned on never trusting their hearts to love again. When danger follows her from the city, the sheriff must do his duty to protect her. However, it isn’t long before he discovers the real danger may be to his heart. Ellie just might teach him that even a city girl can be a country girl at heart.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Excerpt Two:

Love Beneath the Blue Texas Sky

Fingers stilled on the guitar as the last words died away and silence fell around them. Rays from the sunset cast a protective golden net over their small world as they sat on the hilltop for the hundredth…and the last. “It’s perfect. It’s the best song you’ve ever written.” J.D. Sterling heard the conviction in Mandy’s voice and saw the clear strength of assurance levelled on him from those incredible eyes. Eyes that had no trouble capturing his heart from the moment they met and made him strong enough to follow his dream…for the both of them.

You’ve got me, Mandy…forever. I give my word I’ll be back here before you know it. I’ll do my best to call as often as I can. You just make sure you don’t go forgetting me when I’m gone.” His attempt at levity was lost in the quick reaction she had to his words, jerking away from the protection of his shoulder, her eyes large in her pale face as they fixed on him. “That isn’t something to tease about. You know I love you and always will.”

Clearing his throat, his eyes sought the distant hills and then fell once more on the ranch buildings far below them in the valley. “The lights are going on in that house below us. They’re settling in for the evening, dinner is going on the table. All is peaceful with the world. And that will be us down there one day…just you wait and see. I’ll come back here and buy this valley for you..the whole town if you want it. You just have to say the word.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Born and raised in the Lone Star state of Texas, Debra grew up among horses, cowboys, wide open spaces, and real Texas Rangers. Pride in her state and ancestry knows no bounds and it is these heroes and heroines she loves to write about the most. She also draws upon a variety of life experiences including working with abused children, caring for baby animals at a major zoo, and planning high-end weddings (ah, romance!).
When she isn’t busy writing about tall Texans and feisty heroines, she can be found cheering on her Texas Tech Red Raiders, or heading off on another cruise adventure. She read her first romance...Janet Dailey's Fiesta San Antonio, over thirty years ago and became hooked on the genre. Writing contemporary romances, is both her passion and dream come true, and she hopes her books will bring smiles...and sighs...to all who believe in happily-ever-after’s.
Debra invites you to visit her website at www.debraholtbooks.com. She loves to hear from other aspiring authors or readers via email at debraholtbooks@gmail.com. 





~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GIVEAWAY INFORMATION 

Ms. Holt will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.






Romance Rockstars Giveaway Blitz







RomanceRockStars.com is hosting this giveaway. Winners must be 18 or older. United States and Canada only to ship the Kindle Fire. Otherwise, we can send the money for the kindle fire by amazon giftcard anywhere in the world. We will not sell or distribute your email address or any other information to any other company. Your information is for our blog only, to notify winners, and send prizes.





Grand Prize is a Fire Tablet with Alexa, 7" Display, 16 GB + 3 ebooks  and a second winner will receive a $10 Amazon Giftcard.


Backhand by Elise Faber


For A Little While by Mary J. Williams


Freeze Frame by Freya Barker



Contact Links

Donovan by Jillian Quinn blitz


Donovan
Jillian Quinn
(Face-Off Series, #3)
Publication date: May 24th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

As the starting goaltender for the Philadelphia Flyers, Carter Donovan has the toughest position on the team. He’s hot as puck, a caveman in bed, and a beast on the ice. But after another season of missing the playoffs, Carter is taking the off-season harder than normal.

Just when Carter needs a change of luck, his teammate sets him up with Sydney Carroway, a famous romance author who likes to play games of her own. And after a blind date gone wrong, the dark-haired beauty has him wrapped around her finger. Sydney tortures Carter with her dirty words and pictures, thrives off the steamy conversations that give him a never-ending case of blue balls. Carter knows it. But he can’t get enough.

It might be Carter’s job to protect the net when he’s on the ice, but when it comes to Sydney, he needs more than a killer glove save to defend his heart.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Carter Donovan has no idea I am messing with him. I bet he thinks I’m an evil witch, toying with his dick along with his emotions. Maybe I am, or at least to some extent, but damn him for shaving his beard. I’m still pissed about that. When I walked into Tyler Kane’s house last weekend, he was dressed in gym clothes and had only a tiny bit of facial hair. I was disappointed, to say the least.

