Author Interview: Gina Dewink #Tuesdaybookblog

Today I’m fortunate to present Gina Dewink author of Time in My Pocket.

Hi Gina, thanks for agreeing to this interview.

Question 1) What part of the world do you come from?

ginadewinktimeinmypocketI was born and raised in Minnesota’s heartland, except for a slight detour to Wisconsin for a few years. Think corn fields, hotdish and lakeside cabins. 

Question 2) What do you think makes a good story?

That’s a terrific–and subjective–question. To me, a good story is something that centers around fascinating characters.

Question 3) What inspired you to write your first book?

The first book I completed was in high school, and my inspiration was just the urge to write. I completed two complete novels after that, but I never attempted to do anything with them. Time in My Pocket is technically my fourth novel. I’m not sure why I knew it was different from the others, but I knew right away. I have always been intrigued with time travel. After being a stay-at-home-mom for a year, I was craving time with my creative side again. I was inspired to write this book after I couldn’t find any stories combining my love of old Hollywood with the sarcastic “mom blog” tone I love to read.

Question 4) What is your work schedule like when you’re writing?

Oh, there’s no doubt my plate is full! My littles are now 4- and 2-years-old. I’m a part-time stay-at-home-mom with them. I also work part-time as a Communications Manager at an international nonprofit. In addition, I am an active freelance writer for several local magazines and online mediums. Every moment is a chance to compose sentences and scenes in my head. When I’m really working out a scene, I make ridiculous absent-minded mistakes like shampooing my hair twice or driving right past a turn!

Question 5) What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

Ha, maybe that my passion extends to the keyboard. When I was writing the last few chapters of Time in My Pocket, I typed with such gusto that I hammered out 14,000 words in one day, and BROKE our laptop’s spacebar! (And that wasn’t the first time that’s happened…)

Mackenzie: Ha! I can relate to that. I broke the P key on my laptop. I took it into Apple to get it repaired, and alas, broke it again the next day.

Question 6) Give us the title and genre of your latest book.

PocketebookcoverMy debut novel is Time in My Pocket. It is a sci fi time travel adventure that published on September 1, 2017.

The tagline says it all: She woke up in 1947…in someone else’s body.

When a sarcastic mother of two is offered the chance to go back in time through an antique locket’s mirror, she is told she must look past herself. But when she does, she escapes the confines of her (imagined) domestic prison and comes face-to-face with the reality of life in the 1940’s – glamour, communism, smallpox and all. Now she must find a way to return to life before falling through the mirror. Humor, history and sci fi coalesce in this breakout novel, TIME IN MY POCKET.

Question 7) What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your book?

I learned so many surprising and wonderful things about the 1940s! But one thing that will stick with me forever is that, if rumors are to be believed, Alfred Hitchcock did not have a belly button. Yes, that’s correct – no navel. Apparently, he had several stomach surgeries and it was removed during one of them.

Question 8) Do you have an excerpt from your current work you’d like to share?

Sure! I feel this little blurb gives a taste of what it would be like being a millennial trapped in the 1940s. Everything would seem so foreign!

She unclipped her nylon stocking and rolled it to her knee. I couldn’t look away. Not just because of my disbelief, but also because her legs were unreal. Like didn’t physically look real. From the land of photoshopped celebrities, I was almost disheartened to see that it indeed was physically possible to have legs that looked that good.

“Great gams, eh?” Sis said to my opened-mouth gape.

“Unreal…”

“This is just her lamplight gig. She’s a professional roller skater.”

I whipped around to face her. “That can’t be real.”

Her laugh was full of glee. “Sure it is. She’s hired to do a choreographed skate around tennis courts, parking lots, lobbies – she’s big in the party scene. Unique, graceful entertainment, wouldn’t you say?”

Question 9) What can we expect from you in the future?  

I’m still actively freelancing for several mediums, but as for another novel – I hope to write another. But we’ll take it one book at a time for now.

Question 10) What was the best money you ever spent as a writer? 

Another terrific question. I hired a cover designer and an interior designer. I would say I am happy with the money I spent on both. They made the book beautiful and real. I feel better having people buy a book they enjoy having on their bookshelf.

Question 11) How can we contact you or find out more about your books?

I’m active on my Facebook author page (https://www.facebook.com/ginadewinkauthor/), as well as on my website (https://ginadewink.com). You can also catch me on Twitter and Goodreads.

