23 December 2016

Raven Song (Inoki's Game #1) by I.A. Ashcroft


A century ago, the world burned. Even now, though rebuilt and defiant, civilization is still choking on the ashes. 

Jackson, a smuggler, lives in the shadows, once a boy with no memory, no name, and no future. Ravens followed him, long-extinct birds only he could see, and nightmares flew in their wake. Once, Jackson thought himself to be one of the lucky few touched by magic, a candidate for the Order of Mages. He is a man now, and that dream has died. But, the ravens still follow. The nightmares still whisper in his ear. 

Anna’s life was under the sun, her future bright, her scientific work promising. She knew nothing of The Bombings, the poisoned world, or the occult. One day, she went to work, and the next, she awoke in a box over a hundred years in the future, screaming, fighting to breathe, and looking up into the eyes of a smuggler. Anna fears she’s gone crazy, unable to fill the massive hole in her memories, and terrified of the strange abilities she now possesses. 

The Coalition government has turned its watchful eyes towards them. The secret factions of the city move to collect them first. And, old gods stir in the darkness, shifting their pawns on the playing field. 

If Anna and Jackson wish to stay free, they must learn what they are and why they exist. 

Unfortunately, even if they do, it may be too late. 

Raven Song is the first of a four book adult-oriented dystopian fantasy series, a story of intrigue, love, violence, and the old spirits in the shadows who wait for us to notice them again. Readers of Neil Gaiman, Holly Black, and Charlie Human will enjoy this dark magic-laced tale rooted on the bones of what our world could become. 


Interview:

Thanks for inviting me to speak with you on your blog! And thank you for sharing this time with me as well, readers.

When did you decide to become a writer?
Subconsciously, I knew what I was the moment I was old enough to tell a story. I was always the kid embellishing tales and turning them into fantastical adventures. My first “book”, so to speak, was about my house cat running off to fight dragons. It was silly and pretty imaginative, for that age, but when I hit middle and high school, my outlets for creativity kind of dried up. Being a writer wasn’t something sensible people did. It wasn’t in the career options my guidance counselor offered. I still had the notion I wanted to tell stories, and doodled and drew a lot, but when I mentioned I wanted to be an artist for video games, visually tell stories, I was met with a lot of… well… that face people might make if you told them you’d like to smash some eggs on your head and go dancing naked down Main Street.

So I went off to college to study language, and fell into film and animation halfway through, longing to tell stories still. I didn’t get a job in a visual art field, and started getting used to the sensible day job I did get.

Then, I found tabletop gaming, a bit like Dungeons and Dragons, and at night, I started writing about my characters. The feeling was like I’d found a friend who had been patiently waiting for me to come home for over a decade. “I’m a writer,” I said, wondering how on earth it took me this long to figure it out, and that was that. It’s what I dedicate myself to now. I can’t stop, because it’d be like not breathing anymore.

What are your ambitions for your writing career?
My first priority is to finish the Inoki’s Game series. I’m in love with this world, these characters, and so far—and I almost didn’t expect this—but my readers almost seem to be as passionate about this story as I am. So, here’s a shoutout to all of you who took a chance on my debut work! In addition to that, I’ve been submitting some short stories to a few outlets, and intend to eventually submit a manuscript for traditional publishing, but mostly I intend to have a book published every year until I die. It’s going to be great.

Give us an insight into your main character. What does he/she do that is so special?
Raven Song is shared between two characters: the first, Jackson, an orphaned smuggler with magic he can barely control, and the second, Anna, a scientist who was torn out of her own time, developing strange magic of her own, and trying to come to grips with a much darker world than the one she knew.

Jackson is a man desperately trying to find his place. He’s doing his best to run his father’s company, but it’s fallen on tough times, and his prophetic nightmares and hallucinations of extinct ravens aren’t helping with his stability. He doesn’t know where he came from before he was adopted, and everyone who might have given him answers—such as New York’s Mage Order—has elected to shun him without much explanation. I would say what really makes Jackson special in all of this is that, although fate has been pushing him around, he has a keen mind which is going to seize on the thread of these riddles, and it’s going to keep unraveling them until he finds the truth. He’s not the sort of man who is going to let his existence pass by unremarked. And when he finds what he’s made of… watch out.

Anna, on the other hand, is probably the most courageous and steadfast woman I’ve ever worked with on the page. She’s been through hell—I won’t go into spoilers, but her last day in her own time was something no one would want to live through. Though she is kind, unassuming, and occasionally given to nerves, that day, she found a deep-seated ability to survive and a need to save people. She’s going to keep doing that, regardless of her newfound powers, abilities her logical mind doesn’t really want to accept at first.

I’m getting so excited talking about their stories! I hope you join their adventure in Raven Song. There’s so much more to tell.

Do you have a special time to write or how is your day structured?
I get my best ideas and have the most creative energy in the morning—which is odd, because I am the antithesis of a morning person. But my brain chemistry clearly likes this paradox, so I try to always get some writing done shortly after I wake up. Sometimes, that means I have to forcefully wake myself up in the wee hours so I can create a little before heading off to my day job or other obligations. During the writing of Raven Song, I had a little ritual where I would put together a special tea blend, a bit like a certain character in the book. The smell and the warm feel of the cup would get my mind in gear. I always also try to cordon off time in the evenings too, just so I can get as much done as I can, but I have a pretty full life, so sometimes I have to fight for that time tooth and nail.

