The First Sin by Lisa Beth Darling – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Lisa Beth Darling will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

 

Lucifer Returns to Eden

Lucifer is unceremoniously yanked out of Hell by his Father so he can return to his old job in the Garden of Eden. When he arrives, broken, battered, and bleeding, he falls into the arms of Eve who is unsure about seeing her old lover again as are the people now living in a dying paradise.

Tasked with returning the Sacred Trees of Life and Knowledge to flourishing bounty once more, Lucifer struggles to learn his new place in his old home. Yet, he hasn’t been placed there solely to tend the Garden. His son, Cain, is on the way with murder and destruction on his mind.

Having lived, cursed by God, for eons, Cain Enoch has made quite a name for himself and amassed a fortune that would make even his Grandfather envious and with it he’ll stop at nothing to find Eden and destroy. Why? So he can finally die even though it means taking the Earth, Heaven, and Hell with him.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Help me,” Lucifer gasped and held out his arms toward the people behind the veil but they were just staring at him. Then he noticed the weapons in they were holding. “Please, please,” he held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender, “I mean no harm. Just help me.”

“It’s a trick,” Persephone warned in a hiss. “He’s a liar.”

Eve looked to Gabriel and the two passed a silent nod before they looked at Persephone and spoke in unison; “He never lies.”

Then Eve finished their share thought, “The Truth has always been his weapon.”

Those words made the sight of Lucifer Morningstar in his current desperate state even harder to take.

Eve stepped forward to stand just on the side of the veil, “Lucifer, what are you doing here?” She asked in a soft voice.

The sound of his name confused him as he tried to focus on the sight of the woman before him, “You know me? Please help me. Let me in. Please. I will do anything you want.”

The fact that he did not recognize her face was understandable given his condition but still his failure brought a tinge of pain to her heart. “Be quiet and listen, we don’t have much time. If you cross the veil, if you come in here, no harm will come to you so long as you do none, but you can never leave again. You will spend all of eternity here. With us. Do you understand?”

No, he really didn’t understand her words. All he did understand was that he could not spend another night out here in the cold wasteland. He could not take another second of being hungry, thirsty, and in pain. “Please let me in.” Was all he could manage to beg.

Eve stepped back from the veil, “Come in, Lucifer, come in and be welcome but do not ever betray us.”

Lucifer stumbled through the veil with no time to spare before full sunrise. He fell to his knees and looked up at his savior through dazed eyes, “Thank you,” he whispered with all sincerity just before he passed out at her feet.

Copyright 2021 Lisa Beth Darling and Moon Mistress Publishing

About the Author:

As of this writing, I am 54 years-old, the mother of two adult daughters, grandmother to one, and wife to my husband, Roy, for the last 34 years. I live and write in my hometown of New London, CT.

I began my writing career in the 4th grade when the class was given its first-ever Creative Writing assignment. I put pencil to paper and was instantly transported to a place I knew that I would never want to leave. I have been publishing my works since 7th grade.

Early influences were Stephen King, Mary Higgins Clark, Harold Robins, Jacqueline Susan and VC Andrews. As such, my works tend to be a grand mash-up of drama, horror, suspense, action, intrigue, and, of course, intimate relations.

My stories are filled with secrets, lust, betrayal, and sometimes rage, they may keep you awake into the wee hours of the morning cheering, weeping, and captured by suspense as our heroes and heroines have their love tested by demons who reside within and without.

In my spare time I enjoy gardening and photography as well as cooking and baking. I also enjoy helping other authors bring their works to the world stage.

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The Secret of Drulea Cottage by Claire Kohler – Spotlight and Giveaway

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

Briony Fairborn, a midwife in eighteenth-century Scotland, comes from a family shrouded in scandal. Left with only one friend after her mother’s death, she has little hope of gaining any others, let alone finding a husband. Instead, Briony tries to live a quiet life and avoid her neighbors’ ridicule as much as possible.

But things in Everton take a drastic turn when a storm brings foreigners to the village docks.

On the night Santiago Mendes arrives, he comes with a broken ship, a broken leg, and a broken spirit that Briony finds herself profoundly drawn to. Her scarred heart slowly starts to open, and although Briony suspects he may be hiding something, she cannot help but dream of the possibility of love.

That is, until another stranger appears in town, intent on repaying a childhood debt. A dangerously handsome stranger who shows Briony that she’s even more different than she could have imagined. And that her past is far darker than she realized.

Magic, romance, and political intrigue collide as the secrets surrounding one Scottish woman begin to unravel. Secrets that she may not be ready to face.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Screams drew Briony from her state of shock. They pierced the darkness as terribly as the lightning hitting the ground.

Except ’tis na just hitting the ground anymore! She gasped at the sight of flames rising from the town below. Her neighbors were flying through the streets in a panic, and Briony could see why: the tailor shop and the McGuffs’ house were alight!

