Ten Things Most People Don’t Know About Charles O’Keefe – Guest Blog and Giveaway

October 4, 2017 By 87 Comments


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Charles O’Keefe will be awarding a $15 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.

10 Things most people don’t know about me

First off thank you for being a part of my blog tour, I really appreciate it.

Ten things most people don’t know about me. This is an interesting topic because I am an open and honest guy (not all the time of course). Everyone has a private side to their life but I’m willing to give readers a little glimpse into what makes me tick.

10. When I write fiction it has to be double-spaced on a computer

I think this was drilled into me when I was junior high and high school (I do also have a degree in English). I know that when a story/book is finished it will be single-spaced but the look of that drives me bonkers! When I write it just looks so much better to have it double-spaced. The same also applies for writing comments, you need the space. I used to do stories, when I was around thirteen, on paper. I don’t know about you but my handwriting is atrocious. So much so that if I write fast enough even I would have trouble making it out. It’s one of the reasons I got a computer when I was fourteen and never looked back. Also if you write it on paper and the paper is lost, it’s gone forever. At least with something on a computer there is hopefully a copy (I love Dropbox and would highly recommend it for backups) that you can recover.

9. I really hate touching or having anything near my eyes.

Most people have this fear I think, something you are told often as a child is to be careful with your eyes around anything sharp. I’ve had glasses since I was eight and when I was nineteen I tried contacts. I was so freaked out with touching my eyes all the time that I had to give them up. So yes, getting something caught in my eye can be a nightmare for me.

8. I’m a cat person, always have been, always will be.

Dogs drool, cat’s rule! Seriously, dogs are ok but a cat is so much easier to care for, no walking or letting them outside to do their business. Cats have (in my experience) much nicer fur, can purr, and show you affection when they truly need it (or when you really need it). Dogs are too easy to please, (most) cats make you work for it.

7. I’m very picky with music, mostly I like the same groups/artists that I did when I was 16.

I’m a firm believer that anything made after 2000 is 90% crap. For example Kayne, utter garbage!

6. I can’t stand the sound of a baby/child crying

Like nails on a chalkboard to me, I’ll leave a store/place if I can when a child acts up.

5. I love oranges above any other food

When I say oranges I mean Clementines or Mandarins, I have to be able to peel them with my fingers. It’s one of the reasons I love going to Florida so much, they have the best oranges and orange juice I’ve ever had.

4. I’ve loved Star Trek since I was four years old.

I’m a lifelong Trekker. My friend kept a postcard I sent where I mention Star Trek, it was dated 1980. That doesn’t mean I loved every incarnation, some of the shows and movies are terrible but I’ve stuck by it. I was even President of a Star Trek fan club in university.

3. I always look for a window seat whenever I’m in any public place.

I love to read, write, watch stuff and play games on my iPad but I always want to take breaks and look out the window. I will pay extra for a window seat and I will go around a whole library if I means finding a seat near a window.

2. I prefer to listen to books rather than read them.

I think this goes back to my childhood. Having a few drinks and having a good story read to you is bliss (Audible rules!).

1. I hate cold, snowy weather above all else in the world.

This is the reason I go somewhere warm every winter (unless something really strange happens). I know Florida gets bad press sometimes but I love it there, I plan to retire there as soon as I can afford it.

Here you’ll find nine new short-stories, some which have been from my life, or things that could have happened. One is inspired from the many games of Dungeons and Dragons I’ve played over twenty years while another is from the Call of Cthulhu role-playing game. Some are even some from other authors, who kindly contributed to my collection.

As a treat for fans of my series, I have included six deleted chapters, two from each of the three Newfoundland Vampire novels, which have been all cleaned up and have been made better than ever for your reading pleasure.

I have also included not one, but two chapters from the upcoming fourth book in the Newfoundland Vampire series, War of the Fangs. I’ve filled this collection with tales that will make you laugh, or will scare you, and will hopefully make you think a little about the world around us and the people in it.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“I’m not leaving you behind, no man gets left behind, GET MOVING!” Marlon screamed the last part at the top of his lungs and they bolted forward. It wasn’t easy with all the roots and holes in the ground. Larry fell once as did Marlon, painfully twisting his ankle so that now Larry had to help him but they moved on, spotting one mark on a tree and chalk on another. The mist had started to rise, it was at their ankles now.

“Mar I can’t feel my feet, it feels as if I’m running on blocks of ice. We need to get out!” Marlon looked about frantically, the trees were still thick, he couldn’t see the tall grass from where they had started this morning. Everything felt tight, his chest felt like it was going to explode, his heart felt like it would leap out through his throat at any second. The trees seems to be closing in on them, he felt like he was back in France, just waiting for the first bullet to split the air.

Marlon looked down for a second, legs are numb up to my knees but somehow I’m moving, I don’t feel the pain in my ankle. “We’ll get out, you are the best woodsman I’ve ever seen. I know you can do it.” Larry nodded and Marlon was glad to see a small smile creep onto one side of his face, he pointed with his right arm to a mark, an arrow pointing to the east, the way they were going. You better be, he thought, I’ll be damned if I die in a forest by some mist, I made it out of the war, I’ll make it out of here!