Where do the ideas come from?
I don’t know, honestly. Sometimes I open up the dark hole in my imagination and some wild things start creeping out. Examining that too closely doesn’t seem wise.

I will say that I do have a storytelling buddy too, though, and his mind is just as strange. We often develop ideas together, let them collide and evolve. I recommend storytelling buddies for every writer.

Do you work to an outline or plot or do you prefer just see where an idea takes you?
A little bit of both! I confess, I literally can’t focus without at least a vague hint of where I want to go. So, I always make an initial outline with a few broadly-conceived story beats, some themes I want to explore as the plot gets going. Then, I start writing, and the whole thing promptly goes to hell. So, I’ll go back to the outline and make a better one with the new ideas and things I’ve learned about the characters, then go back to writing towards this new goal. And… it goes to hell again. An endless loop! The final outline probably happens when I’m about to write the final chapter and revise the rest of the book. But without that small guidance the outline provides… I’m a ship lost at sea.

Any tips on how to get through the dreaded writer’s block?
Absolutely! I like to tell myself writer’s block isn’t real. It’s just that my brain needs to bake an idea for a little longer. So, I give myself other things to chew on while the idea is developing, shifting to other scenes and concepts that are less difficult. Usually, a few weeks down the road, I’ll wake up in the middle of night, the timer in my brain going, “DING DING! I’ve got something for you!” The trick is, though, I can’t stop writing to go pursue other things for very long while the nascent idea is marinating. If I do, my brain forgets what it’s supposed to be stewing on in the back, and the idea will fizzle out.

What can we expect from you down the line?
I can’t wait to share the sequel to Raven Song with you this winter (likely February). It’s shaping up to be a very mystical, action-packed continuation to the story—it’s titled Eclipse of the Sun, and it’s going to drop quite a few secrets that Raven Song was hinting at, things readers keep asking me about! If you go to ia-ashcroft.com and sign up for my mailing list, you’ll get the full scoop—also, you’ll get some free short stories out of the bargain, so I hope to see you there. Further down the line, in addition to the final two books of the Inoki’s Game series, I also have a standalone Heaven/Hell comedy planned, something a little bit like Neil Gaiman’s and Terry Pratchett’s Good Omens meets the show Lucifer. That’s shaping up to be exciting as well; I can’t wait to share it with you, too!



I. A. Ashcroft has been writing fiction in many forms for almost twenty years. The author's first book, written at age seven, featured the family cat hunting an evil sorceress alongside dragons and eagles. This preoccupation with the fantastical has not changed in the slightest.

Now, the author dwells in Phoenix, AZ alongside a wonderful tale-spinner and two increasingly deranged cats. Ashcroft writes almost exclusively in the realm of darker fantasy these days, loving to entertain adults with stories of magic, wonder, despair, violence, and hope, bringing a deep love of mythology into every tale penned. The author also loves diverse and intriguing casts of characters.

When not buried in a book, one might find Ashcroft learning languages, charting road trips, and playing tabletop RPGs with clever and fun people.

20 December 2016

Now and Forever by Simi K. Rao


Can Shaan and Ruhi face their biggest fears and unite together? Shaan and Ruhi Ahuja, very much in love Indian newlyweds, discover each other in Simi K. Rao’s Now and Forever—the sassy and sexy sequel to Inconvenient Relations. After getting the scare of their lives while traveling in the Grand Canyon, Shaan and Ruhi go back home to one dilemma after another. Shaan’s job is in jeopardy, and one of Ruhi’s closest friends, Sunshine, needs her. How will Shaan and Ruhi handle life’s hurdles, while still trying to get to know each other as husband and wife? Will they be able to forsake all others and consolidate their relationship? 


My Review:

I received a review copy of this book in exchange for honest review.

Plot:
This is a sequel to Simi K. Rao’s Inconvenient Relations. Shaan and Ruhi are now finally settling into their marital bliss. But fate has other plans for testing them. Hurdles upon hurdles are thrown into their paths. The question is whether their new relationship will survive or not.

Characters:
Both the leading characters grow a lot in this book. Their growth is much more noticeable than it was in the first book. A couple of supporting characters play their roles well.

Narrative:
The author’s narrative style seems to have matured with the characters of this book.

Overall:
Another quirky romance from the author. I loved the relationship dynamics in this book. It’s a story that will leave you with a feel good feeling.

πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“





19 December 2016

A Beckoning Hellfire (Renegade #2) by J.D.R. Hawkins

About the Book:



During the bloody American Civil War, the stark reality of death leads one young man on a course of revenge that takes him from his quiet farm in northern Alabama to the horrific battlefields of Virginia and Pennsylvania.
On Christmas Eve 1862, David Summers hears the dreaded news: his father has perished at the Battle of Fredericksburg. Reeling with grief and thoughts of vengeance, David enlists and sets off for Richmond to join the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia.
But once in the cavalry, David's life changes drastically, and his dream of glamorous chivalry becomes nothing but a cold, cruel existence of pain and suffering. He is hurled into one battle after another, and his desire for revenge wanes when he experiences first-hand the catastrophes of war.
A haunting look at the human side of one of America's most tragic conflicts, "A Beckoning Hellfire "speaks to the delusion of war's idealism.


