Friday, October 12, 2018

The Gathering by L.A. Fiore

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  Words like unnatural and impure started the whispers. From the very beginning, Ivy Blackwood was different. She was only a child when she was accused of setting the fire, one she passively watched engulf the small house she had called home. Her fingertips burned and her hair singed. Some who watched her crossed themselves, convinced she was soulless for she showed no emotion at all. Calm and dispassionate, even when the screaming started that quickly turned to bellows of agony before dying into nothing but the roaring of the fire. She was locked away where she couldn’t bring harm to herself or others. To all involved, they had protected the world from a monster, but sometimes things are not what they seem.

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  LA Fiore is a hybrid author of thirteen novels. She believes in a happily ever after, but she likes to make her readers work for it. When she's not writing, she can usually be found in the garden or hanging on the deck with her family and friends. She lives in Bucks County, Pennsylvania with her husband and two kids and their four fur babies.

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Friday, September 14, 2018

Subzero by Cambria Hebert



Subzero
Cambria Hebert 
(BearPaw Resort, #4)
Publication date: October 19th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense, Thriller

My best friend, Liam Mattison, was born with snow in his veins.
Me? Ice.
Maybe that’s why my eyes are this color. Maybe it’s because I was born in Caribou, where there’s more snow than sun.
I always knew I had a chill within me, but after my time with the army, that chill froze over. I saw and did things most people couldn’t fathom. I made contacts with people who were more beast than man.
I came home altered, and there was no going back.
Except I did. It had to be done, and I didn’t regret it.
But now I’m thrust back into a world where people had forgotten my name. Back into a past I walked away from.
Memories of all the things I’ve done, of the people I’ve left behind, are floating to the surface.
The late-night summons wasn’t really unexpected.
The request was.
Saying no is impossible when you’re the only man equipped for the job. Saying no is difficult when what you really want to say is yes.
So here I am, past and present colliding with a woman I intentionally left behind. A woman who needs me to keep her alive.
I made a promise, and I will keep it.
Even if I die doing it. Even if it means the ice inside me goes subzero.


Author Bio:
Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.
Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house).
Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.
Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

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Monday, August 13, 2018

Her Revolution by C.S. Hand



Her Revolution
Genre: YA Dystopian
Release date: August 8th 2018:
For fans of Divergent, Red Rising, and The Hunger Games comes a gripping new tale of ambition, treachery, and love.
When what appears as a prank on arrogant ambassadors at an exotic vacation city turns out to be the first tremors of a revolution, the Enlightened Council of Castillia turns to its 11-year old undefeated military prodigy and her loyal Guardians for help.
After all, it was Innocence who liberated the Jewel of All Cities in the first place. Everyone knows she will be the last to let it slip from her grasp.
But why would anyone want to leave Castillia? Its laws are just. Its Council is democratically elected. It has liberated more cities than any other Republic, past or present.
But Castillia has enemies, that’s for sure.
Sedition is the favorite trick of the southern Republic Ausonia. In fact, the exotic vacation city used to belong to Ausonia—and they have always wanted it back.
But could those hedonists really organize anything between all their dancing and drinking?
Or has Vesper, the mighty Republic to the North finally woken from its slumber? It has plenty of old scores to settle with Castillia and it’s palm-lined streets.
Squashing the uprising and re-uniting the town and her city could be the perfect way to end the most legendary military career Castillia has ever known and begin a new, exhilarating life as a prominent politician.

But it also might just be the perfect way to start what Innocence has secretly always yearned for: her own Empire.
~

Salute

“As long as the enemy is not defeated, he may defeat me; then I shall no longer be my own master; he will dictate the law to me as I did to him.”
Clausewitz