Fergus! Briony forgot about Niall and charged down the hill with nary a care for her own well-being. All she could focus on was the thought of the little boy potentially trapped and scared. She reached the burning house and stepped inside. “Hello! Fergus?! Is anyone in here?”

Most of the fire was above her, hungrily swallowing the thatched roof. The smoke was so thick within the confined space that Briony struggled to breathe. Only a few licks of flame had reached the floor, and they were quickly spreading toward the McGuffs’ table.

“H-Here!” came a voice. Whoever it belonged to was too hoarse to identify. Briony covered her mouth with her hand and made her way forward, edging around the blazing table.

Briony hastened into the back bedroom, her eyes flicking between the open window and two beds before landing on their target: Penelope McGuff. The woman was on the ground, facedown. The rest of the family was nowhere in sight.

“Mistress McGuff!” Briony dropped to her knees and grabbed the woman’s hand, but Penelope didn’t stir.

CRASH!

About the Author:

Claire Kohler grew up in Mooresville, NC, as the eldest of four daughters. Her love of stories began at an early age, and as a child, she could often be found borrowing way too many books from the library and scribbling away in a journal.

In 2016, Claire became a full-time middle school English teacher in a public school. In her second year of teaching, she also taught social studies. After becoming pregnant in 2018, Claire decided to shift careers and become an online ESL teacher so that she could also take care of her newborn at home.

She now lives in Statesville, NC, with her husband, two children, and three cats. She is also an active member of Christ Community Church Mooresville, where she often serves as a Bible study and small group leader.

Claire plans to continue creating exciting historical fantasy novels and potentially branching out into other genres as well.

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Out of Sight, Out of Mind by Ian Williams – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Ian Williams will be awarding a $50 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Here is a sobering statistic for you; it is expected that, if trends continue as they are now, by the year 2050 there will be more plastic in the oceans than fish. That is because researchers have estimated that over 8.3 billion tonnes of plastic has been made since the early 1950s. We use single-use plastics alarmingly often too, even though most of it ends up in landfills. Nature cannot break it down fully, so it persists long after we have buried it.

It is a worrying problem that we face as a society, one that continues to grow each day we fail to address it. Worse still, many countries simply ship their waste abroad, making it someone else’s problem instead. The UK alone exported 611,000 tonnes of plastic packaging to other countries in 2018. That creates a huge problem that can no longer be ignored.

The story Waste Not, from The Clockmaker’s Tale: and other stories tells of a world where the very same challenge has overwhelmed us. People live in homes carved into the sides of trash towers made from piles upon piles of past generations’ waste. They scavenge for food and supplies from the rubbish that surrounds them, often with unfortunate results.

That which surrounds us is inside us too. I bring up blood-filled phlegm that’s rich in colourful specks. It looks like glitter sprinkled over a gruesome murder scene in that small, gooey lump in my hand. I cough as much of it up as I can, count the plastic shards within as a matter of course, then launch it over the car—out of sight, out of mind. The blood always worries me, though.

“Don’t sweat that, Pete. I seen much worse. I once saw a woman jump from the top of a friend’s spire.”

“What?” I reply, wiping the spit from my chin.

“I’m just saying, when she hit the ground and opened up, she was full of plastic, like it had been filling up her stomach for years. Not a pretty sight, I can tell you. Blood isn’t the colour you think it is when there’s that much contamination.”

I picture it without meaning to. Only things aren’t quite right. The woman’s eyes are now the same as the ones my teddy torso once had. Her arms are cream coloured and stamped by a manufacturer, her hair is brittle and snaps easily, and her clothes are painted on. Her body is cracked open like an egg, and nothing but dry pieces of trash spill out, some of it caught up in beer can yokes, choking itself, on itself.

“I hate this place,” I say, staring at the ground in front of me as if the trash lady were right there. “I’m getting my family out of here if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

“How ‘bouts we make sure it’s not the last thing you do, hey?”

It may sound like fiction until the real situation is made clear. The ‘Trash Lady’ Pete and his friend mention is not so different from many of us. That is because plastic is now in our food as well as our environment.

Plastic is nearly impossible for nature to entirely break down, so it never fully disappears. Instead, it gets smaller and smaller until fish and farm animals mistake it for food. That is a direct path for plastic to enter our bodies, where it may stay for a long time. The journal Environmental Science and Technology puts the amount of microplastic humans may be ingesting from 39,000 to 52,000 particles a year.

This is a problem for all of us to tackle. And, if dealt with decisively, it is one we absolutely can solve. But for those in Waste Not it is already too late. Generation after generation has dumped their waste without a thought for the environment, and now it is the world they live in. Although, just maybe, there is still hope for Pete and his family.

Pete certainly thinks so.