About the Author:Charles O’Keefe lives in the beautiful province of Newfoundland, Canada, with his wife and two feline ‘children,’ Jude and Eleanor. He is a part-owner of a beauty wholesale business. He enjoys many hobbies and activities that include reading, gaming, poker, Pilates, Dungeons and Dragons, and of course, fantasizing about vampires. Charles is the author of three books in the Newfoundland Vampire series, but this is his first collection of short-stories. Look for the fourth Newfoundland Vampire book sometime in the near future.

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Just Off the Path by Weston Sullivan – Spotlight and Giveaway

October 4, 2017 By 23 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Weston Sullivan will be awarding a $10 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.

 

Hansel never asked to be a hero. He never wanted to fall in love with Rapunzel, Queen of the East. He didn’t ask to be raised by Gothel the Wretch, and he certainly never wanted to be credited for her arrest. But more than any of that, Hansel never wanted to lie: but he did. He lied about everything. He thought that he was done with it all when he and his sister Gretel retreated into the woods to reclaim their land, but he should have known better.
Hansel needs to find a way to fix this, otherwise he will be responsible for Grimm’s destruction, or that is what he thinks. As Hansel isn’t the only liar in Grimm.

Enjoy an Excerpt

The Girl in the Red Cape

My rude brother’s name is Hansel,” Gretel said, pushing her way past a particularly thorny vine. “And I’m Gretel.”

“How am I rude?” Hansel asked, his voice sharp. He wasn’t in the mood to argue. Their hunt was fruitless, and it was cold enough that his breath rushed from his nostrils and plumed into the air above his head. “I saved her life, didn’t I?”

The girls walked ahead of him, Ceara only steps ahead of Gretel. Every few seconds, she stopped to gather her bearings. They were fast friends; Hansel knew Gretel was intrigued by Ceara’s fearlessness. She walked the thickets as if they were a second home to her, leaving Hansel behind to worry about the things that hid in the darkness. He kept his bow drawn. It felt as though the briar was pulling him back and with each step he took, he could feel the thorns prick his skin, snag his clothes, like Grimm itself was assaulting him. Touching the thorns was unavoidable. His skin was on fire after the first few steps, and tiny pools of blood formed all over his body. Gretel was bleeding, too. But not Ceara, since her cloak shielded her from the thickets.

Gretel shoved her elbow into his ribcage. “It’s rude not to introduce yourself.”

“It’s rude to call someone else rude,” Hansel retorted. To his relief, he saw the light of the moon streaking through the overgrowth ahead. The three of them shimmied their way through the final layer of hanging briar and back into the woods. Hansel sucked in a breath of air. It tasted clean, crisp and cold, instead of stagnant and sour. Leaving the thickets was like taking a plunge into the river on the hottest day in summer. His muscles loosened and he strapped his bow on his back. They weren’t home, but they were safe.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, until they could see The Path. When they passed a tall tree, Ceara stopped and placed her palm on its trunk, admiring it. And when they reached a particularly tall tree, she stopped.

“Have you ever wondered why the trees shed their leaves in the winter?” she asked. “I don’t know about you two, but when it starts to get cold, I put more clothes on. I certainly don’t get naked and stand in the middle of the forest.” Her thought was interrupted by the sound of hooves in the distance.
Hansel squinted, looking off into the distance. Before he saw anything, Ceara tackled him to the ground. He mumbled an angry demand for explanation, but Ceara shushed him, pointing.

Five horses raced across the worn trail that cut through the wood. The horsemen were spots of light in the gray-brown haze of early winter. They wore gold and white—the colors of the Eastern region, Rapunzel’s territory. When they passed in front of him, he noted their tunics were dirty and their swords drawn. After they disappeared behind a wall of pale trees, he stood and brushed himself off.

“Why did you do that?” he asked.

Ceara shook the leaves from her cloak. “They’re tracking The Wolf.”

“So?” Hansel asked.

“You don’t want them to spot you anywhere near him,” Ceara replied. “All three regions are out for his head.”

“We’re friends of Rapunzel,” Hansel said. “She knows we hunt here. No harm would come to any of us.”

Ceara’s eyes widened emphatically. She closed her cloak over her bodice, her wicker basket producing the illusion of pregnancy. “It doesn’t matter.”

Gretel stepped between them, taking charge of the conversation. “Why are all three regions after him?”

“They think he’s the one who’s committed all the murders,” Ceara said. She leaned in close, even though there wasn’t another soul in sight.

“Murders?” Gretel asked.

“You haven’t heard?”

The word murder made Hansel cringe. He felt cold and vulnerable with it floating in the air around him. “We need to keep going. It will be dark soon.”
The girls followed him, but they hunched over like housewives in the market square, gossiping among themselves.

“What murders?” Gretel repeated.

“There’ve been murders all across Grimm for weeks. Close to twenty of them, at least!”

“I have no words.” Gretel shook her head. “There’s never been anything like this in Grimm. Not since…”

“Gothel,” Ceara finished her sentence. “I know.”


About the Author:

After graduating with a BA in Creative Writing from the University of South Florida in 2017, Weston Sullivan moved to New York City to live and write in the heart of the industry. In late 2016, he began working as an intern in the submissions department of BookFish Books. His short story, “On the Hillside”, won the Anspaugh Award for Fiction in February of 2017, and his novel, JUST OFF THE PATH, is due for release in early September. 

He likes to believe that he is in charge of his own destiny, but at the end of the day, he knows that he was born to serve his two beloved cats.