Hawkins should be nicknamed `Arachne' for the beautiful tapestries she weaves of the Civil War. Without a doubt, 5/5 stars. ~ Susan Barton

The author gives the reader a realistic view of the horrors of the battlefield, along with the characters’ reactions to all that happens around them. ~ Elaine



My Review:
In, A Beckoning Hellfire the plot continues from A Beautiful, Glittering Lie.

Plot:
After Hiram’s death, his son David enlists in the war. He is joined by his best friend Jake. This is more of a coming-of-age novel about David in the backdrop of the Civil War.

Characters:
Interesting and multi-dimensional.

Narrative:
The author continues to charm us with her detailed descriptions and engaging us emotionally.

Overall:

As a second book in the series, the book delivers on the expectations set up by the first book. The balance between facts and fiction has been handled well. David really grows as a character as he experiences the war first hand. Aptly titled though I wished for a more interesting book cover.

πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“

About the Author:
J.D.R. Hawkins is an award-winning author who has written for newspapers, magazines, newsletters, e-zines, and blogs. She is one of a few female Civil War authors, uniquely describing the front lines from a Confederate perspective.
Her Renegade Series includes A Beautiful Glittering Lie, A Beckoning Hellfire, and A Rebel Among Us. All three novels are award winners, and tell the story of a family from north Alabama who experience immeasurable pain when their lives are dramatically changed by the war. Ms. Hawkins is a member of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, the International Women’s Writing Guild, Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, and Pikes Peak Writers. She is also an artist and singer/songwriter. Ms. Hawkins is currently working on a nonfiction book about the War Between the States, as well as another sequel to her series.

Contact the Author: 
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Pinterest * Goodreads * Amazon








18 December 2016

A Beautiful, Glittering Lie (Renegade #1) by J.D.R. Hawkins

About the Book:
In the spring of 1861, a country once united is fractured by war. Half of America fights for the Confederate cause; the other, for unification. Rebel forces have already seized Fort Morgan and Fort Gaines, a new Confederate president has been elected, and the Constitution has been revised. In north Alabama, a farmer and father of three decides to enlist. For Hiram Summers, it is the end of everything he has ever known.

After Hiram travels to Virginia with the Fourth Alabama Infantry Regiment, he is quickly thrust into combat. His son, David, who must stay behind, searches for adventure at home by traipsing to Huntsville with his best friend, Jake Kimball, to scrutinize invading Yankees. Meanwhile, Caroline – Hiram’s wife and David’s mother – struggles to keep up with the farm as her world revolves around the letters she receives from her husband, whom she misses dearly. As Hiram and his son discover the true meaning of war, they soon realize that their choices have torn their family apart.

In this historical tale, the naΓ―vetΓ© of a young country is tested, a father sacrifices everything to defend his home, and a young man longs for adventure – regardless of the perilous cost.



Winner of the 2013 John Esten Cooke Fiction Award
2012 B.R.A.G. Medallion Honoree
Winner of Editor’s Choice Award
Honorable Mention – 2013 DIY Book Festival
Honorable Mention – 2012 Los Angeles Book Festival


Civil war tore families apart, and many of those families fought to stay together every step of the way. "A Beautiful Glittering Lie" is a novel of the American Civil War, as J.D.R. Hawkins writes of the Summers family and the rift the war brought to their family. Drawing on her heritage to tell the tale, Hawkins presents an insightful and riveting read of a family at war. "A Beautiful Glittering Lie" is a strong pick for historical fiction collections. ~ Able Greenspan- Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

My Review:
I read a non-fiction book about the Civil War about two months back. So, when I was approached to read and review this book, I accepted promptly. Having just read the history, I thought it would be interesting to see a more humane point of view of the war.

Plot:
It revolves around Summers family and how the war affects them. With Hiram, the head of the family enlisting, his wife and son are left behind to take care of the farm. We see war action and family drama in the same book.

Characters:
Well developed and balanced characters. They are easy to relate to.

Narrative:
The author has done a great job in describing both settings and emotions.

Overall:
The one thing that I have to credit the author right away for is the fact that the book feels real. Fiction based off true events has the potential to emotionally engage readers. But in many cases I find that authors over do things in order to commercialize the book and in such cases those books lose the feel of authenticity. J.D.R.Hawkins has managed to keep the book interesting through her many characters, the plot and the setting. The book transports you right into the thick of things with just enough action and drama to hold the interest of the reader. Her narrative adds to the overall impression of the book. 

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About the Author:
J.D.R. Hawkins is an award-winning author who has written for newspapers, magazines, newsletters, e-zines, and blogs. She is one of a few female Civil War authors, uniquely describing the front lines from a Confederate perspective.
Her Renegade Series includes A Beautiful Glittering Lie, A Beckoning Hellfire, and A Rebel Among Us. All three novels are award winners, and tell the story of a family from north Alabama who experience immeasurable pain when their lives are dramatically changed by the war. Ms. Hawkins is a member of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, the International Women’s Writing Guild, Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, and Pikes Peak Writers. She is also an artist and singer/songwriter. Ms. Hawkins is currently working on a nonfiction book about the War Between the States, as well as another sequel to her series.