“I hope you got this right, you crazy old bat,” I say as I chew the tough meat with my one good tooth. A green coloured treat is waiting for me in the centre. I find the remnants of a plastic straw tucked inside a burnt piece. It puts me off my meal.

I never met the woman whose home I’d found the directions in. It was during one of my more successful scavenges that I stumbled upon the place. It just sat there abandoned for anyone to discover. There hadn’t been any food inside her cramped home, just plenty of things that no one needed.

Only one thing had been worth the long climb to the top of that neighbouring spire—a drawing on the walls that promised to lead all to salvation. It wasn’t detailed in its instructions, but I’d seen the route hidden within the scrawls almost immediately.

My copy of the directions is exact, even down to the child-like drawings at the end of the route. This mysterious woman had scribbled trees and lakes, the likes of which I’d dreamt about. So, I drew them too, except in grease rather than crayon. She had created a perfect landscape there on her wall. One made of nature, not manmade detritus.

I want, more than anything, for this to be real and not the fantasy of a crazy woman. Unfortunately, the only way to know for sure is to follow it to its end.

“Past the container row, maybe a hundred yards, I’d say,” I tell myself as though it were that easy.

In The Clockmaker’s Tale: and other stories, Ian Williams takes us to the near future and beyond. From a moon base where androids conduct experiments on human test subjects, to futuristic tours of the ocean depths that hide a terrible secret; from a society governed by harsh rule of law that is enforced by AI, to a humble clockmaker tempted by the promise of increased productivity through technological augmentation.

Covering issues such as environmental decay, the end of facts and proven truths, our growing waste problem, and humanity’s tendency to divide when we should come together, this collection of six science fiction stories relates as much to our time as it does to the many possible futures.

About the Author:Ian Williams is a Science Fiction writer from the UK. He lives in a small town not far from London. Ian had a short career in the UK Court Service but was forced to quit that job when his medical condition worsened. Now, from the comfort of his wheelchair, he writes the stories he has always wanted to read. His writing spans lightyears of space, to near-future Earths; from small changes to society, to entirely new civilisations.

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Settings for Stories are Critical by Brenda Maria Smith – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Brenda Marie Smith will be awarding a $50 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Settings for Stories are Critical

The setting for a novel can be as important as any character. Climate, weather, and culture will affect character behavior every day; it can even influence their dispositions and moods.

Imagine, for instance, that you’re living through an apocalypse in Texas with no electricity. How will you feel when the temperature reaches one hundred degrees day after day and only falls to eight-five at night? You have to work long hours in the blistering sun to grow food that withers in the heat. You have no air conditioners; you don’t even have a fan except one you power with your hand. You are short on water so you can’t sufficiently hydrate yourself or dunk your head in a bucket to cool down. You need that water for drinking and cooking and fighting germs. The circumstances would make me pretty darned cranky or despondent—or both.

But if you were in a similar situation in, say, northern Canada in the winter, character concerns would be entirely different—trying to stay warm, melting snow for your water, a short growing season for your crops. When the snows melt, you might have too much water on your hands.

Or if you lived somewhere that didn’t have electricity and running water to begin with, you might not be affected at all by a solar pulse that fries the grid and causes the cars to no longer run. On an island paradise, you might not even care.

Setting is critical to your story. Many authors travel to the locales where they set their novels, and that’s a wonderful practice, if you are able and can afford it. I’m partly disabled, though, so I can’t travel. Luckily, I’ve lived a lot of different places in the past and have traveled to others, so I can set my stories in times and places I’m already familiar with.

Long ago, I lived in western Louisiana for a year and in Baton Rouge for another. I set my first novel there, Something Radiates. Louisiana is a great place for a paranormal thriller or Gothic horror, with the lush swamps and bayous; the long-legged birds and alligators; the mosquitoes so thick and slow you can wipe them off your arms; the Spanish moss dripping from the trees; the regular threat of hurricanes and tropical storms; the damp, sweltering air carrying the scent of magnolia and wisteria. It’s a beautiful, mysterious, and tragic land. In the book, the characters travel across Texas to Oklahoma City—a trip I’ve made a hundred times—and on to Boulder, Colorado, and a cave in the mountains where I’d once camped out.

For If Darkness Takes Us and its standalone sequel, If the Light Escapes (which comes out this August 24th), I set the novel in an altered version of my own neighborhood in South Austin, Texas. I did this because the drought here at the time, and the raging wildfires nearby, were part of what spurred me to write the story.

But I moved the creek that is east of my subdivision to the west next to the railroad tracks. I shoved the whole neighborhood one block to the east. I made all the yards and houses slightly bigger, with a lot of three-car garages. And, while I kept the names of the bigger streets, I changed the names of the residential ones. In the sequel, I ventured into another neighborhood a couple of miles east, but I moved things there as well, mainly a creek—seems to be a theme.