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The King’s Own by W. Marshall – Spotlight and Giveaway

September 28, 2017 By 25 Comments


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. W. Marshall will be awarding a $50 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 King’s Own are as feared as they are ruthless, doing all of those hard, and sometimes terrible, things necessary to ensure the safety of the realm. Owing allegiance to the King alone, they are his spies, his assassins, and his advisors. They exist to walk in the shadows, to enforce the King’s will, to change the course of entire wars, and to root out dissenters. They live without family, in service to the crown, unknown and unsung.

A young man conscripted to fight in a war far away from home. Blood and loss tempered with hope and a vow. Recruited into the King’s Own, he must learn quickly to do whatever it takes to serve the kingdom so that others can live their lives in relative peace and safety. But just how far will he go to keep his oath, especially when the King is murdered?

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Alright,” Commodus said. “I guess I’ll be the bait. I’ll just stroll right up there and announce myself and hope they don’t riddle me with arrows.” I smirked, pointing off to the left to show Samarra where I wanted her to scout. “You’ll be fine, old timer,” I said, giving him a familiar nod. I turned and slipped off into the thick woods, circling far enough around to avoid detection by the sentries. Samarra had proven to be even more skilled than I was at infiltration like this, moving quietly and quickly, unseen and unheard. Years of practice had made me an expert, but she took to it as naturally as walking. I blended with the shadows, slipping among the trees as easily as a panther, my eyes searching for my targets. There. Not very well-hidden to the trained eye. My hand clamped over the first sentry’s mouth, my dagger slitting his throat. Two more followed, their bows showing me they were indeed there to kill us if things turned sour for the rebels. Quickly then, back to Commodus, before he decided to pull something stupid and become a martyr by attempting to rescue the Princess by himself.

About the Author:W. Marshall was born in Florida, but found his home when he moved to Colorado. He is a lover of movies, books, dogs, science fiction, fantasy, and military history. His debut novel, The King’s Own, is a work of dark fiction that asks hard questions as it examines the life and labors of the protagonist.

In his free time, he enjoys running, reading a wide array of fiction, and writing science fiction and fantasy.

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Dark Genius by H. Peter Alesso – Spotlight and Giveaway

September 15, 2017 By 7 Comments


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author 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.

To the insatiably curious—science is the greatest adventure. So, when scientists at CERN announced the discovery of the ‘God’ particle in 2012, all the world wondered, “How did they find it?”

A decade later, despite his past academic failures and egregious family circumstance, Andrew Lawrence embarked on a journey of discovery, competing against rival scientists to be the first to solve the greatest unsolved mystery of the universe—dark matter—and win the ultimate prize; the Nobel.

Emma Franklin, a PhD candidate at Harvard, developed software for detecting particle reactions using a quantum computer. To the amazement and excitement of the scientific community, her work revealed two possible bumps in the energy curve that were not predicted by any established theory.

At MIT, Lawrence created a model that predicted the scattering processes of a dark matter supersymmetry particle. Though his early work was disparaged, he improved his theory and found that it predicted the data Emma had discovered. Their professional collaboration deepened into a personal relationship, but when critical data was stolen, Emma found evidence that incriminated Lawrence. Though she withheld the impeaching material from the authorities, she felt she could no longer trust him.

Despite their troubled partnership, and notwithstanding the complexities of nature, Lawrence and Emma persevered against the egos, jealousy, and envy of rivals, on their exhilarating quest to find the ‘Holy Grail’ of physics

Enjoy an Excerpt

I thought all was lost—now I have a second chance.

With a profound sense of relief, Andrew Lawrence slide his tablet into his shoulder holster and walked briskly along the Boston sidewalk. His past academic failures and egregious family circumstances were behind him. He was ready for a fresh start.

Tall, slender, and dark-haired, he listened to the clicking and clacking of shuffling shoes on the pavement as students jostled alongside him. The hint of autumn from the cool morning air brought a frenzy of activity to the sprawling campuses of both MIT and Harvard which nurtured a flourishing rivalry among their ambitious students. He could feel the undercurrent of tension for the start of the fall term.

By the time he crossed Longfellow Bridge, his adrenaline was pumping. He noticed several eight-man sculls already rowing down the Charles River, their school colors plainly visible. Squinting his eyes against the glare, he could make out the MIT and Harvard boats vying for the lead, stroke by stroke.

Striding across the rambling campus, his lips concealed a secret smile as he contemplated a revolutionary solution to a problem he had been daydreaming about. When he swung around a corner, he ran smack-dab into a young woman. Her armload of books, papers, and assorted technology flew into the air and scattered across the walkway.

“Sor . . . sorry.”

“You should be,” the woman said, her face screwed into a tight scowl. “Your head was in the clouds.”

Lawrence opened his mouth, but before he could speak, she pointed down and said, “See what you’ve done?”

She stooped and frantically tried to corral her absconding belongings.

“Let me help,” said Lawrence, grasping some loose papers about to blow away.

Spying her tablet on the grass, she exclaimed, “Oh no! All my work.”

Carefully, she picked up the device and turned it on, tapping her fingers impatiently until the screen lit up. She heaved a sigh and looked Lawrence directly in the eyes. “You’re lucky. Sooo . . . lucky.”

Lawrence mumbled another apology and helped her pick up the last few books.

As she struggled to reorganize her treasures, Lawrence brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes and for the first time cast an appraising glance at the young woman.

She was attractive.