Contact the Author: 
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Pinterest * Goodreads * Amazon






17 December 2016

Inconvenient Relations by Simi K. Rao


Shaan Ahuja found himself bowing to tradition and agreeing to an arranged marriage to the beautiful Ruhi Sharma. He went through the motions but had no intention of carrying through on his vows. His last foray into matters of the heart with an American girl had left him scarred and unwilling to try again. Thoroughly disillusioned and disgruntled he wasted no time in making his intentions clear to Ruhi on their wedding night. But, he was completely unprepared for what his new wife had in mind. 

This multi-cultural contemporary romance story of an arranged marriage is a beautiful blending of showing the Indian and American cultures. Readers will learn more about the Indian heritage and the romance that happens behind closed doors in an Indian relationship in Simi K. Rao's Inconvenient Relations. This coming of age story about true love explores multi-cultural issues. Her next book, The Accidental Wife, will be available in 2015.


My Review:

I received a review copy of this book in exchange for honest review.

Plot:
On one hand we have Ruhi, a modern Indian girl, who agrees to get into an arranged marriage. On the other hand we have Shaan, an NRI, who agrees to an arranged marriage only to appease his family. But on their wedding night Shaan discloses a secret that shatters any hope of happiness that Ruhi might have had.

Characters:
Well-developed characters. They are easy to relate to given the fact that a lot of Indians are still open for arranged marriage whether by choice like Ruhi or under pressure like Shaan.

Narrative:
The narrative complements the simple language of the author and helps by making the book really easy to get into.

Overall:
I did not like Shaan at all in the beginning. It was half way through that his characters grows and becomes more likeable. I certainly liked Ruhi a lot more though I wished that she would be a bit more firm at times. This is a quirky romance that will steal your heart!

πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“




16 December 2016

Cabbing all the Way by Jatin Kuberkar

About the Book:

Twelve people agree to an idea of running a shared transport service from a common residential locality to their out-of-civilization office campus. Twelve different minds with equally diverse personalities gel with each other to fulfil a common need. At first, the members collide on mutual interests, timings, priorities and personal discipline, but in the course of their journey, they become best friends, make long-lasting relationships, mentor and help each other on various mundane matters. The journey goes on fine until one day some members try to dictate terms over the group. The rift widens with each passing day, the tension surmounts and finally all hell breaks loose... Will the journey continue? Fasten your seat belts for the journey is about to begin...

Goodreads * Amazon

My Review:

Plot:
The pain of commuting to and from office in a big city is the bane of 21st Century. Really! If we could save the amount of time we spend on the road, life would be much easier for all of us. So, the idea of twelve people coming together to start a carpool seemed fun to me – at least it sounds like a cheap solution and also traveling with twelve familiar faces must be more welcome than traveling with strangers! In a way that is what the entire plot is about. Bringing twelve different people together and see what happens. What I liked about it is that even in the realms of fiction, the author has kept everything real. It is very easy to relate to the characters and their problems.

Characters:
The author has done a great job with the characters. It cannot be easy to write twelve characters that are all very different from each other yet interesting in their own way. While I did wish for more depth in some of the characters, I can’t really complain because the author has provided quite a variety here.

Language and Narrative:
Here’s where my problem with the book lies. There are moments when you can see that the author has potential when it comes to storytelling. But there is no stability in the narrative. Using regional lingo is a strict no-no for me. There is such diversity in just India (let alone the world) that what may feel familiar to one section of Indians may irk another section and for some it might feel like an alien language. I didn’t like it when a certain Belgian detective kept saying ‘Mon-ami’ {don’t kill me for it. I actually did enjoy that series overall. This is just one of my reading quirks.} And I don’t like it here. Why can’t people stick to one language?

Overall:
With doses of reality and hilarious conversations sprinkled all over the book, it did turn out to be a fun read.

πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“

About the Author:

For the mortal world, I pretend to be a Software Engineer who works hard (or hardly?) in the hours of a day. I am the guy next door, a hard core Harry Potter fan and a movie buff. I literally ‘live’ every movie, I have strong opinions about its content and I hate it when a movie based on an interesting concept is messed up for the sake of commercial value. I enjoy watching cartoon shows (doremon, dora and Choota Bheem) with my son. I never get bored of listen to the endless chatter of my wife. When I’m not writing, I make toys for children.

But beyond the boundaries of this ‘cholesterol rich’ coil, I am a rider of rapturous thoughts. I am a thinker, a philosopher, a seeker, a story-teller, a writer, a wanderer and every other thing that a thought can be. At times some of these figments fire out of my thoughtful bowl and command me to write, muse, create, recreate, destroy…EXPRESS!


Who Am I? I have been asking this question to myself since 33 years, and I got a different answer always. Sometimes I get confused and think, am I asking the right question to seek the correct answer? Or may be that am I missing the whole fantastic universal drama around me while I am busy finding an answer to an irrelevant question?


Does the answer even matter?