The advantages of using my own neighborhood were enormous. I’ve lived in Austin for forty years, and in this particular house for twenty-six of them. I know the climate, the weather, and the neighborhood well. I’m familiar with the mosquitoes and fire ants that will take over if you don’t regularly spray for them—organically, of course. I’ve seen forty winters here, where the outdoor temperatures can go back and forth from freezing to hot every few days. I’m used to getting big rainstorms in the spring, sometimes flooding rains that cause a great deal of damage. And hailstorms, which can ruin your roof and knock dents in your cars, can also flatten crops you’re trying to grow.

And then there are Texas summers, which usually start in April and last until mid-October. When the rain stops in mid-summer and the temps can reach 112, the grass dies, the trees struggle, and the creeks dry up, as do many wells and springs. Texas is a great setting for an apocalypse. It almost is one already, although things are fairly lush in Austin compared to western parts of the state.

Setting the novel inside the city limits in a subdivision was also a deliberate choice. I wanted it to be hard to farm the shallow soil that’s only a couple of feet thick above the limestone bedrock.

It’s not your normal apocalyptic situation on purpose. I think people would be reluctant to leave their shelters unless they are forced to, even if that shelter is no longer electrified and air-conditioned. Plus, how can they leave if they don’t have cars? The only way is to walk or ride a bike, and you can’t carry much with you that way. I’m staying home where I have a grill to cook on, clothes and blankets, pots and pans, dishes and silverware, chairs and tables and beds.

Wherever we set our stories, we need to include authentic details that make the story real to readers. We don’t need to narrate these details, but we must show our characters being affected by the weather and using the props that set the stage. It makes for better stories that will be satisfying for readers and writers alike.

In suburban Austin, Texas, Bea Crenshaw secretly prepares for apocalypse, but when a solar pulse destroys modern life, she’s left alone with four grandkids whose parents don’t return home. She must teach these kids to survive without power, cars, phones, running water, or doctors in a world fraught with increasing danger. And deciding whether or not to share food with her starving neighbors puts her morality to the test.

If Darkness Takes Us is realistic post-apocalyptic science-fiction that focuses on a family in peril, led by a no-nonsense grandmother who is at once funny, controlling, and heroic in her struggle to hold her family together with civility and heart.

The book is available now. It’s sequel, If the Light Escapes, is told in the voice of Bea’s eighteen-year-old grandson, Keno Simms, and will be released by SFK Press on August 24, 2021.

“Bea Crenshaw is one of the most unique characters in modern literature—a kick-ass Grandma who is at once tough and vulnerable, and well-prepared to shepherd her extended family through an EMP disaster, or so she thinks.”

—Laura Creedle, Award-winning Author of The Love Letters of Abelard and Lily

“There is real, identifiable humanity, subtle and sweet and sad, and events utterly shattering in their intensity.”

—Pinckney Benedict, Author of Dogs of God, Miracle Boy, and more

Enjoy an Excerpt

No matter how desperately a mother loves you, she can only put up with so much. And so, the day came when Mother Nature lashed out against us.

I understood where Nature was coming from. My family never listened to me either, which is why I didn’t tell them about the guns I’d bought.

The whole thing started with the train wreck.

On a Friday in early October, the young adults in my family went to the Oklahoma-Texas game up in Dallas—a big football rivalry around here. They dragged my husband, Hank the Crank, along with them, leaving me in South Austin with my grandchildren.

At the time, I was glad to see Hank go. He’d been making me crazy since he retired: hovering like a gnat; micromanaging my coffee-making; griping at me for reading instead of waiting attentively for him to spout something terse. Lord, I needed a break from that man. The three-day trip to Dallas seemed perfect.

I wasn’t a built-in-babysitter type of grandma, and I only saw my four grandkids together as a group on birthdays and holidays. For weeks I’d been excited about spending a long weekend alone with them.

A cruel trick sometimes, getting what you ask for.

About the Author:

2018-10-18_Brenda Marie Smith

Brenda Marie Smith lived off the grid for many years in a farming collective where her sons were delivered by midwives. She’s been a community activist, managed student housing co-ops, produced concerts to raise money for causes, done massive quantities of bookkeeping, and raised a small herd of teenage boys.

Brenda is attracted to stories where everyday characters transcend their own limitations to find their inner heroism. She and her husband reside in a grid-connected, solar-powered home in South Austin, Texas. They have more grown kids and grandkids than they can count.

Her first novel, Something Radiates, is a paranormal romantic thriller; If Darkness Takes Us and its sequel, If the Light Escapes, are post-apocalyptic science fiction.