Thanks for having me!

Gina

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Book Spotlight: Dead of Night by James Agee Jr.

DEAD OF NIGHT

The Blood Curse Chronicles

by James Agee Jr.

Book Spotlight: James: Witch-Hunter by K.S. Marsden

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Title: James: Witch-Hunter

Author: K.S. Marsden

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Release date: 1st October 2017

Synopsis

~Prequel to the Witch-Hunter trilogy~

James Bennett is a Yorkshire lad, making the big move to Oxford to start university.

His ambitions involve getting a good education; impressing the Rugby Club; and not throttling his roommate. All perfectly normal drama, until Hallowe’en.

A girl’s murder throws James into the dangerous world of witches, and those that hunt them.

After playing a sidekick in the Witch-Hunter trilogy, it’s only fair that James gets to be centre stage in his own prequel.

This can be read as a stand-alone, and does not contain any spoilers. It may contain witches, bad jokes and cringe-worthy scenes; but definitely no spoilers.

Book link:

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35699046-james

Author:

20986316_471511529897075_1725208517_nKelly S. Marsden grew up in Yorkshire, and there were two constants in her life – books and horses.

Graduating with an equine degree from Aberystwyth University, she has spent most of her life since trying to experience everything the horse world has to offer. She is currently settled into a Nutritionist role for a horse feed company in Doncaster, South Yorkshire.

She writes Fantasy stories part-time. Her first book, The Shadow Rises (Witch-Hunter #1), was published in January 2013, and she now has two successful series under her belt.

Excerpt:

20967781_471511993230362_311242889_oCharlotte had just made her second coffee of the day, when she heard a very insistent banging at the front door. Not in the mood for visitors, she reluctantly opened it.

And was met by the sight of James.

In a dress.

“I’ll never get used to your humour, James.” She said, stepping aside and letting him in. “Fancy some fresh coffee? And when I say fresh, I mean instant stuff I’ve only boiled once.”

James closed the door behind him, and made his way through the narrow corridor to Charlotte’s tiny kitchen.

Charlotte promptly poured an extra coffee and added sugar, her normally bright eyes were red, and it was clear she’d been crying.

“I broke up with Nathan.” She said, looking embarrassed that he had to see her like this.

“I think my roommate’s a murderer.” James countered.

Charlotte handed him a mug of coffee, shaking her head. “When a girl says she’s broken up with her boyfriend, most people would offer… never mind. You win. Why is Hunter a murderer?”

James gently lowered himself down onto Charlotte’s rickety sofa. “I followed him last night. He was bein’ weird, and I have a tracker on his phone-”

“What?!”

“And he went to this warehouse, where…” James trailed off, his throat closing around the words.

Charlotte misread his inability to speak, and gently rubbed his shoulder. “It’s alright, you’re safe here. Who do you think he killed?”

“Bea.” James gasped out. “You remember the blonde, Scottish lass? They hooked up at start of term; then the other night she was looking for him; next thing you know, she’s dead!”

Charlotte put down her coffee cup, her hand shaking too much to hold it. She looked at James in all seriousness, “And you saw Hunter kill her?”

James shook his head, thinking back to last night, and the hooded figures. He was sure it was Hunter, “I couldn’t clearly see who it was, but why would Hunter be there? It’s one hell of a coincidence, that he bails on the Hallowe’en party and ends up at the same warehouse where the girl he was shagging ends up getting sta-”

“Did you physically see him there?” Charlotte asked.

“No, I was following a tracker.” James admitted.

“An illegal tracker, that’ll never hold in court, James.”

James snorted, “Trust the trainee-lawyer to say that.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to see every angle.” Charlotte said, punching his arm. “There could be another, perfectly normal explanation. Maybe someone mugged Hunter and stole his phone – that sort of person would be more likely to head to the dodgy side of town.”

“Ha, it’d have to be the king of muggers to get the better of Hunter.” James argued. “He’s super-fast, super-strong, and has anger issues. Which all adds up to someone very capable of murder.”

 “How-”

“Do you not remember how we first met? It’s not often I get thrown against a wall, instead of the usual handshake. And I do rugby training with him – trust me, it’s like getting hit by a car-”

“James, you’re exaggerating.” Charlotte sighed.