When I was six I commanded the Sun Battalion to charge the center of Ausonia’s forces at Serenissima, the most beautiful and opulent city on this planet.
Every single man, woman, and child from that legendary unit died in the melee.
But it broke Ausonia’s center and then we out flanked them—on both sides.
Ausonians begged for their lives, but when you lose your Republic’s most famous battalion you cannot allow for survivors.
Even if you have just stolen the jewel of cities from an enemy’s grasp.
When I was seven I saw my own army nearly overrun.
That was until I came out from my command hub and grabbed the banner from a fleeing Guardian and turned Lazarus on, then began sweeping through the enemy’s ranks with my sword of trembling lightning.
That was the first time I had ever been shot more than thirteen times.
When I was eight I had to execute my second-in-command for treason. We were low on ammunition and my lightning blade wouldn’t turn on, so I had to do it with a rock.
When I was nine I led a lightning-sabre charge straight into the heart of Vesper’s Hyper Accelerated Rifles.
Everyone but a child named Beatrice was mowed down.
But between myself and Beatrice and the second, third, and fourth fearless waves we cut them to pieces.
The problem with Hyper Accelerated Rifles is if they fire too fast for too long they overheat and then don’t fire at all.
That was not the first time I had killed defenseless human beings—and enjoyed it.
When I was ten I ambushed Jacob Heist and his band of outlaws who were traveling to various cities in the South preaching about freedom and liberation and brotherhood—the very ideals my City was founded upon.
They said we were the very opposite of those things and that we were what they called a “Dysotpia,” which is a new word used by uneducated thugs to incite rebellions against people like me.
When we ambushed them on the shore and they didn’t even try to run I assumed it was because they knew it was over.
They had no weapons but refused to surrender, even after I offered it to them a second time.
So we murdered the band of outlaws and searched for the weapon we knew we would find, “The Chariot Buster,” which they usually used to blow our ships out of the sky.
Heist and his gang loved to beam our hovercrafts into vapor, like he did the previous seventeen times we tried to ambush him. In fact, he did it so much, we called it “bait and beam.”
But all we found in his traveling caravan were hundreds of copies of an unsettling novel from some ancient planet about an elf and a minotaur who overthrow an entire world.
If that isn’t criminal literature worthy of suppression then I don’t know what is.
What I also didn’t know was that we were being recorded and streamed live over an inventive social media application called Periscope.
So it looked like I butchered a peaceful intellectual on a paradisiacal white sand beach in spite of his repeated cries for mercy and justice.
Blogs went crazy.
They reported that we murdered them when they were defenseless and did terrible things to their corpses.
What they didn’t mention is that my dogs were starving and that we had a long march back. We weren’t going to be the ones eaten alive.
Besides, you can’t take heavy machinery on an ambush.
The outlaw preachers would have heard us coming miles away.
So I had to take the dogs.
And the dogs had to eat.
There were hundreds of uprisings.
I crushed them all.
My City stood by my side. Esteemed Council members lost their seats because of me, some had attempts made on their lives, and some were successfully assassinated.
That’s when I learned someone can strike at you even from death, and when possible never turn an enemy, who is mortal and fallible, into a martyr, who is infallible and immortal.
I’m eleven now, and this is my last year as Commander.
After this year I will retire from my duties as a Guardian of the Republic, squelching rebellions from the other cities who never pay their tributes on time, are never fair in their dealings, and are always plotting against my perfect, beautiful City.
Oh, my name is Innocence—which as far as I can tell is just some made-up word.
~

It's 50% off on launch day for the eBook (August 8, 2018)
About the Author
C. S. Hand loves philosophy, literature, and science-fiction and fantasy books. He studied British Romanticism at Cambridge before leaving to translate great science-fiction and fantasy books. You can read more about his 3 great loves here.
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Tuesday, August 7, 2018