It wasn’t that she was a striking beauty—though her smooth white skin, olive green eyes, and classic profile complemented the hazelnut hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Nor was her carriage especially eye-catching, though she displayed an appealing youthful vitality. No, what seemed most appealing was her confident determined poise, as if she possessed a special hidden talent.

“You really should use a backpack.”

“The lining ripped,” she retorted.

Seeing the logos on her tablet’s screen, Lawrence asked, “Harvard? Math?”

“I can tell by your tone that you’re MIT,” she said, her eyes flashing.

Lawrence grinned, “Physics.” As an afterthought, he asked, “What are you doing on this campus?”

“Well, Mr. Physics, that’s none of your concern.”

Something in the way she said it, caused him to laugh.

They faced each other in a stand-off for a long moment—saying nothing.

Then the young woman heaved a sigh, gathered her possessions to her chest, and brushed past him.

Lawrence watched her figure disappear into the crowd.

Damn. I didn’t get her name.

As he turned to leave, something shiny on the ground caught his eye. It was a flash drive.

Picking it up, he spun around and called, “Wait!”

But she was gone.

He looked at the memory stick, thinking . . .

I’ll have to crack her password, if I’m going to see her again.

About the Author: As a scientist and author specializing in technology innovation, H. Peter Alesso has over twenty years research experience at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory (LLNL). As Engineering Group Leader at LLNL he led a team of scientists and engineers in innovative applications across a wide range of supercomputers, workstations, and networks. He graduated from the United States Naval Academy with a B.S. and served in the U.S. Navy on nuclear submarines before completing an M.S. and an advanced Engineering Degree at M.I.T. He has published several software titles and numerous scientific journal and conference articles, and he is the author/co-author of ten books.

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The Hardest Part About Writing Is The Rejection by Leslie D. Soule – Guest Blog and Giveaway

August 14, 2017 By 10 Comments


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Leslie D. Soule will be awarding $10 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.

The Hardest Part About Writing Is The Rejection
Leslie D. Soule

The hardest part of writing is the rejection, and no one tells you that when you start out, starry-eyed, believing that the hardest part will be getting published. Getting published is a goal that is attainable. But what happens when it doesn’t come right away – when you keep on submitting and submitting, and all you get is a pile of rejection letters? Then the rejection begins to eat away and you give yourself doubts about your writing – is it good enough? Will I ever gain the attention of a publisher?

Then there’s the rejection that comes after you get published – you get bad reviews on something you’ve worked so hard on. And then it creeps again into your psyche and you wonder where you went wrong. It gnaws at every corner of your brain, and keeps you up at night. Not all of us can write like Stephen King or George R. R. Martin. You understand that. Doesn’t everyone else? You wonder why their standards are so high.

But the real lesson here is that of PERSEVERANCE. You write not for the masses, but because you have something to say. And in time, you learn to brush off the rejection and keep on going, because you are not at a dead-end but a bump in a road that leads further on. And those negative reviews won’t matter when you’ve written ten books, years from now. All that matters is that you’re better than you were yesterday – that you can look back on your past writing and have learned from it, and then the reviews just melt into the background – just so much white noise, after the fear of rejection has run out of you. And you keep going. But that’s something that has to be experienced, rather than taught. That’s the hardest part.

With five crystals to destroy, in order to rob the dark lord Malegaunt of his power, Ash Kensington’s path is set. She begins a quest with the talking cat, Greymalkin, and her wyvern, Slick. But when she meets up with the handsome dragon slayer, Draeon, her senses overwhelm her, and she becomes distracted. Will she be able to destroy the crystals in time to challenge Malegaunt?

Enjoy an Excerpt:

Ash wasn’t so sure, and her breath caught in her throat. I feel like this is some dreadful portent. Still, she dusted off her cloak, throwing it over her arm. I’ll have to find a spot for it to dry when we get back to the house. She fixed her chestnut hair up into a ponytail and followed Greymalkin over a carpet of snow, brushing snowflakes away from her pale face as she continued on. Things had been tense lately at the house in the deep woods and, though neither Will nor Terces had said anything directly, Ash recognized the strange signs: the knowing glances they gave each other, Will’s frantic writing sessions, and Terces’s new interest in the fighting arts. Terces had been a jester his whole life, so there was no reason on earth why he’d need to fight anyone. What in the world was going on? Ash knew that they were up to something. Why wouldn’t they tell her what it was? If they were planning something, she wanted to help. The sense of not knowing was killing her. Still, she wasn’t going to bring it up at dinner. Surely Will and Terces would tell her eventually…right?

About the Author: Leslie D. Soule is a fantasy/sci-fi author from Sacramento, CA. She has an M.A. in English from National University, and is currently working on the final book of her fantasy series, The Fallenwood Chronicles.

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Buy Fallenwood at Melange Books or Amazon.

Buy Forgetting Fallenwood at Melange Books or Amazon.

Buy Betrayer at Melange Books or Amazon.

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Daughter of Aithne by Karin Rita Gastreich – Spotlight and Giveaway

May 1, 2017 By 12 Comments


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Karin 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.

Betrayed by her own prodigy, Eolyn stands accused of treason. As power-hungry nobles dismantle her life’s work and honor, the desperate queen forges a risky alliance with the ruthless and cunning Mage Corey. Determined to defend her son’s claim to the throne of the Mage King, Eolyn prepares for her last and greatest battle, this time against her own sisters in magic.