I was hoping to kick things off with his face shoved between my legs and that stubble rubbing against my skin. Over the past two days, Carter has called non-stop. He even sent flowers and gifts to my apartment. To be honest, I was shocked to receive such lavish presents from him. The Chanel sunglasses were a bit overboard, but at least I know he has good taste. And that’s an important quality in a man who I am considering dating.

Flipping through a magazine on my couch, I wait for Carter to knock on the door. He’s twenty minutes early again, same as last time. I didn’t even have a chance to hop in the shower before he said he was almost here.

Part of me wants to take him into my bedroom and have my way with him. The other part of me, the side that likes experimenting with the opposite sex for research purposes, tells me I should make him wait a little while longer. After all, our relationship could make for good writing material for my next book.

As the author of all things smutty and over-the-top, I draw a lot of my inspiration from experiences. Carter just doesn’t know that yet. Poor guy. Kennedy and I did the same thing with Tyler Kane when they had first met. He fell for that shit hook, line, and sinker. Now, the two of them are living together and practically married. There’s a method to my madness.

I fix my dark curls in the mirror on the wall next to the door and double check my makeup before opening it. Drool just about runs down my chin as I take in the sight of Carter. He’s one sexy hunk of man candy. With those big, strong arms that are more suited for boxing than hockey, I want him to grip me up in them and do bad things to me.

Carter smiles so wide it reaches up to his soulful brown eyes. “Hey, baby.”

“Don’t hey, baby, me,” I shoot back, feigning interest. But this is all part of the game.

He leans in to kiss my cheek, because I promised him one kiss, his fingers grazing my bare shoulder as he touches me, fiddling with the strap of my tank top. “You look beautiful, as always, Sydney.”

My willpower almost crumbles with his lips sending shockwaves down my spine. His big hand is dangerously close to my breast as he slides it the rest of the way down my arm. If he were a character in one of my books, I would say the hell with self-control and throw myself at him, allow myself to become consumed in his manly scent and intoxicating sex appeal.

“Thanks, big guy.” I tug on his forearm in an attempt to pull him into the apartment. He’s so big I can hardly move him an inch.

After Carter shuts the door, he surprises me by shoving me up against the wall. I do my best to get away from him, but he makes it difficult with his size. Carter is used to defending the net when he’s on the ice. He sure as hell proves that right now as he blocks my entire view of the living room with his body.

Bending down to my height, he breathes against my neck and ignites a fire beneath my skin. Heat rushes from my cheeks to my toes as he presses his lips to my neck. I move my head to the side to give him better access, my inhibitions lowering along with my guard. The walls I have built up to protect myself come crumbling down in an instant.



Author Bio:

Jillian loves Mafia men, sports, bad boys, dirty talkers, strong female characters, and books with plenty of heat, all of which you will find in her books. As a lover of all things bookish, she has a serious book hoarding problem and runs a book blog in her free time. When she's not reading, writing, or blogging, she's obsessively fangirling over hockey players and can be found wherever she can catch the next hockey game.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter


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When the Sky Falls Blitz


Thriller / Espionage / Conspiracy / Historical
Date Published: March 24, 2017

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

“What makes you believe a lie? I’m not asking how you know someone is lying. What makes you believe? Because if you don’t understand how that works, then you won’t know when you’re being manipulated.”

In 1938 the War of the Worlds hoax panicked millions of Americans, then in 1988 another fictional media broadcast convinced nearly half of Portugal that sea monsters had risen from the ocean to destroy their cities. A team of CIA agents was sent to study the aftermath of this 6th Skyfall Event in the hope that they could turn it into a weapon of war. When the team consultant turns up dead, everyone scrambles to be the last man standing: the one who will decide if or when the sky falls.





Excerpt

 “What makes you believe a lie? I’m not asking how you know someone is lying. What makes you believe? Because if you don’t understand how that works, then you won’t know when you’re being manipulated.”

William Stephenson, The Nature of Sky Fall Events


Porto, Portugal. October 30, 1988. 8:13 p.m.

            The lights flickered and went dark, that’s when it started. Luis reached up and adjusted the bulb with his fingers. The hot glass burned his skin. He gritted his teeth as the sensation grew stronger. He doubted the bulb was the problem. The TV, fan and even the street light outside the apartment all died in the same moment. “Is this normal for an earthquake?”

            Car headlights flashed through the windows reflecting off Renata’s long, dark hair. “It’s not an earthquake. They already said that.”