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Dragon(e) Baby Gone by Robert Gainey – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Diane Morris is part of the thin line separating a happy, mundane world from all of the horrors of the anomalous. Her federal agency is underfunded, understaffed, and misunderstood, and she’d rather transfer to the boring safety of Logistics than remain a field agent. When a troupe of international thieves make off with a pair of dragon eggs, Diane has no choice but to ally with a demon against the forces looking to leave her city a smoldering crater. Facing down rogue wizards, fiery elementals, and crazed gunmen, it’s a race against time to get the precious cargo back before the dragon wakes up and unleashes hell.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Modern times gave way to a general idea that reason and logic were enough to stop something from dragging you into the sewers and wearing your skin to protect itself from daylight. It’s easy to see why: it doesn’t happen to a lot of people, therefore it must not happen. I see it all the time, people who say things like “I’ve never seen a ghost, so they must not exist.”

Oh yeah? Because if spirits did exist, they’d all be tripping over their ghost dicks to haunt you? Do you understand the preternatural forces that conspire, the circumstances that line up, to create any kind of ghost? Let alone one that shows up in your room at night and moans about revenge or betrayal or rattles some chains and teaches you a valuable lesson about being selfish?

“Well, there’s no such thing as Bigfoot. All those pictures are super blurry and grainy,” they say, their voices nasally and snobby, like all the knowledge of the world is pumped directly into their tiny brains through their tiny phones. Go stand out in a remote Colorado forest one night. Turn off your phone, open your eyes and ears, and wait. When you feel those eyes watching, and when you know, deep in that primitive monkey brain, way, way down inside, that there’s more than just the animals you have names for sharing that clearing with you, then you can call me to tell me that there’s no such thing as Bigfoot.

That is, if you live to turn your phone back on again.

About the Author:

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Robert Gainey is a born and raised Floridian, despite his best efforts. While enrolled at Florida State University and studying English (a language spoken on a small island near Europe), Robert began volunteering for the campus medical response team, opening up a great new passion in his life. Following graduation, he pursued further training through paramedic and firefighting programs, going on to become a full time professional firefighter in the State of Florida. He currently lives and works in Northeast Florida with his wife and dogs, who make sure he gets walked regularly. Robert writes near-fetched fantasy novels inspired by the madness and courage found in everyday events.

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Dutybound by Mark Aaron Alvarez II – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Mark Aaron Alvarez II will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The world was their creation until they sought to destroy it.

Dutybound is the story of Terestria and its Virtues, heirs of nobility forced to face the Sins of their forefathers and bring their world from the brink of Darkness. Among them is Lucia Sanoon, High Maiden to the province of Moz and chosen of the Light Wings. The ancient relic, bestowed upon a long-forgotten civilization by the Light itself, was forged to harbor the Light’s essence if ever Terestria’s balance were threatened by the Darkness’ desire to corrupt the Light’s most-prized creation, Life. If successful and the long-standing covenant between the Light and its Protectors were ever to be broken, the Darkness would be free to roam Terestria and reclaim the land it had a hand in creating, bringing death and destruction to every corner of the world.

But as long as there is Light, there is hope. With the help of the Light Wings and its power, Lucia must heed its call to assemble the Light’s Virtues and lead them into battle against the very Sins that seek to destroy their world. But finding the four will not be easy, for much of the knowledge is lost and the understanding of one’s own morality is the only key to unlocking the power each of them holds within.

A story of faith and morality, Dutybound will lead you through a journey of self-discovery as our heroes face conflict from outside and within themselves. Duty, desire, envy, hope, hate, love, pride, and temperance all are challenged within this series in an epic tale that is sure to have you pondering your own true nature.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Today was a day of tragedy, although most did not know it. It was a dark, cloudless night. Not one sound broke throughout the grand-white city of Moz, sparkling like a diamond within the valley of a vast mountain range. Not a single ray of light could shed an ounce of joy upon the city, for it was already condemned by the haze that shrouded it. The mist hovered in the silence of the night, stagnant with the suffering of the land that lay below it. All the while, the people of Moz rested, unaware that all they held most dear teetered on the brink of ruin.

“Oh.” Ara sighed as she sat alone in a muddled study. Her face flushed as her eyes scanned over a piece of parchment at the base of a broad window. Her irises, like embers, were so round and passionate, glistening almost red as she eagerly inspected the letter her beloved had left her. But in that moment, as she realized what had happened, her eyes began to quiver, becoming trapped within garnet walls of fear. After everything they had faced, Stello had abandoned her, leaving their family broken.

About the Author: Mark A. Alvarez II is a Hispanic-American born in Houston, Texas. He’s a graduate of Texas State University, where he studied public relations and mass communication. He was an apprentice at the NEW Apprenticeship where he was certified in digital marketing. He is the CEO of Light Wings Promotions LLC, a digital marketing and creative branding agency in San Antonio, Texas, where Mark currently resides.