Across the Furma River, Taesara of Roenfyn is drawn out of seclusion and into an ever-more vicious game of intrigue and war. Subject to the schemes of a shrewd uncle and the mysterious ambitions of the wizards of Galia, Taesara struggles to assert her own destiny, even as she takes up arms to defend her daughter’s inheritance.

In the climactic finale to The Silver Web trilogy, threads of love, honor, betrayal, and vengeance culminate in a violent conflict between powerful women, opposed to each other yet destined to shatter a thousand-year cycle of war.

“A tale of female oppression, prejudice, and even deadly seduction, EOLYN touches on issues that are deeply relevant to our own society.” -Apex Reviews review of EOLYN, Book One of the Silver Web

“The story’s greatest triumph is Gastreich’s prose, a consistent blend of lyrical verse and dark imageray….Lush, evocative descriptions carry readers through an unforgettable journey.” –Kirkus Reviews review of SWORD OF SHADOWS, Book Two of The Silver Web”

Enjoy an Excerpt

Taesara stiffened as Penamor took her chin in his fingers and subjected her to cold inspection. After a moment, his frown deepened and he shook his head. “Only the Sisters of the Poor could take a woman at the height of her flower and turn her into a dried-up weed.”

Taesara bristled. “There is no place for vanity within these walls.”

“Apparently not. They’ve made you skinny and sallow. Though it is nothing, I’ll wager, that a bit of sun and some proper food cannot remedy. What are these rags they dress you in?”

She stepped away, clenching her jaw. “This is all I need. All anyone needs, to live at peace in this world.”

Penamor snorted. “Indeed.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’ve come to fetch you home.”

“This is my home.”

“This was your temporary refuge. A foul place, but one of your choosing. We were generous enough to let you stay, first your father and then I, as we put the outside world in order. Now it is time for you to return.”

“I am not going back.”

“Oh, but I think you will.” Penamor spoke with an odd tone, at once menacing and full of promise. “War is at hand, and you will be the one to lead it.”

Taesara forced a laugh. “You know I will have no part of it. Eliasara would die at their hands if we so much as—”

“They do not have Eliasara,” he said. “We do.”

Shadows flashed through Taesara’s vision. She stumbled and caught hold of the back of a chair. A chasm opened inside her heart, swallowing the vines and trees with which she had concealed her love and pain during all these years. The bitter anguish of the day she was separated from Eliasara returned full force.

“Where is she? Where is my daughter?”

About the Author: Karin Rita Gastreich writes stories of ordinary women and the extraordinary paths they choose. She lives in Kansas City, Missouri, where she is part of the biology faculty at Avila University. An ecologist by vocation, Karin has wandered forests and wildlands all her life. Her pastimes include camping, hiking, music, and flamenco dance. In addition to THE SILVER WEB trilogy, Karin has published short stories in World Jumping, Zahir, Adventures for the Average Woman, and 69 Flavors of Paranoia. She is a recipient of the Spring 2011 Andrews Forest Writer’s Residency.

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The first book of the series, EOLYN, will be a FREE download on Kindle only on May 1.

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SWORD OF SHADOWS, Book Two of THE SILVER WEB
DAUGHTER OF AITHNE, Book Three of THE SILVER WEB

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Take the Good with the Bad by Frank Cavallo – Guest Blog

January 30, 2017 By 1 Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Frank Cavallo who is visiting with us today promoting his latest novel Eye of the Storm, which was released in August 2016. He is currently working on a new novel, The Rites of Azathoth, with Necro Publications, due out next month.

Take the Good from the Bad
One of the things that newer writers tend to do is to emulate authors they admire. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a great way to learn your craft. But when you’re emulating an author who has spent years honing theirs, who makes it look easy, it can be harder than you realize to succeed at that. For one, you may not know exactly what you’re emulating.

Stephen King’s prose feels like it flows so easily, so if I just let my words flow easily too, it should come out the same, right?

Clive Barker revels in gory details, so I’ll pile on with my own descriptions of rampant blood and guts. It should be just as good, right?

As you can imagine, it really doesn’t work that way. The best writers are very good at using their prose to do all sorts of things—creating mood, setting a scene, fleshing out character depth, dropping in just enough gore at just the right time, etc. They’re so good in fact, that unless you really know what you’re looking for, you probably won’t notice the “brush strokes” on their canvas.

Imitating them without really understanding what they’re doing will probably leave you disappointed. You won’t be as good as them, and it won’t be clear why.

So how do you get better?

Let me suggest a different approach. You should try reading a little bad fiction.

Here’s why. When I was in college I took quite a few film study and screenwriting classes. We watched a lot of movies. I’m not going to lie, that was one of the reasons I took those classes—spend a semester watching movies instead of reading boring old books, sign me up!

But I was taught something there I had never encountered in any other kind of writing program. You learn more about making movies from watching bad films than you do from watching good ones.

Sure, you do have to watch the good ones, the classics. It’s important to know what the best version of any work of art is before you try to create it yourself. But just like with literature, a great film doesn’t show off the things that make it great. It works so well because you don’t notice any of the technique behind the final product.

Unless you’re an insider, if you come away from a movie talking about the work of the lighting director or the editor, it’s probably not because they did their job well. That stuff is supposed to be transparent. If you notice it, it wasn’t done well.

The same goes for fiction. It’s just not always so obvious—at least in good fiction.