14 December 2016

Interview with Jatin Kuberkar

About the Book:

Twelve people agree to an idea of running a shared transport service from a common residential locality to their out-of-civilization office campus. Twelve different minds with equally diverse personalities gel with each other to fulfil a common need. At first, the members collide on mutual interests, timings, priorities and personal discipline, but in the course of their journey, they become best friends, make long-lasting relationships, mentor and help each other on various mundane matters. The journey goes on fine until one day some members try to dictate terms over the group. The rift widens with each passing day, the tension surmounts and finally all hell breaks loose... Will the journey continue? Fasten your seat belts for the journey is about to begin...

Goodreads * Amazon

Interview:

1. When did you decide to become a writer?

In many cases, I do not decide anything in my life; it just happens. Same with writing. Rather, I’d say, there were influencing factors that made me write. Factors as in Real life situations that inspire you to act or so something, tell it to people, convey the message they hold. 
My first book, while I was waiting was a collection of short stories that happened to me when I was waiting at different situations. My latest book, Cabbing All the Way, is also a Novel based on my real experiences of travelling in a shared cab.

2. What are your ambitions for your writing career?

I want to tell relatable stories which can be comfortably called ‘Reality-fiction’. My aim is not to become a ‘Super Author’ as in a super star, but I want to leave a mark on the reader’s mind and make decent space for me in a bookshelf! 

3. Give us an insight into your main character. What does he/she do that is so special?

Well, my current book has twelve characters in it but, there is no central character so to say. I do not believe in a hero or a villain, it is just the situations. In a given instance, one can perform a heroic act and in the next he would be just a spectator or worst, not even in the frame! 

It is the same with our lives, is it not? That is what reality fiction is all about! 

4. Do you have a special time to write or how is your day structured?

No, I do not have a routine or a fixed time to write. 
I am a IT professional and the week often makes me feel too ‘weak’ to follow a daily routine.
But, I do a lot of thinking…I create stories and actually write them in my mind, and when time permits, I type and start editing them.

5. Where do the ideas come from?

An idea is something that is instigated by a spec of inspiration…
Ideas come from inspirations and I always find them walking around me in real life. Inspirations come to me wearing different masks, they are of strange types, they speak human language but of a superior kind, they are often struck in various situations, finding answers for questions that are right or wrong…
Sometimes, gazing into the mirror can also be the source of an Idea! 

6. Do you work to an outline or plot or do you prefer just see where an idea takes you?

It depends on what I am planning to write and it is a complicated process. The first draft is often a rambling of thoughts – flying on the wings of ideas, then as a second phase I try to give it a structure, give it proper start and end, divide it into chunks or chapters, remove unnecessary parts. I do not give much importance to ‘well-formedness’ at this stage. When I am convinced that the ‘Concept’ is well developed, only then I look at the language.

7. Any tips on how to get through the dreaded writer’s block?

I feel, I am a soft target of Writer’s block. 
When I seem to have a writer’s block, I watch nonsense, utter flop movies!!! Bollywood is full of them. 
If you are a writer, then you must try this…it works like a charm for me 

8. What can we expect from you down the line?

I am working on a socio-mythological-reality fiction that is almost complete and is in for a Beta read. The other one is, what I consider, my life’s best work, is still cooking in my mind’s creative kitchen!
And when not doing anything else, I keep writing short stories under different titles. When I feel that I have written enough under a title, I look out for a publisher. 
‘Here and Now’ is one such short story collection that has tales picked up from everyday life. 


About the Author:

For the mortal world, I pretend to be a Software Engineer who works hard (or hardly?) in the hours of a day. I am the guy next door, a hard core Harry Potter fan and a movie buff. I literally ‘live’ every movie, I have strong opinions about its content and I hate it when a movie based on an interesting concept is messed up for the sake of commercial value. I enjoy watching cartoon shows (doremon, dora and Choota Bheem) with my son. I never get bored of listen to the endless chatter of my wife. When I’m not writing, I make toys for children.

But beyond the boundaries of this ‘cholesterol rich’ coil, I am a rider of rapturous thoughts. I am a thinker, a philosopher, a seeker, a story-teller, a writer, a wanderer and every other thing that a thought can be. At times some of these figments fire out of my thoughtful bowl and command me to write, muse, create, recreate, destroy…EXPRESS!


Who Am I? I have been asking this question to myself since 33 years, and I got a different answer always. Sometimes I get confused and think, am I asking the right question to seek the correct answer? Or may be that am I missing the whole fantastic universal drama around me while I am busy finding an answer to an irrelevant question?


Does the answer even matter?



13 December 2016

Concrete Smile by Bernard Maestas

Concrete Smile

by Bernard Maestas

Book Blast December 13, 2016

on Tour February 1-28, 2017

Synopsis:

Concrete Smile by Bernard MaestasA crooked conglomerate makes a move on fictional Newport City by first attempting to incite a war between its existing criminal organizations before taking over with its own "in-house" group. Hired by a major gang leader to avert the war, freelance information broker Kevin recruits his ex-enforcer, ex-con brother Chance, and Kaity, a reporter with a vendetta, to uncover the conspiracy.

Book Details:

Genre: Crime, Thriller
Published by: Rebel ePublishers
Publication Date: December 15, 2016
Number of Pages: 270
ISBN: pending
Series: Internet Tough Guys, #3
Purchase Links : Coming Soon!