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The Hardest Part About Writing by Darby Harn – Guest Blog and Giveeway

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

The hardest part about writing is…

Doubt. There is no greater impediment to writing, or any creative endeavor, than self-doubt. That voice in your head that says You can’t do this, or I’m not good enough, or No one will care, is the only antagonist in the story of your being a writer. You’re going to face many challenges – the more you do, the more success you’re having – but the first, best, and last villain in your journey is your own doubt.

I wrote A Country of Eternal Light largely in 2015 and 2016. I sought agents and publishers, without success, through 2019. I also struggled with whether to even do so. This is a deeply personal book to me, a great creative risk in my telling this story from the perspective of an Irish woman, and I wasted a lot of time thinking it had no value at all. It took me years to find the courage to publish it now in 2021.

In some way I still doubt its value, and mine, but I also know its worth. This is a story that resonates with people when they read it. More than that, this is why I write. It’s to tell stories. It’s to share stories and connect with people, on some level. I have to fight that doubt, that indecision, that fear, every day. Some days it’s debilitating. What is the point? Does anyone care? Am I making a fool of myself?

But this isn’t the voice you need to listen to. As a writer, you are living in language. Your greatest asset is your pair of ears. Listen to the world. The way people talk. How they talk, what they say, what they don’t say. Listen to the rush of the river and the creak of the trees. Listen to the whine of the rocks as the waves crash into them. Focus on the world and all its music and you won’t hear that nagging doubt so much anymore. All those voices you collect in the world will keep in your writing, and keep you plenty distracted.

A rogue black hole tears apart the solar system. Mairead’s life is already in pieces.

The Earth has less than a year to survive.

Asteroids rain hell; earthquakes rattle cities; manic tides swamp coasts. Mairead intends to give herself to the erratic waves that erode her remote Irish island, the same that claimed her child. When Gavin, an American, arrives to scatter his father’s ashes, she becomes torn between wanting for life and death.

Despite the tides, fuel shortages, and closing borders that threaten to trap him on the island, Gavin can’t seem to scatter the ashes. He doesn’t know how to let go any more than Mairead does and they find a strange comfort in their confusion.

Their affair draws Mairead back to the world of the living, but the longer Gavin stays, the more it seems there might be a future for them. There is no future.

Life closes down around them. The world they know shreds. Life drains into an inescapable abyss. And yet Mairead fights, both the gravity of her grief and the restless, dissonant desire to find some kind of peace no matter how brief.

Enjoy an Excerpt

There is success in death.

Fish flop in confusion as the sea peels back to the mainland. Dinner tonight. Breakfast tomorrow, if I’m thinking of tomorrow. I leave them in the goopy, gasping muck. I keep walking. I am far now, farther than I can run when the tide returns. Bereft water jostles in pitted rock. Strands of seaweed coil around my feet. I feel your pull.

Here I am.

This buzz in the air. The tide coming back, surely. I look up, expectant. Meteors rip through the blue, faster than any wish can catch. Broken stalks of rainbows on the horizon. Comets like white lies. Three more today, competing with the big one they call Medusa, with all her snake tails.

I wait for my success.

The sea must have run off to the States with everyone else. That buzz again. Louder. Closer. The turboprop from the mainland comes out of nowhere. The plane hasn’t been over in weeks. Most days, high tide swamps the eastern horn of the island, the bit of Inishèan that can accommodate a runway. Right next to the cemetery.

Take offs and landings.

The sea is out. The plane is able to make a landing. He might have medicine, the pilot. Food. He’ll have room, for the trip back to Galway. Someone will get delivered today.

About the Author:Darby Harn studied at Trinity College, in Dublin, Ireland, as part of the Irish Writing Program. He is the author of the sci-fi superhero novel EVER THE HERO. His short fiction appears in Strange Horizons, Interzone, Shimmer, The Coffin Bell and other venues.

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Tools of a Thief by D. Hale Rambo – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. D. Hale Rambo will be awarding 1 of 3 print copies of the book (US only) to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

How do you stop being a thief? Zizy assumed quitting her job, stealing from her boss, and flitting magically across the continent was one way to give it a go. Getting in and out of sticky situations is typically Zizy’s specialty. A little spellwork here, a pinch of deception there, and she’s home free. Quick-fingered, fast-talking, and charming the gnome knows traveling across a shattered continent won’t be easy. Still, she has the skills to keep herself from getting killed.

Too bad she was followed on her one-way trip. Pressed into a mission she can’t say no to, Zizy feels desperate, out of place, and as lonely as before. But when she meets a charming book hoarder with bold curiosity, Zizy can’t help but want to bring her along on this one last job. She’ll just hide her past, her present, and complicating info about herself. What could go wrong?

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Zizy was taught growing up that expanding the Vault had been a request of the gnomes creator, the Trickster. The gnomes had built three glorious cities over the course of the last hundred or so years. Arovein, their original city, Zumi to the southwest along the coast, and Hadu on the northwest coast. All built in the tunnels and caverns of the Vault with small trading settlements above ground. But everything else after that had been gnome ingenuity. The waterworks pipeline, the spellwork-powered carts, the mechwork creatures—all made life grand for them. Enabled them to focus on their particular pursuits and research without worry for the busy motions of just living life.