Let’s take a quick example. Head hopping. That’s editor shorthand for the cardinal sin of switching POV within a scene. Some very good writers can get away with this, but as a general rule you should never do it. It’s one of those things that’s presented in a creative writing class as a rule you’re just supposed to follow.

Exposed to toxic substances: Long exposure to elements like cadmium, hydrocarbons, lead, mercury, pesticides, radioactivity and X-rays can hamper sperm http://icks.org/n/data/ijks/1482461379_add_file_6.pdf order cheap cialis quality and count. Arginine: Arginine is an amino sildenafil levitra acid that helps produce the neurotransmitters that increase sex drive. Older people do have worse erections buy cialis cheap because the sex hormones reduce as one gets older, and the circulation can also suffer. Actually, carbohydrate is good to improve the energy level in body and this is the discount cialis first anti-ED drug that comes in a flavored variety. The reasoning is sound, of course. Switching POV can quickly confuse a reader. It takes them right out of the story. But when you’re the one writing, you can sometimes get so deep into your own material that you can’t see the problem. You know what’s going on, so keeping track of what each character is thinking is easy for you. If you’re lucky enough to even notice, you might be tempted to think “sure, I was told not to do it, but in this case, it makes perfect sense to me, so maybe I can get away with bending the rule.”

The thing that will almost certainly disabuse you of that hopeful delusion is trying to wade through another writer doing it in their work. Believe me, once you’ve spent a few minutes trying to keep up with some serious head hopping, you’ll never do it yourself.

In a case like that, you’ll learn more from reading one chapter of a poorly-written book than you will from reading a hundred good ones.

Now, I know this is not necessarily the easiest thing to do. There isn’t some list of “all-time badly written books that everyone should read” out there. At least not that I know of. If you want to see a bad movie, you can watch “Plan 9 from Outer Space” and in a little over an hour, you can catch about two dozen things no director should ever do. When it comes to books, you’re probably going to have to do a little digging. I’m certainly not going to suggest any here, either.

My advice is to pick a few review sites that you trust, and the next time they give a book a bad write-up, give it a serious look. See what they thought didn’t work in that book and then, instead of just crossing it off your list, do the opposite. Give it a read, see why it’s not working. Try to learn what mistakes the author is making and think about how to fix them.

Take the good from the bad, and make your writing even better.

On a research mission in one of the most remote regions of the world, former Navy SEAL Eric Slade and Dr. Anna Fayne are caught in a mysterious storm. Catapulted through a rift in space-time, they are marooned on a lost world.

Struggling to survive and desperate to find a way home, they must confront the dangers of this savage land—a dark wizard and his army of undead—a warrior queen and her horde of fierce Neanderthals that stands against him—and a legendary treasure with the power to open the gateway between worlds, or to destroy them all: the Eye of the Storm.

About the Author: Horror and dark fantasy author Frank Cavallo’s work has appeared in magazines such as Another Realm, Ray Gun Revival, Every Day Fiction, Lost Souls and the Warhammer e-zine Hammer and Bolter.

His latest novel, Eye of the Storm, was released in August 2016 by Ravenswood Publishing.

“In Eye of the Storm, I try to bring back some of the elements that I like from old time pulp fiction,” says Frank. “It is a throwback to old school adventure stories, combining the pacing and the feel of those classic tales with some newer elements that are not all that common to typical fantasy fiction.”

Frank’s previously published works include The Lucifer Messiah, The Hand of Osiris, and the Gotrek & Felix novella Into the Valley of Death. He is currently working on a new novel, The Rites of Azathoth, with Necro Publications, due out in February 2017.

Frank was born and raised in New Jersey. He graduated from Boston University with a degree in Communications in 1994 and he earned a JD from the Cleveland Marshall College of Law in 2001. He currently resides in Cleveland, Ohio, where he has been a criminal defense attorney for fifteen years.

Readers can connect with Frank on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.

To learn more, go to http://www.frankcavallo.com/

Filed Under: Guest Blogs, Science Fiction/Fantasy

Where Do Ideas Come From? by Sharolyn G. Brown -Gift Blog and Giveaway

July 14, 2016 By 27 Comments

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Sharolyn G. Brown will be awarding a $15 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.

Where do ideas come from?
Where do ideas come from? In trying to formulate an answer to this question, I had a hard time. Not because coming up with ideas to write about is hard for me. On the contrary, it’s quite easy. But answering the question of where my ideas come from is like trying to answer the questions “how do you breath?” or “how do you blink?”

I’m not a scientist. So my answer to those question would be something along the lines of “Well I just suck air in through either my nose or my mouth and blow it out.” Or “I just briefly close my eyes for a micro second and then open them.” And when it comes to ideas, it happens just as automatically for me. But, that’s not the answer anyone reading this is looking for. So I thought about it some more. And I realized that, when coming up with story ideas, what my brain does automatically is it looks at an everyday situation and asks the question, “what if…?”

For me, the “what if” is colored by my genres of choice, science fiction or fantasy. But once I have that “what if” scenario in mind, I then need to see the character or characters dealing with this scenario to make the idea one I keep. For example, the ideas for my novel, The Heaviness of Knowing, came from a conversation I had with a friend. During it, I was discussing a particularly odd dream that I’d had the night before. She responded by saying it was amazing that I could recall my dream in such detail because she never dreamed.

Now, I don’t think she never dreams. It’s more likely that she just doesn’t remember them. But regardless, her comment started me to thinking. Why would one person be able to have total recall of his or her dreams and another person not? As I thought about what this situation could be used for I was suddenly struck with the idea: Maybe there are entities that could use our dreams to their advantage.