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE BUSINESS HOURS Lost somewhere in Newport City’s densely crowded, late-night skyline, six bulky bodies packed into some unimportant restaurant’s musty storeroom. Bulging with prison muscles and bulletproof vests, their dark skin branded with black tattoos broadcasting their gang affiliation, the men were silent. They crowded around a single rickety card table, the room’s only furniture, and toiled under the dim glow of a single yellow bulb dangling from the ceiling. A masonry bucket full of glittering brass ammunition sat centered between them. None spoke. The rhythmic clicking of guns and bullets was the only soundtrack accompanying the tension. Aside from their silence and the grim, practiced precision with which they pressed the unstamped cartridges into their magazines, they each had one other detail in common: Each man, whether dangling from a pocket, knotted around a wrist, or cinched across his brow, displayed a deep crimson bandana. That bandana, the gang flag of The Reds or Red Nation – the umbrella under which all the African-American gangs in Newport City fell – was the most crucial accessory. Durel Rivers, better known as Bones, set aside his last loaded magazine and grabbed his weapon. Exceedingly illegal, the fully automatic Tec-9 machine pistol, with its taped grip and folding stock, actually had a Federal law banning it by name. A loud slap cut the stifling air as he locked a magazine into the receiver and jacked the first round into the chamber. Bones covered his body armor with a baggy sweatshirt, loose enough to conceal the illicit firearm beneath it, its papoose pocket stuffed with the ready reloads he’d prepared. Behind him, the rest of his crew wrapped up their own loading tasks, donned jackets and hoodies of their own and then followed him out of the storeroom. The creaky storeroom door swung open into the deep gloom of a deserted kitchen. The restaurant’s legitimate business hours long over, the white-coated cooks and staffers long gone, Bones and his crew had special access. He led them past the stainless steel appliances and shelves to and then through the back door. Windows down, keys in the ignitions, a pair of black SUVs waited in the greasy shadows of the narrow alley behind the restaurant. Bones climbed into the shotgun seat of the leading truck while the rest of the crew split up between them, wordlessly sliding into their plush leather seats. Bones gave a simple and wordless nod to the man who took the driver’s seat beside him. Engines came to life with deep rumbles but the music that came on in the cabins was low. They were on a mission and there would be no distractions. As one, the pair of SUVs rolled out of the alley and onto the darkened Newport City streets. While the bustling city of nearly five million had plenty of nightlife, Bones’ crew stuck to the quiet streets of closed businesses, darkened storefronts, and slumbering apartment dwellers. It was late, or more precisely, early in the morning, and only the creatures of the night were out haunting the streets. Moving patiently, always five miles per hour over the speed limit – no more, no less – they rolled to their first stop at the fringe of a housing project complex, a U-shaped cluster of old tenement towers. Silent and pensive, Bones scanned every inch of the block around them, scrutinizing each of the people who made up the sparse nighttime populace. A pair of teenagers with Reds’ flags on display occupied one corner while a homeless man wandered the block further down. No police, no “jackers,” Bones was as certain as he could be of that. He twisted in his seat and said it all to the gangster in the back with another wordless nod. The back door popped, as did that of the trailing SUV, two men emerging into the street and crossing, their hands beneath their shirts and gripping the handles of their guns. As they disappeared into one of the building lobbies, Bones let his attention slip for just a moment. He plucked a cigarette from his pack, set it between his lips, bringing it to life with the click of his lighter, and blew the fumes from his nose. He had only taken two deep drags when the gangbangers emerged. The one from the trailing truck led the way, alert and ready. The man behind had a small gym bag slung over his shoulder. Bones turned to look as the man climbed back aboard the SUV. “All there,” he said simply, ripping open the zipper to give Bones a look inside at the bricklike bundles of cash. Bones straightened in his seat, his cigarette hand pushing out through the open window and waving the trailing SUV forward. Together, they pulled away from the curb and rolled off into the city. It was after three when they finally pulled away from their last pickup in East Charity, a sleepy neighborhood on the southeastern side of the City’s eastern borough. Bones lit up a third cigarette and then threw a glance into the backseat. Aside from the burly gangster riding with them, more of those bulging bags of cash now packed the seat to shoulder height. Over the last hour and change, they had stopped everywhere from drug dens to basement casinos, collecting the week’s deposits. With the trucks laden with money, the first half of the job, in some ways the easy half, was done. Alert, mind focused, Bones allowed himself to relax just a little, let the flood of nicotine calm his blood slightly. From here on, it was a straight drive to their final destination where they would turn over the money to be cleaned. No more stops, no more tense minutes of waiting on the street like sitting ducks. That said, he also knew that the best time to hit the convoy would be now, when it was flush and the crew had backed off the razor’s edge of their nerves. The bold glow of their headlights swung down a street heavy with shadows, most of the streetlights out except for some pale yellow ones at the far end. Bones’ hackles came up and he was just about to order them off the street when shrieking tires sang their discordant chorus into the night as something flashed out of the driveway ahead. No headlights had offered any warning. “Shit!” Bones’ driver seethed as he stood on the brakes, grinding them to a hard halt. In the glare of their SUV’s headlights, Bones now made out the form of the battered minivan that had darted across their path and stopped. He was already pulling his Tec-9 from beneath his shirt when the van’s sliding door scraped aside with a raspy grind of worn metal. Crouched tightly in the back of the van, shoulder-to-shoulder, a pair of masked men took aim and opened up torrents of fully automatic gunfire. The driver beside Bones jerked and flopped violently, his body riddled with relentless fire. Bones himself managed to duck down below the dash, behind the protection of the engine block, the only part of a normal car that would actually stop a bullet. Jagged pebbles of shattered glass rained down on the back of his neck. Behind Bones, the back door kicked open and the armed gangster ducked out as he sprayed the van with his own vicious rake of fire. Without rising from behind the dash, Bones reached out, shoving open the driver’s door and rolling the bloody, shredded corpse of the driver into the street. He was halfway over the center console when he saw his doom. From behind the row of parallel-parked cars lining the far side of the street, cloaked in the heavy shadows, more gunmen popped up, bracing and steadying their rifles on the hoods, trunks or roofs of the parked cars. Bones threw his machine pistol into line but it was too late. The last thing Bones ever saw was the hellish strobes of the muzzle flashes popping in the darkness as they poured another withering hailstorm of copper-jacketed death into the street. *** Don’t shit where you eat. Words to live by in Kevin Wyatt’s book. So, even at three in the morning, making the drive across the Admiralty Bridge into the peninsular eastern borough was just smart business. Polished