The Harvest Saga by Casey L Bond

The Harvest Saga
Author: Casey L Bond
Genre: YA Dystopian
Cover Designer: The Illustrated Author Design Services
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Reap (Book 1)
The remnants of the United States of America have been divided.
From five enormous, technologically-advanced cities, the Greaters rule over the Lessers. In the Lesser village of Orchard, things are not as perfect as Abby Kelley thinks they are. When the apple harvest draws near and the Greater’s engineered fruits become too much for one village to handle alone, reinforcements from neighboring villages are called upon.
Having to choose between her best friend, whom she has no romantic feelings for, and mysterious newcomer Crew, Abby finds herself in the middle of a harvest that she had no intention of becoming a part of. She becomes involved in a situation that threatens the strict rule of the Greaters, and just might give the Lessers hope for a better tomorrow. But, can she help the Lessers without losing Crew? And if she chooses Crew, will she lose her best friend?
Resist (Book 2)
Abby Kelley returns home from the Greater city of Olympus to find that things in Orchard Village are bad, very bad. The Olympian Guard has taken over village affairs. The Lessers are being worked to the bone in the coldest winter Orchard has seen. Villagers are being dragged away for the slightest indication of what they call “resistance.” She needs to keep her head down and her mouth shut. But, it’s so hard to do when everything within you screams rebellion.
Kyan is coming on strong, trying to convince her to take a chance on him. Shocking news of Crew’s activities in Olympus sweeps through the Villages. When Abby is taken away by the Olympian guard, Kyan sends word to Vesuvius for help. But, no one could have predicted their idea of help or what they might expect in return.
Who will be left to pick up the pieces of Abby’s heart?
Reclaim (Book 3)
The Greaters have ruled over the Lessers since The Fall. They’ve taken Abby’s family. They’ve taken her friends. They’ve taken her hostage and threatened the villages.
Enough is enough. Freedom is worth fighting for. Love is worth dying for.
And the Lessers are done taking orders from the Greaters.
Reclaim…the epic conclusion of the award-winning Harvest Saga.
Award-winning author Casey L. Bond resides in Milton, West Virginia with her husband and their two beautiful daughters. When she’s not busy being a domestic goddess and chasing her baby girls, she loves to write young adult and new adult fiction. You can find more information about Bond’s books via the following links: 
Buy Links: 
A SLAM JOLTED ME OUT of my slumber. Another bang echoed in the front of the cabin, and footsteps hurried to my door. I didn’t know how long I’d slept, or if it was still daylight, but I was still tired and wanted to retreat back into the sweet abyss again. My door opened, and I turned my head to see my aunt standing in the doorway. “What happened, Abby?” She rushed over. I tried to push myself up, but my back was so stiff. The skin even felt stiff. How was that possible? I winced. “Stay down. Let me see.” She gingerly lifted the back of Ky’s shirt and peeked underneath. The fabric slowly peeled away from my skin where the bandages Evelyn had applied didn’t quite reach, or had shifted, and it felt like part of the wounds tore open again. A hiss escaped from between my teeth at the same time a curse flew from her lips. “Evelyn sent more salve. She said that your body would absorb part of it and that more would have to be packed in.” Lulu helped me sit up and, one by one, I unbuttoned the shirt and again pried it away from my back. The only portion not torn to shreds from the fifteen lashes was the part my bra had covered; although, by the last lash, it only hung on by a thread. “Evelyn came to the depot. She said you’d been injured and gave me the medicine and salve. I had no idea. Did Norris do this?”All I could do was nod. Lulu took my shirt as I laid back down on my stomach and tried to remain as still as possible while she packed my wounds. Having left the room, I could hear her banging around in the kitchen before she returned with a steaming mug containing more of the special tea. I gulped it down, hoping it would help numb the pain like it had before. When my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep almost immediately. Something was touching my face, caressing my cheek. The skin that brushed mine was rough, hardened by the work we all shared. Am I dreaming? I waited, trying to see if it was real or part of a dream. Whichever it was, it was nice, comforting. Rough fingertips moved over the parts of my back that weren’t split open and packed with gunk. I sucked in a breath and held it. It was real. I moved my head and saw his silhouette against the candlelight flickering in from the kitchen and living room. “Ky?” My voice was raspy and barely sounded like my own. Sleep and exhaustion filled every chord. “Shh. I’m here.” Suddenly, I was very aware I was lying shirtless on my bed. Even though I was on my stomach, that didn’t help me feel any less naked in front of my best friend—who happened to be a member of the male species—a very fine specimen according to my girlfriends.I knew he was handsome. I wasn’t blind. But I didn’t see him like that. He’d dated many of my friends and was getting ready to marry Paige Winters after the harvest was complete and the orchards picked bare. His fingertips traced the intact skin between my shoulder blades, and I tensed under his touch. He’d kissed my head and temple and hugged me more times than I could count, but that was different; it was more intimate. His touch was delicate, gentle compared to his normal strength, and anything but playful. “Ky?” He didn’t answer. His fingers explored my back, careful not to stray too close to the wounds streaking across my skin. “Kyan?” “Shut up, Abby. Just let me... Just shut up.” He’d never talked to me like that. His voice was raspy, and he’d never, ever told me to shut up before. So I did. I wasn’t sure why. He shouldn’t have been touching my skin. Shouldn’t have been caressing the good parts left; but, sitting with me in the dark, he was doing exactly that, and I was allowing it. 
Copyrighted 2014 Casey L. Bond

Thursday, June 28, 2018

Cardboard Castles by K.L. Young

Cardboard Castles
Genre: YA Fantasy
Release date: May 17th 2018
Graye Castle Press

When seventeen-year-old Josilyn begins to see the fantastical world of her father's imagination, she can't help but wonder if he isn't insane at after all, or that she might be.
Living in a crumbling cardboard castle under the park bridge and struggling to care for her mentally ill father, Josilyn's life has been anything but regal since her mother's death. But when a former friend discovers Josilyn's secret and leads Child Protective Services directly to her, her father's visions of grand feathered dragons and treacherous dark knights become the least of Josilyn's problems.
Now separated from her father and terrified for his safety, Josilyn sees his imaginary world, forcing her to consider the possibility that someone may be desperate to see her father dead--and her in chains.
In a stunning twist of reality, survival may not be a matter of sanity, but who to trust, and who to kill.
ON SALE for only $2.99 (FREE on Kindle Unlimited) through July!
**A portion of all sales from the book are being donated to Chattanooga's Community Kitchen, which serves the author’s city homeless population (https://www.homelesschattanooga.org/).** 

Download the first five chapters of Cardboard Castles for free! http://dragonflycorps.kendrayoung.com/