Then, I saw Lauren and Roxal. Lauren was the unsuspecting Earth woman who Roxal, the alien, was controlling through Lauren’s dreams. Further, Roxal was being controlled by false gods on her planet. And…. The story just continued from there until eventually, I was able to write it down in what is now The Heaviness of Knowing.

So, for me, ideas come from a combination of a science fiction or fantasy centered “what if” scenario, and the character or characters affected by this scenario. And once I have the character or characters in mind, it’s simply my job to get their stories into a novel.

MediaKit_BookCover_TheHeavinessOfKnowingRoxal has spent her life using her Dream Traveler ability in service to Trebor’s gods, The Keepers. Even after she learns they aren’t all powerful like she was taught, she dutifully continues to manipulate an Earth woman named Lauren to do their bidding. Roxal’s content pretending to be a loyal follower, until her mate’s activities with a rebel faction put both of their lives in jeopardy.

Meanwhile on Earth, Lauren is struggling to find balance at work and at home. To make matters worse, she develops an acute case of insomnia which disrupts her life. While trying to cure her condition, Lauren discovers that not only do aliens exist, but that she’s been in contact with one for most of her life. And that’s just for starters.

Now Lauren’s world is turned upside down. And Roxal has to figure out if she can harness the survival instincts which before told her to hide and use it to now fight for her survival.

Enjoy an Excerpt: In the dark, with their sleeping unit’s covering pulled up to their necks, Roxal placed her hands against Edo’s naked stomach and used them to communicate.

What has happened? Roxal asked in the hand signal language Edo had taught her. Why are the Reps looking for traitors now?

I am not sure, exactly. I thought it too dangerous to meet with my Resistor contacts after the assembly. But… he paused during his response.

But what? she prodded.

Roxal, you have always asked that I not give you details because you did not want to get involved. The questions you are asking will get you involved.

This time Roxal paused before answering Edo because he was right. Even after her moment of defiance and after learning their gods were fake, and that her mission with Lauren was a lie, and that she was actually a slave, Roxal had asked him to not give her any details on the activities of the Resistors. She had thought that by not knowing any of the details about the Resistors, she could keep herself safe by denying membership. However, today had shown her otherwise. The sight of the Helper pleading for her life while declaring her innocence had shown Roxal that there was no such thing as being safe.

She finally admitted to herself, that as a slave to The Keepers and the Reps, her life was forfeit from the moment she was created. Appeasing her gods and the Reps could keep her alive. But if they ever decided that she should die, she now knew there was nothing she could say or do to stop it.

About the Author: MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_TheHeavinessOfKnowingSharolyn G. Brown is a lifelong science fiction and fantasy fan who decided the best way to deal with all of the characters in her head was to give them stories and put them in a book. She lives with her husband in Houston, Texas where she divides her time between working, writing, and spending time with him.

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Buy the book at Amazon.

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Descended from Dragons by Tricia Owens – Spotlight and Giveaway

May 30, 2016 By 18 Comments

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Tricia Owens will be awarding a $75 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.

MediaKit_BookCover_DescendedFromDragonsBeneath the glitz and glamour of Las Vegas lies another city. A secret city in plain sight, full of warlocks and demons, shape-shifters and golems. A city that feeds off the chance magick that is generated by gamblers and which is ruled by mysterious beings called the Oddsmakers.

It is in this strange underbelly of the occult that Anne Moody runs a cursed pawn shop for the desperate, the curious, and the magickally inclined. Though the job is boring, it keeps her under the radar. None of her customers have any inkling that she is a dragon sorceress with a power that’s been feared throughout history. However dragons are no help when a stone statue ends up in her shop that is more than it appears. The statue is a gargoyle named Vale, who is shrouded in mystery and secrets. When she learns that Vale is possessed, and that the person responsible for cursing him plans to take over Las Vegas with a horde of demons from Hell, Anne realizes it is up to her to defy the Oddsmakers and save the city, and possibly the world.

Enjoy an excerpt:

After silently parting the bead curtain I paused just at the threshold, listening. The shop was spooky enough without the lights on thanks to all the strange silhouettes, but knowing that half the objects were also cursed gave me another reason to shiver as I panned my gaze over the place.

Tick tick tick

I sent Lucky toward the sound. My dragon flew a loose circle around the left side of the room. That narrowed it down a bit, not that I felt comfortable putting my back to everything that was on the other side of the room. I displayed a few katanas and items that could be used as weapons there, but thankfully none of them were cursed with movement. At least, I hoped not. I guess I’d find out for certain when a spear pierced my back.

A fluttering sound, like the flapping of thick canvas, made me instinctively drop into a crouch. Lucky reared up, ready to attack. But nothing flew overhead. Breathing shallowly, I crawled toward the counter. I’d feel safer behind it and with the wall at my back.

As I rounded the counter, I realized I knew what had had made the noise. The only new thing in my inventory was the gargoyle statue. When I raised my eyes above the countertop, the gargoyle was gone from where it had sat. The cameos were quick to offer their opinions.

“You met the love of your life today…”

“…he’ll try to kill you, Anne Moody.”

“The cursed shall pay, Anne Moody!”

Yep, the damn gargoyle statue had come to life and was flying around Moonlight. Definitely a way to make me remember you, Christian.