            Luis let go of the bulb. Only a moment ago, the emergency broadcast system had come on the air. It’s strobing red light, and high pitched siren blared through every apartment. It was followed by men in lab coats being interviewed. They warned everyone that something was coming, and before they could finish the power cut out, the one thing they had said was, “it’s not an earthquake.”

            The street outside the window was still lightless, and Luis went to check the fuse box. It wouldn’t do much good. If the entire neighborhood lost power, it clearly wasn’t a fuse, but at least it was something to do.

            Renata took his hand. Her fingers trembled. “It’s not the fuses; it’s not our lights. Let it go.” Behind her, the old cement walls were spidered with cracks. They had been like that when they moved in.

“I don’t know what else to do.” He pressed his lips together and looked out the window. Outside, a family loaded into a car; the trunk overflowed as the father kicked at it until the latch held. They piled in, each with a pack on their lap. The mother sat in the passenger seat. In her hands, she held a pistol. Her husband got in, and the car roared to life. A few people emerged onto the street carrying packs, or bags. They all headed east, away from the coast. That’s where the scientist said it would start, on the coast.

“The phone lines,” Renata’s voice wavered, “They use a different power source than the electrical grid, right?” She wiped at beads of sweat forming on her forehead. “For emergencies, right?” She swallowed hard. “I’ll try and call my mom,” She picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. The lines in her face deepened the longer she held the phone. She frowned and jabbed at the disconnect lever several times. “The phones are dead.” Her skin paled. “The phones,” she licked her dry lips, “are dead.”

Luis was still for a long time. Strange muscles deep in his stomach twisted. Something terrible was happening, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He didn’t even know what it was. There was a worry in her soft brown eyes; he wanted to protect her, keep her from feeling this way. He walked over and put his hand on Renata’s cheek then kissed her. “We’re leaving.”

She nodded towards the bags they’d started to prepare midway through the broadcast. “Do you think this will be enough?” She rested her head on his chest.

The electricity surged back, lights blazing to life. The TV flashed it’s red warning again. After a moment, it changed to a camera feed from inside a helicopter. A reporter bobbed in and out of the frame. “We’re flying over the city of Vila de Conde, only a few kilometers from Porto.” He pointed to something off camera. “While it seems a much weaker force is headed this way, it will strike here first. That should give us some idea of what to prepare for.” The wind whipped his hair wildly and drowned his voice out. The camera focused in over the ocean. White edges of curling waves shifted as they crashed against the shore. City lights reflected on the water; then the whole city blinked out. “What the hell?” The camera jerked up over the blackened city. A loud guttural cry screeched through the TV speakers, and the reporter's voice shouted, “What in God’s nam—” The image on the TV shook and rotated like someone dropped the camera, then the screen cut to static.

Every beat of Luis’ heart pounded in his chest, teeth, and fingers. He waited for the static to end, for someone to come back, to tell them what happened.

Renata grabbed his hand; her pulse was rapid; throbbing in the vein on her neck. When she spoke, the words sounded strange like her mouth was dry after hanging open for too long. “What’s happening?”

Through the window, they saw a car slam into the small market across the street. Glass shards toppled down and shattered on the hood. Two men got out and kicked at the remaining jagged edges. With sacks in their hands, they hustled inside and filled the bags with food and supplies. They tossed them into the backseat and doubled back for more. A box of spaghetti fell out of the passenger side and burst open. Noodles splayed out on the pavement, breaking under the boots of the men as they hurried back and forth.

“I need to get something.” Luis rushed to the bedroom and pulled a pistol from under the bed. He loaded it and placed several ammo boxes in a bag before returning to his pack in the living room.

The static on the screen finally ended. A news anchor sat at a desk; sweat dripped down his face. He wiped at his brow. “It’s clear now, from this footage.” A small image on the side of the screen grew larger. It was a distant shot of the city of Vila de Conde. The entire coastal edge was gone. The hotels, resorts, beach houses. All gone. Some bits of rubble smoldered in the darkness. “This has been some sort of attack.” He stopped, and his face became stern. He sprayed saliva as he shouted at someone, “I can’t … God damn it … I can’t say that on TV. No one will believe it!” He shoved the desk over and stood; then turned and walked a few steps towards the back of the set.