Advance Praise: 
“CARDBOARD CASTLES is by turns introspective, heart-wrenching, brilliant, and daring. Young’s prose seized me like a dragon’s talons, never letting go…” –Keith Willis, author of the Knights of Kilbourne series

“CARDBOARD CASTLES is by turns introspective, heart-wrenching, brilliant, and daring. The world-building is outstandingly well done, and Young’s talent shows here especially. While both worlds Jos inhabits are intricate and complex, Young brings them each to vivid, sometimes painful reality. I’ll be honest—this is not a book for the faint of heart. Ms. Young explores some dark themes here—homelessness, mental illness, betrayal. And yet despite this, there is humor and hope and love abounding in Josilyn’s story.” –Keith Willis, author of the Knights of Kilbourne series.
About the Author
K.L. Young's fascination with all things fantastical comes out in her writing, whether it’s dragons, vampires, or ghosts – if it has wings, fangs, or goes bump in the night, she’s writing about it.
She lives in beautiful Chattanooga, Tennessee with her husband, Tim, who’s responsible for making her believe all her writing dreams will come true. Together they have two daughters, Savannah and Tabitha, who both enjoy art and writing as well. By day, she teaches eighth grade in a suburban middle school where she shares her love of writing and dreaming “big dreams” with her students.
Social Media Links: 
Excerpt 
Every molecule of oxygen evaporates from the room. My mouth collapses in on itself, unable to form words to admit what she already knows. How could I be so stupid? The syllables claw at my throat, desperate for release, but years of practice clamp my mouth shut. 
Livi reaches out to touch my hand, but I recoil and grip the arms of the chair tighter. My fingertips are numb. The room’s unbearably hot and my heart beats way too fast. I consider throwing up again, but this time it’s not because I want to. 
“It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you.”
I glance up at the abominable officer, and I’m not so sure about that. What I wouldn’t give for him to be my father, here to take me away from this mess. He turns his head and rolls his shoulders back, his face contorting into a mask of contempt. The air in the room thickens and I squint my eyes shut. My face goes completely numb, like someone has punched me with a fistful of Novocain. 
“Can you hear me?” Livi asks.
I slide from the chair to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. I blink again, and my back isn’t against the chair but an enormous boulder, cold and covered with dew. I arch my spine, fitting the curve of it against the stone, trying to ease the prickling sensation that makes me want to rip the clothes from my body.
Livi’s voice pulls me back again, but her sentences are broken. Maybe it’s because she’s so far away – still in the conference room, but I’m here. Wherever here is. A hyacinth-scented breeze tickles my cheek as I let my hands trail through the grass so that it sticks up through my fingers. I turn my face into the breeze to find a young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, racing toward me from about thirty yards away. The girl screams, her fear raking against me. 
“Princess!” she wails. Not once, but three times. She hikes up her long skirts, her hair tumbling free from the top of her head and spilling around her shoulders. Her arms pump at her sides as she digs harder into the run. 
This can’t be real. 
Livi’s voice cuts through the distance again. She says things like “panic attack” and “shock.” The truth of it punches me in the gut and leaves me desperate to find my way back to her voice.
The girl looms over me. Her face fades in and out of focus, as if she’s made of oil on water. 
“Princess. Please don’t leave us again. Knights march toward the castle. We are in danger. Your father—you must remain with us.” Her fingers dig into my shoulders, yanking me toward her. Another breath, and the grass slips from between my fingers; the edge of a chair pressing into the back of my head replaces the coolness of the stone. 
I blink again, swallowing back my own puke, and the conference room snaps into focus. They’re both hovering over me, concern on Livi’s face and confusion on the officer’s. They lean back so I can sit up.
Nurse Anne hurries back into the room, pushing through the space they’ve made, and presses a cold towel to my head. “It’s okay, deep breaths." 
The kindness in her voice overwhelms me so much I start to cry, no matter how hard I try not to. At first, my tears are hardly noticeable, but soon they turn into horrible, choking sobs. My heart stutters at an alarming pace and sweat coats my palms, making my grip on the chair's legs slick. I uncurl my fingers and press my hands into the carpet, pushing the tips of my fingers into individual loops in the pile.
The reality of what’s happening slams into me. My pulse quickens and the tingling sensation spreads from my face and down my arms into the tips of my fingers. Blackness closes in from the edges of my vision, creating an elongated tunnel of the central part of the room. Livi hovers over me, her face distorted by the shift in my vision.
I grapple for the seat, anything to ground me in reality. Father’s face flickers in my mind. I’m unable to even consider what might be happening to him at this same moment, not to mention the only plausible explanation for me believing, for even a second, I was sitting in a field of some sort with my back against an imaginary stone. And the girl, so lifelike. 
I am my father’s daughter. And I am terrified of that fact. 
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