black paint gleaming, throaty engine growling melodically, Kevin’s ’67 Mustang fastback made short work of the trip, weaving only occasionally around slower moving traffic. An oasis in the night of closed businesses on an otherwise nondescript street in East Charity, a brightly lit parking lot snipped off the corner of the block. It wrapped around two sides of a large diner that, despite its size and popularity with the late-night crowd that knew of its existence, still looked like a greasy hole in the wall. Kevin had grown fond of the place, though. Referring to it as his office, he conducted those meetings there that required a certain degree of public exposure mixed with only a modicum of privacy. He’d chosen the spot for the food initially and had quickly adopted it as a regular haunt. Despite this, no one greeted him by name as he entered and left the biting air of the early November chill in the parking lot. The diner was warm inside, full of the aroma of food frying in grease. At least a half-dozen parties of three or four twentysomethings in nightclub attire were scattered among the booths and tables. His regular booth, the one at the far back corner, just on the fringe of the last overhead bulb’s halo of light, was unclaimed, he noted with a smile. Kevin took another moment to scan the diner’s patrons and confirm that his clients hadn’t arrived yet. He pivoted and swung down the row of booths running along the diner’s storefront of greasy picture windows. As he went, he sloughed his black leather jacket, a dark T-shirt with a stylish designer logo beneath. Though he could have melded into one of the packs of club goers in the diner with his age and good looks, he wasn’t here to socialize. He had a narrow face of mildly chiseled features decorated with a light dusting of freckles that went appropriately with the rusty copper color of his short hair. He was above average height at just under six feet, but his fit and trim frame was not particularly remarkable. A waitress, mopping the countertop with a rag, glanced up as he passed her. She made contact with his bright hazel gaze and a faint smile of passing recognition turned up the corners of her mouth. “The usual?” she asked, getting a nod and a smile in reply. Kevin dropped into his booth’s far side, his back to the wall, his face to the door, and slid into the corner. It was a good spot, behind the wall and out of the frame of the big window while still giving him an excellent line of sight into the parking lot and the establishment. Kevin scanned with intent while taking care to seem oblivious, just another late night customer out for a midnight snack. A nondescript sedan, gray, neither old nor new enough to be noteworthy, coasted to a halt outside. Three young men, cautious and patiently panning their gazes over every angle of surrounding night, sat in the car for a few long moments before dismounting and approaching the diner door. The waitress returned and slid Kevin’s order in front of him just as the trio filed through the front door. She turned and left the table while he raised an arm, brushed with a sleeve of freckles, and waved them over. In a moment’s pause of prudent appraisal, they sized Kevin up from the door before sliding down the row. They were dressed to slip under notice, plain jeans and plainer hooded sweatshirts, but that didn’t fool Kevin for a second. “You the guy?” the first, a deeply tanned Hispanic in his late twenties, asked with no discernable accent. “I am,” Kevin confirmed with a nod. “Have a seat.” “How’d you know it was us?” asked the second, a black man of the same age as the first, as the whole trio – rounded out with a smaller and younger Asian man for diversity – took the opposite side of the booth. “Lucky guess,” Kevin replied plainly. He lifted his steaming cup of black coffee and nursed a sip, careful to keep his eyes above the rim to watch the three of them. “You have something for me?” He set the cup beside the plate holding his so far untouched “Heartstopper” sandwich. The trio exchanged glances before the leader threw one back over his shoulder at the rest of the diner. Kevin didn’t have to look so obviously to know no one was paying them any mind. Satisfied, the leader nodded at the Asian at the end of the booth. He slipped an envelope from the papoose pocket of his sweatshirt, laid it on the table and slid it across. Kevin took the envelope and peeled it open in his lap, leafing through its stack of crisp twenty-dollar bills. He kept his poker face firmly in place as he did, lifting his head to nod to his clients in approval. He reached across the booth, stuffing the envelope into the inner pocket of his jacket and slipping out a coin-sized SD card. He slid it across the table the same way he’d received his payment. The Asian man took it, plugging it into a small tablet and scanning through it. “As promised,” Kevin said, his focus on the leader. “Truck routes, communications protocols and duty rosters for Allied Armored Couriers. Good until the end of the month.” The leader looked from Kevin as he finished, to the Asian, who had completed his scan and nodded. Kevin scooped up his mug and took another sip of his coffee, watching as the leader turned back to him. “How’d you get this?” Kevin smiled a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he lowered the mug. He offered his hand across the table for a shake. “A pleasure doing business with you.” The leader’s eyes narrowed, but he clasped Kevin’s hand in a brief squeeze before he and his crew exited the booth. He watched them leave, as did the waitress, who glanced over at him and met his eyes. This time, his smile was a little warmer as he offered her a shrug and dropped his attention to his plate. *** The Heartstopper was an egg sandwich, in simplest terms. To be more exact, however, it was a heaping serving of scrambled whole eggs capped with a slice of full-fat American cheese and enclosed in two slices of grilled and buttery bread. It was decadently delicious and so worth the bloated feeling in Kevin’s gut as he left his booth, leaving cash, including a generous tip, on the table top and exited the diner. He mounted up the Mustang, kicking it to grumbling life, and swung out of the parking lot, aiming for home. Business for the night finished, it was late and, crucially, he had a very early and very important errand awaiting him in the morning. Blue and red strobes blazed through the Mustang’s rear windshield as the howl of a siren drowned out even the healthy rumble of his powerful engine. Kevin’s heart nearly stopped as his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror framing the police sedan rushing up on his bumper. “Fuck me,” he breathed, hands tightening around the wheel. For half a second, he considered running. Lean fingers coiled around the shifter, his dress boots settled over the pedals, and Kevin sketched out a plan for his flight for freedom. It started with a downshift and a ferocious bellow of acceleration but he had no idea where it went from there. Instead, he reminded himself he wasn’t carrying anything illegal, nor did he have any warrants out for him. At least, as far as he knew. Easing toward the first gap in the row of cars lining the curb, Kevin blinked as the patrol car blew past him. Before he had a chance to relax, crack a smile of relief, three more cops in roaring sedans, their emergency lights screaming their urgency, sirens wailing, blasted down the road. They were moving fast, fast enough that their passing rocked Kevin’s heavy car as they went. Kevin stared after them as they faded into the distance before whipping around the corner at the end of the next block. His hands squeezed the wheel tightly and his mind reached, pondering the possibilities. Slowly, his thin lips spread in a smile. Something big had happened. He had a pleasant influx of new business to look forward to. From CONCRETE SMILE, A novel, By BERNARD MAESTAS © BERNARD MAESTAS
Bernard Maestas