A husky male voice came from off screen. “Do you believe it?” There was a pause, but the anchor kept walking. The husky voice spoke again, pleading this time, “Someone has to tell them. They have to know.” He yelled with urgency in his voice, “We saw them!”

The newscaster stopped and looked over his shoulder at the camera. “Tell them to run.” He disappeared off camera, and the screen went to static.

The lights flickered a second time, then went dark. Luis held his hand over his mouth. He stopped breathing for a moment and counted his heartbeats. He waited, but the lights didn’t come back.

With heavy packs strapped to their backs, Luis and Renata staggered into the street towards their car. A traffic jam built up behind the vehicle that had crashed into the market. People dashed inside, stealing food. The narrow European street swelled with a growing mob as they disembarked their cars to investigate the problem.

A man got into the obstructing car and attempted to reverse out. The center of the frame teetered on the curb, and the wheels spun over the slick cobblestones.

A massive man with a thick beard exited his truck. “What’s wrong with you?” He thrust crude gestures with his hands, then stopped and summoned the other stalled drivers to the stranded car. He pantomimed his intention.

Seven men gathered around the small European car and tipped it onto its side, but the vehicle still blocked the road. They shoved and kicked, but the road wouldn’t clear. Thick-beard threw up his hands, gathered his gear from his car and started walking.

Luis’s eyes widened. “I don’t understand it.”

“Do you need to?” Renata gripped his shoulder, the tips of her nails bit into his skin. “They told us to run.”

Abandoning their car, Luis and Renata joined the panicked herd. They ran, shoved and bumped into each other as they maneuvered around the empty cars. The weight of the pack made Luis unstable as people jostled against him. As each person collided into him or reached out to stabilize themselves, his balance wavered. The straps dug deep into his shoulders. The heavy load labored his run. People were constantly pressing past. He made Renata go first so he could keep an eye on her.      

A tall man with wide shoulders shoved Luis into the side of a car. He stumbled and grabbed the mirror to keep from falling. Renata screamed. He turned as she plummeted to the ground a few feet away, disappearing into the mad swarm of human bodies.

Luis surged forward ramming people until he found her. He tried to help her stand, but the mob kept pressing forward, and Luis fell on top of her. A foot crunched down on his hand; then a knee jabbed into his ribs. Droves of people crashed against his body. His hair got caught on something, and it ripped a patch from his skull. A trickle of blood dripped from his scalp onto Renata’s face.

Luis pressed his lips to her ear. “The gun is in my pack. Fire the gun.” He didn’t feel her searching the bag, too many hands, knees, and elbows jabbed and thrust into him, but he heard the gunshot, next to his ear. It thundered, and his whole body tensed. The thundering didn’t end. His ear rang, and it felt like someone was trying to hammer a nail into his brain. He saw Renata’s face, she was shouting, but he couldn’t hear her anymore, couldn’t hear the crowd, the waves of pounding feet on stone, just a high-pitched pierce in his ears.

The crowd stopped pressing down on him. They’d backed away. He got to his feet. Renata still lay on the ground. Luis dragged her into the bed of a truck. She cried and kept trying to say something, but he couldn’t hear it. Her face flexed in pain. He scanned her body and saw the ankle. Human bodies, human feet don’t bend like that. The tibia seemed to be jabbing down through the foot, forming a large bulb at the bottom, and the ankle swelled thicker than her leg.

The crowd swarmed back. Luis slumped down beside her. His eyes lingered on her face, her eyes. She couldn’t walk, not on her own. Whatever was coming would catch them. How will you take care of her? Luis took the gun from her hands. He studied the pistol for a long time, its dark oily finish, the weight of it in his hand, a weapon. If he couldn’t run, then he would fight. He crawled out of the truck bed to the car just behind. He rested the pistol on the hood and stared out into the darkness. Luis saw the white curling waves. Whatever it was, came from the ocean, he knew that. He waited a moment, watching the water, trying to see it. Nothing, just darkness. He pulled the trigger then looked at Renata. Broken. Helpless. His eyes welled up with tears. Fight. Even if you can’t see it. Fight. He fired again, fired until the gun was empty.


------


            Pedro stood on a grassy hill overlooking the city of Porto. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Flashlights bobbed in the dark like swiveling dots, spreading away from the coast and into the countryside. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. It came away with a mixture of dirt, sweat, and mud. He’d marched his family through the dust cloud of the exodus. He and his wife, Beatriz, had fought with sticks to protect their young children as they ran through the streets. The blood streaks on Pedro's knuckles were only partly his. He reached for the canteen around his neck and poured out a small handful of water to wash his hands.