About the Author:MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_DescendedFromDragonsTricia Owens wants you to know that Las Vegas is actually a pretty cool place and you won’t be eaten by a troll there. Probably. A former casino games dealer and cruise ship editor, Tricia has traveled extensively, visiting over 70 countries. She writes full time in several genres including urban fantasy and romance. Her favorite setting is her home town, the city of sin.

Website | Facebook | Amazon Author Page

Buy the book at Amazon.

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A Special Excerpt from Fibers by Jennifer-Crystal Johnson – Guest Blog and Giveaway

April 21, 2016 By 19 Comments

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author 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.

***

Hi there! I’d like to begin by saying thank you very much for having me and for allowing me to post about my new sci-fi release, Fibers. This is the first book of a trilogy called the Infiltration Trilogy, a story about a mysterious illness, an alternate dimension, and the government’s covert involvement in both.

I won’t lie – I’m feeling a bit out of place on this site because the focus seems to be mostly on romance, at least that’s what the book covers dictate. Just as a full disclosure thing… my novel does have romantic elements in it, but that is not the main focus.

In light of this, I thought the best way to illustrate my novel’s style and for you and your readers to determine if you’ll even like it is by posting a short excerpt =). I invite you to shift your focus to the existential, the real possibility of other dimensions, and the power of the human spirit in the face of incredible challenges, adversity, and seemingly hopeless situations much larger than the self.

“According to superstring theory, there are at least ten dimensions in the universe (M-theory actually suggests that there are 11 dimensions to spacetime; bosonic string theories suggest 26 dimensions).”
Source:http://ultraculture.org/blog/2014/12/16/heres-visual-guide-10-dimensions-reality

If you go through and read this source article and have never researched quantum theory, string theory, or other possible dimensions, be warned – your mind might be blown!

With that said, here’s a short excerpt from my novel.

She sighed as she sat down on the bed, a weird feeling of being watched washing over her. The room was dark, so she couldn’t be sure of anything. Shadows always played weird tricks on her, especially after she’d started seeing moving ones, and she’d asked herself a million times if she was perceiving them more often simply because she thought she’d seen them before. It was a vicious cycle.

Unsure of what else to do, she lay back on her bed and closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing. The feeling of being watched grew stronger as she tried to relax, and a knot began to form in her stomach. The bridge of her nose tickled the way it does when someone is really close but not quite touching it.

She opened her eyes quickly and saw a black shadowy silhouette floating just inches above her. Her eyes widened and she stayed quiet, but fear gripped her with its icy fingers and she felt paralyzed as her breathing became ragged. The shadow above her looked like a face, but not entirely human. Its eyes glowed a dim red and it was staring directly into her eyes. She couldn’t make out any distinct facial features, so she focused on her breathing… and not having a heart attack.

After what seemed like an eternity of being unable to move, Anna squeezed her eyes shut and mumbled, “You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real….”

She opened her eyes and there was nothing there.

If any of you are interested in receiving more excerpts directly to your email, please take a moment to sign up for my author newsletter at www.JenniferCrystalJohnson.com =). You’ll receive 12 excerpts you can either read or listen to me read to you on video.

Thank you again so much for your time! I hope you find the story intriguing and pick up a copy of the book to learn more about what Morgelloons disease is, what happens with the shadow people, and who is helping Anna through her strange and mysterious experiences.

MediaKit_BookCover_FibersAnna Reynolds is caught up in the middle of a secret interdimensional government agreement… and she doesn’t even know it.

There’s a medical anomaly loosely dubbed Morgellons disease afflicting a number of people. Symptoms include open sores that produce colorful string-like fibers, fatigue, and nightmarish visions of shadowy figures. No one knows where it came from. No one knows what causes it. There is no cure.

When Anna begins having nightmares and waking hallucinations of the shadow people, her uneasiness about her condition grows. Enlisting the help of her doctor and some friends, Anna is determined to find out what’s really going on and why Morgellons is such a mystery.

With her health declining and doubts about whom she can trust, is Anna doomed to become a slave to her condition? Or will she and her unlikely group of would-be heroes come through, saving her… and, ultimately, the world?

About the Author: MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_FibersJennifer-Crystal Johnson is originally from Germany, but was raised an Army brat. She has published one novella under her former last name, The Outside Girl: Perception is Reality (Publish America, 2005 – out of print as of 2013), a poetry book, Napkin Poetry (Broken Publications, 2010), and a collection of poetry, art, and prose called Strangers with Familiar Faces (Broken Publications, 2011). She’s also published a collection of short creature horror stories called If You’re Human Don’t Open the Door (Broken Publications, 2012), a personal development book called The Ten Pillars of a Happy Relationship (Broken Publications, 2014), and a collection of more horror stories (no creatures this time, just people) called Our Capacity for Evil (Broken Publications, 2015). She has several poems and short stories published on Every Writer’s Resource and has recently published a science fiction novel called Fibers, the first book in the Infiltration Trilogy. Jen owns and operates Broken Publications (www.BrokenPublications.com) and publishes an annual anthology to raise awareness about domestic violence called Soul Vomit (www.SoulVomit.com). When she isn’t writing or editing, she enjoys playing games with her three kids, watching crime shows on Netflix, or reading. She lives in WA State with her three children, three cats, and a crazy puppy named Thor.

Website | Twitter | Facebook

Buy the book for only $0.99 at Amazon.

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