Author Bio:

Bernard Maestas lives in paradise. A police officer patrolling the mean streets of Hawaii, he has a background in contract security and military and civilian law enforcement. When not saving the world, one speeding ticket at a time, and not distracted by video games or the internet, he is usually hard at work on his next book.

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10 December 2016

To Catch A Flame by Lily Freeman




Title: To Catch A Flame 
Author: Lily Freeman 
Genre: Erotic Romance 
Publisher: Fifth Star North





A contemporary erotic, BDSM novel. 112,000 words

After PJ and Luke’s final volatile encounter, she struggles to cope, but she’s not alone.

Mika and Elliot have moved into her home, her bed—stripping her bare and stealing her heart.
PJ’s no longer terrified of the man who tried to break her, just terrified of falling in love with the two men she knows she can never have.

Or can she?


All it takes is a confession, one little word, and her entire world tilts abruptly. What they’ve hidden from her is the sweetest of betrayals, and PJ’s devastated by it, yet she just can’t fight the pull towards them any longer.


The love they have for her, and each other is intense and all consuming, but something’s not right. It’s subtle at first, a word, a gesture, a pair of handcuffs—an exchange of power. Despite her trepidation, her trust in them allows PJ to explore the things about herself that Luke tried to destroy, and she does until she’s faced with a soul-breaking ultimatum.


Secrets and lies, wants and needs. Once again, PJ finds herself completely bound by someone else's desires, only this time, there’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. This time, she’s forced to face her fears so that she can claim the hearts of the two men who were always meant to be hers.











I didn't discover writing like most authors do. There was no childhood dream, no undeniable urge to put pen to paper. My story started off with an unexpected life changing event : a sizeable tax refund and a water-taxi ride caught from the wrong side of the Thames. I've always been an avid reader and a daydreamer, so when an idea for a novel was born from those three seemingly unrelated events, I ran with it.

That idea became an obsession and also a passion. My characters are big and bold, the men are dominant to a fault and the women are strong and sassy. I'm fascinated by the concept of fate. One decision causing another and another, all of them having consequences which ultimately draw my characters together only to tear them apart. There will always be a happy ending, because there's no denying, I'm a romantic at heart - but a little pain woven amongst all that pleasure makes for a very explosive plot.


When I'm not writing or meticulously plotting my next novel, I am a wife and a mother. I have a healthy appetite for physically challenging sports and I love coffee. If all else fails you'll find me reading a book which was how my journey began and will no doubt be how it will end.


Lily.