            Beatriz slipped her fingers through Pedro’s gray-streaked hair. “Can I have a drink?” In her arms their two-year-old slumbered, dirt crusted snot clung to his nose. One arm hung loosely away from his body.

            Pedro lifted the canteen to his wife. “Anything new on radio?”

            She finished her drink. “Still just static.” She kissed her son on his forehead, and her wet lips came away powdered with dust. “I turned it off an hour ago. We should check again.”

            “Yeah.” Pedro nodded and headed towards the tents and campfire. His two older children were sprawled out next to the flames. On a tree stump sat a battery powered radio, its antenna tilted toward the city. He could make out the larger buildings by moonlight, but nothing electrical brightened the horizon. He flipped the radio on. Static buzzed through the speakers.

            “You have to help it.” Beatriz approached and placed her hand on the antenna. The static cleared, and a voice filled the camp.

            Pedro’s entire body stiffened at the familiar voice. The reporter who had refused to say what he had seen, the news anchor that had walked off the camera. The man who told everyone to run. His voice was heavy with emotion. He admitted he was an actor, and the entire scare had been a hoax. He took a deep breath and repeated the message.

            “Holy mother of God.” Pedro dropped his head into his hands. “It wasn’t real. None of it was real.” His voice trembled. “We left everything.”

            Beatriz stumbled and then lowered herself to the ground. Her eyes welled up. “We’re safe.” She kissed her son repeatedly. “We’re safe.”

            Pedro jerked up. “Safe?” He raised his voice, the tone sharp, “Safe?” He thrust his arm towards the city and pointed. “They lied to us.” He picked up a rock and lunged to his feet, running towards the distant city. He hurled the stone into the open plain below. “Why!”

            After a long moment, Beatriz pulled him close. “The power is still out. That was real. Something happened.”

            Pedro stared down at the city. The flashlight dots had changed direction, but the city remained dark. His body numb, he slumped down, never taking his eyes from the city. The message on the radio continued to repeat. It had been a hoax, a lie. The radio cut to static and a single light sparked in the city. It grew into a massive flame taller than any building. The fire burned brighter throughout the night but never spread. Something had happened, not the lie they told, but something.


------


The Old CIA Building, Langley Virginia. 10:09p.m.

Silas Cooper sat behind his desk reviewing surveillance reports. His black hair slicked with a heavy gel that reflected the light. He ran his hand through it and some collected along the edge of his finger. He rubbed it aggressively into his skin until only a sheen remained. Someone knocked at the door but opened it before Silas could respond.

Costly, in a vested suit, entered holding a stack of Portuguese Escudo bills bound with a rubber band. He swaggered over to Cooper’s desk and tossed the money down. “Guess what?”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit. What do you want?” Silas’ lips curled downward, and his chin tightened.

Costly flashed a crooked, toothy grin. “There’s been a Sky Fall Event in Portugal.”

The room went still and Silas chuckled. “Finally.” He let out a contented sigh. “How big?”

“Half the coast. Multiple cities.”

“Jesus.” Silas’ smile faded. “Where’s Stephenson?”

 “Shit, you’re not going to like it.” Costly hung his head. “As far as we know he’s in London —“

Silas cocked his head to one side, then back to the other. He pointed at his colleague with the file in his hand. “Now, I know you're full of shit. I ought to break your teeth for this.”

Costly held up his hand apologetically. “No jokes. It happened, and he is that close, but,” he directed Silas to wait with an index finger. “He doesn’t have his plane with him. He’ll have to take the trains, and that should buy you some time.”

“Not enough.” Silas pocketed the money. “Get me Stephenson’s list. Cross out anyone not fluent in Portuguese or Spanish.”

“Already done.” Costly pulled a file from his briefcase. There were two columns of names; all but one were crossed out.

“Jay Nichols,” Silas read. “What’s his experience?”

“Two weeks here in Langley.”

“Are you God damn kidding me? You want to feed a puppy to the lion?”










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When the Sky Falls by Joseph Bendoski

When the Sky Falls

by Joseph Bendoski

Giveaway ends May 31, 2017.