She missed the clanking of metal as someone walked down the street testing out some new contraption. She missed her favorite tavern. Discussing over mugs of brewbeer what new idea a friend had thought up and watching—or sometimes being—the one who had agreed to be a tester. She missed being in charge of her daily life. Zizy let the pang of homesickness for Zumi and her old life wash over her.

What the minds of her people could come up with would be mesmerizing to a Brix. Simply astonishing. Or frightening, if they were ignorant sticks in the mud. She had encountered many like that since she entered their lands, those who saw her and understood she wasn’t like them. Some had been polite and ignored it when interacting with her. But others, scared beyond sense, had been more harmful and even attacked her unprovoked. So she’d tried to pass straight through, not standing out, with only mild altercations like yesterday’s.

But then there was Laysa. Something about this Brix was different, intriguing, and though Zizy had thought, as she drank in the inn the evening before, that the best way to avoid Emba’s bad side was just to do as she said, the spark of defiance she felt every time she saw Emba had reared its head. Her mind returned to Laysa off and on all night. The way she didn’t hesitate to ask and answer. The volley of words she seemed happy to spill. Zizy sensed she could talk for ages, and Zizy wasn’t unhappy, she mused, at the prospect of talking to her again. Around in circles Zizy went, drink after drink, until she just decided to do what she was best at: ignore all reasonable suggestions and do what she wanted anyway.

About the Author:

D. Hale Rambo is an avid reader, Pathfinder/Dungeons & Dragons player, bubble bath connoisseur, and author. She has been writing and creating other worlds since she was old enough to mark them on her bedroom wall. As a dungeon master and in life, D. Hale Rambo believes in the fun of morale bonuses, inspiration, and always using cover. Get updates on the series, say hello, or debate with her about the versatility of gnomes at her website.

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Sorcerer’s Reborn: Earth by Richard B. – Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Richard B. will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Sorcerers Reborn is Book One in a series that begins here on Earth and takes you on a new and exciting journey in the world of Sorcerers, Dragons, Elves and more.

Midnight stops. She feels something she hasn’t felt in three thousand years, something that possesses magic. It’s to the east in the mountains. She runs toward the beacon. She stands in front of a sheer stone wall hundreds of feet tall. There is a cave three quarters of the way up where the magic resides. If she tries to reach whatever is up there, it could potentially kill her. She’s come this far, but her journey isn’t over yet.

Midnight was exiled to earth with six Sorcerers by the evil Sorcerer Tay’Ron. She is a creature of magic, created by magic. She holds the gift of Sorcery from six Sorcerers who have passed on, and she is on a mission to find people on earth who are worthy of possessing this power. Her legacy must continue. Time is of the essence.

She possesses the gift of Sorcery. Midnight is a creature derived from magic, a fairy creature created from magic. She is not a Sorcerer. The six other Sorcerers are the six she carries inside of herself.

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“Midnight is a creature of magic, and she has the ability to absorb the gift from one who is dying. She was able to store each of their gifts separately inside herself. Perhaps that is why she still lives today, thousands of years later.

“…Midnight found the two of you and decided you were worthy of possessing one of these gifts, so she gave you something others can only dream of having. Midnight gave you the gift of sorcery.”

Susan and Samantha looked at Jason, eyes wide, and then looked across the table at Midnight.

“Do you really think we are going to believe this bullshit? Your story is very touching, but you are a writer. This sounds like it belongs in one of your novels. Come Sam, I think it’s time we left.” Susan said.

“You have good reason to doubt what you hear Susan. On this world, sorcery is considered, by most, to be fantasy fiction. I am Midnight and I converse through telepathy. On my world, magic is a common thing. Jason has told my story truthfully, and I understand that it scares you to think that it might be true. Take some time; think about what you’ve heard, discuss it together.”

Both women stood, glared at Jason and Midnight, and turned toward the door.

“I have a question you should think about before leaving. Why did the two of you come here?” Jason asked.

The twins gave him a sour look before walking out the door.

“That went like you expected. What do we do now? Sit here and wait?”

“They will not leave, trust me. You had doubts about sorcery when I first talked to you didn’t you? They are scared as you were. This knowledge is not easy to comprehend, as you know. Give them time to talk about what they heard here.”

Jason didn’t argue with her as he gathered up the remains of their meal, putting everything on the carts. Once he was finished putting leftovers away, he sat down and concentrated on locating the twins.