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About the Author


Joe Bendoski study psychology in college and was fascinated by all the insights it provided into human behavior, only to realize most the information never reach people, and when it did, rarely was it in a form that allowed for practical application. He started writing non-fiction, but soon came to understand how few people read that genre and began the difficult transition into fiction writing. His non-fiction works include; the Chemistry of Attraction and the Language of Emotion. 
He worked as the head writer for the television show ‘Saved by Grace.’ After being frustrated with comments like "make this scene cheaper," "What's my motivation?", and "Do we need this scene?" he deiced to go in to literature.


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Twitter: @JBendoski

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Darkest Days by N W Harris blitz


Darkest Days
N W Harris
(The Last Orphans, #4)
Publication date: May 22nd 2017
Genres: Post-Apocalyptic, Science Fiction, Young Adult

The ancient slave mongers who killed the adults and enslaved the children have angered a more advanced species of aliens. Composed of pure energy, this superior race has attacked the Anunnaki home world and is now setting a course for Earth.

The energy-based aliens believe in a system of trial by battle. They seek to push Shane and his friends into the arena with the ones who killed their parents. The results will determine if humans deserve to live, or if they should be made extinct as well. It’s up to Shane to keep his friends—and an army of kids who look up to him—alive. They’ll be fighting not just for their own lives, but for the fate of the entire human race. Can the enemy of Shane’s enemy be his friend, or is this just another species determined to exploit and destroy them?

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GUEST POST BY N.W. HARRIS:

What would I tell a new author?

What to tell a new author, hmmm… There is so much to tell, though every writer’s journey is different. First off, I’d tell them to write for themselves. If one writes just to get published and make money, I think they’ll go mad and/or quit before they ever get close. Why? It takes years to polish one’s craft enough to be published by a creditable publisher. I think writing has to be looked at as a hobby that could become a career. A writer has to want to write because there is something that is inside them that needs to get out. Write for a creative outlet. Write like it doesn’t matter if anyone besides you ever reads it. Write almost everyday, but it is important to take days off too.

Much of the education for the profession comes from practical experience. Sure, a writer draws from their experiences and traditional education. My educational background is mostly based in science, biology and anthropology, and it provides a volume of information to draw upon. But, I had to learn the craft of writing by trial and error. Every writer has to find his or her voice. That can take years, and it can only be discovered by hard work.

I’d tell them to persist. It’s my favorite word. You have to write a novel. Destroy it. Rewrite it. Invest countless hours and sometimes even years. Then you have to be willing to let all that work go because it was just the classroom where you polished your craft. You have to swallow rejection after rejection and keep fighting. When you get criticism, you have to listen to it. I’m not saying a budding writer should try to oblige every critic, but growth is critical and growth comes from taking in criticism. Deal with any pain it might cause quickly, and then get into the game again by applying what you’ve learned.



Author Bio:

Born at the end of the Vietnam war and raised on a horse farm near small town north Georgia, his imagination evolved under the swaying pines surrounding his family’s log home. On summer days that were too hot, winter days that were too cold, and every night into the wee morning hours, he read books. He lives in sunny southern California with his beautiful wife and two perfect children.

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Seraphina’s Vengeance by Sheena Hutchinson


Seraphina’s Vengeance
Sheena Hutchinson
(Seraphina #3)
Publication date: July 2017
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance
One year ago, Seraphina’s entire world seemed to have dived into a mythical land over night. She’s somehow even gotten used to the madness of it all. But what happens when the craziness stops? Things become quiet… too quiet.
She should have known better, Sera should have known that things weren’t as quiet as they seemed. After one of the best nights of her life, Sera is forced into this treacherous journey to save one of her loved ones.
But following the path of evil begins to take its toll on Sera. As she struggles with her own internal dilemmas, Nate starts to take matters into his own hands. When this unseen world finally begins to affect Sera’s emotions and her relationship. Can she hold it together to save her loved ones? Will love conquer all? Or will it turn her evil… forever?
Previous books in the series:



Author Bio:
Sheena is a born and raised New Yorker, even her writing can't seem to hide her hard sarcasm. She claims destiny has lead her back to her true passion for writing.

She constantly strives to be a positive role model and writes stories that empower and inspire. Sheena always roots for the underdog, believes in love at first sight, and that everyone should have their happily ever after.

While God is currently still writing her love story, she continues to put all her effort into her writing as she is constantly getting new inspiration.
For more info, updates, and fun facts visit her website at www.SheenaHutchinson.com

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