Jason found Midnight easily; she was in the other room, probably looking out the window. He detected two more spots of magic outside. The twins were sitting in their truck, and hopefully discussing what they had been told.
…………

“Sue, we can’t just leave,” Samantha said. “He is right to ask, why did we come? We walked away from everything to come here looking for answers to questions we needed answered. We came looking for something new, something different. This is beyond our wildest dreams. At least we can, maybe, look around, and give this some more thought.”

“Sam, I’m scared. Sorcery? Who would have thought that this was even possible? Am I wrong to be skeptical?” Samantha didn’t answer.

She needed more information, and they were not going to get it sitting in the truck.

About the Author: Rick (Richard B.) Ogle was born in 1951 in Northern Ontario. This is his first appearance in the writing world. He worked for forty-five plus years as a journeyman fabricator/welder. In 1978 Rick wrote a short story titled “Storms” that turned into two books. His work always came first, so writing took the back burner. Writing of Sorcerers Reborn began in late 2000, but again work came first, so the book was not revisited until he was force into retirement in 2013.

In 1998 Rick went back to school to learn something that would get him out of his chosen trade as a fabricator/welder. In 1999 he spent six months as an adult literacy tutor and found that was rewarding when he saw the progress each student was making. He currently
holds an Adult Instructors Diploma. He completed a six-month course to obtain an A+ computer technicians’ certification. He has an AutoCAD certificate in drafting and design. He instructed classes for Microsoft Word, Excel, PowerPoint, and Access at the North Cariboo Community Skills Center in Quesnel BC.

Rick is self-taught in HTML (Hyper Text Markup Language) code and built his website in 1998 while he was in school. He named his website “Poems and Short Stories by Richard B”. That website is still going today.

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{This Tale is True} by Deborah Adams – Spotlight and Giveaway

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They don’t make goddesses like they used to….

For eons they ruled, but modern times have been rough on the ancient deities— their temples collapsed, their worshippers wandered off, and their purposes were made redundant by industry and technology. And the Fates aren’t finished with them yet.

Mere days before the annual renewal of their immortality is to occur, the goddess of youth disappears. Without her and her restorative nectar, time and age will catch up with the goddesses. In the blink of an eye, they will shrivel and die, leaving the world to fend for itself, unless a skeptical mortal can find a way to save both worlds.

combines the humor one expects from Adams with magical realism and a dash of literary fiction, resulting in a boisterous read that pushes back against the boundaries of genre.

“Deborah Adams offers goddesses in peril and a protagonist who dares all to save the immortals in a wild, wacky, and wonderful romp. Imaginative, creative, fabulous fiction.” ~ Carolyn Hart, author of the otherworldly Bailey Ruth series

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“A squirrel in the toilet is not an omen.” Cybil felt this bore repeating. “It’s just a rodent whose curiosity proved to be more than it could handle.”

Evie, her roommate and current audience, unlocked their apartment door and stepped inside, then closed the door and engaged the deadbolt as soon as Cybil had joined her. Pre-emptive security was important to Cybil, and she’d worked hard to instill good habits in her new roommate. Despite her trusting nature, Evie tried to comply with Cybil’s insistent rule about staying safe, although Evie was certain that the real dangers in this world could not be restrained by man-made mechanisms.

“I never said the squirrel was an omen,” Evie insisted.

“You didn’t disagree when the wacky witches were putting forth that very notion,” Cybil reminded her. “If you don’t speak out against the nonsense, you are in tacit agreement.”

“They have a right to believe whatever they like.” Pushing back the hood of her purple velvet cloak, Evie ran the fingers of one hand through her nut-brown hair. “And surely you can see why they thought it had meaning. It’s hard to believe the squirrel just happened to pop up in Belinda’s toilet at the very moment we invoked the Great Goddess.”

“It’s harder to believe that a goddess of Hera’s standing would send her RSVP through a bushy-tailed rat.”

“You never know,” Evie said with sincerity. “Goddesses don’t think or act like mortals.”

“I daresay you’re right about that,” Cybil conceded.

About the Author:

Deborah Zenha Adams, recipient of the Macavity and Flair Awards, is an author, a naturalist, and a yoga educator. In {This Tale Is True}, a work of magical realism, she unveils the fate of ancient Roman goddesses as they struggle to survive in the 21st century.

The seven novels in her Jesus Creek mystery series were published under her own name, and other works appear under a variety of pseudonyms. She is also the author of numerous short stories and essays.

She has been a guest lecturer at numerous events, including Southern Festival of Books, Appalachian Studies Conference, Warioto Regional Library Board of Trustees Conference, Southeastern Booksellers Association, Georgia Library Association Convention, Emory University, East Tennessee State University Writers Program, and many others. She is a lifetime member of the Southern Literary Coalition.

Deborah-Zenha is available for interviews, speaking, and author events. Her signature workshops include Write Your Memoir (even if you aren’t a writer) and Write Your Yoga Memoir.

Learn more about the author and her books on her website.

Website

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