“And I’ve seen him run – I forgot to show you.” James dug out his phone from the flowery handbag, and quickly found the video he’d taken weeks ago. “Look – look how fast he is! And don’t you find it weird that he’s never that fast in rugby games? It’s almost like he’s holding back.”

Charlotte looked at the video, and when the brief clip was over, she shrugged, “It doesn’t look that fast to me.”

“Well, it seemed it when I was watching with my own two eyes.” James tucked his phone away. “He’s not normal.”

“Yes, but there’s a huge leap between what’s not normal, and a killer.” Charlotte said, exasperated. “Don’t get me wrong; I want to help you James, I really do… have you been to the police?”

  “Yes, I stayed there overnight.” James answered. “I got knocked out, and some cop must’a found me. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in a cell.”

“Oh no, what happened? Did someone attack you?”

James opened his mouth the speak, but he didn’t even know what to say. He remembered getting knocked off his feet by some powerful force, but that didn’t make sense.

“What did the police say?” Charlotte asked, when it was clear James wasn’t giving her an answer.

He shrugged, “Not much, just that Bea had died. They were dodging a lot of my questions.”

“That’s normal police protocol for an ongoing investigation.” Charlotte said, knowledgeably.

James shook his head. “There was summat not right about the whole thing. It just felt shady.”

Giveaway

Link to Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b0183e5911/

Author Interview: Greg Jolley

Today I’m fortunate to present Greg Jolley author of Murder in a Very Small Town.

Hi Greg, thanks for agreeing to this interview.

 

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Greg Jolley (left) and Mackenzie Flohr (right)

Question 1) What part of the world do you come from?

 

Originally that oddest part of the world, California. These days, I’m enjoying the relative calm and sanity of Michigan.

Question 2) What do you think makes a good story?

No matter the genre, it’s the mystery and suspense; the what will the characters decide to do? It’s the dance of the characters, caught up in the conflicts between good and evil.

Question 3) What inspired you to write your first book?

Through childhood, I was an avid and compulsive reader. Somewhere in my mid-twenties, I asked myself, “Why not write one? Contribute to the world of stories.” As is almost a requirement of first novels, Distractions (1984) was partially a mirror game of what was happening in my life, which wasn’t as interesting to me as taking the first steps into learning and enjoying the art and craft of stories.

Question 4) What is your work schedule like when you’re writing?

I write seven days a week, starting at 5AM with espresso brewing. I am firmly seated in the school that holds to the craft model and find artistic expression and exploration within each day’s efforts.

Question 5) What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I over write and over research each novel. I’m also open to whatever means get the words and story into play. Sometimes that is typing into my iMac, but of late, it has been four blue line notebooks laid out side by side and a cup of Pilot V5 pens and colored pencils. I also carry a notebook everywhere, as the books continue to percolate throughout the day.

Question 6) Give us the title and genre of your latest book.

The latest book is Murder in a Very Small Town, in the suspense genre, where I’ve been living comfortable for the last few writes. I make the distinction between mysteries and suspense, grounded in exploring the dance between good and evil by sharing both the heroes and villains with the readers.

Question 7) What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your book?

With the writing of Murder, I was delighted to work with another odd Danser family member, this time Wiki, a twenty-something gay, headstrong and feisty woman. She kept taking the story away from me to make it her own. Every time I knew she was going to turn left, she steered right, over the median, planting her boot on the accelerator and taking off into the uncharted.

Question 8) Do you have an excerpt from your current work you’d like to share?

51mmb5u+UdL._SX322_BO1,204,203,200_Yes, of course. This is from chapter one of Murder in a very Small Town:

The truck pulled off slowly to the side and braked to a stop. Now Wiki had the view of her headlights glaring into the snow-swept road–the two beams illuminated heavy snowflakes falling at an angle. The steering wheel felt fluid in her small hands, and she slowed down again to five miles per hour. Snow was clouting the underside of the car and sometimes white waves crashed up over the hood. There were furrows out before the car, from prior vehicles, but they were becoming harder to see and stay within. Anxiety, perhaps fear, changed the pace of her breaths and chilled her palms on the wheel.

A highway sign appeared, lit by the white headlights. It read, Exit 143. No name of a town, just the distance to the exit.

Even from within her personal storm of shock and sadness, Wiki understood that she could not go on much further. She turned on the right-side blinker, something that in her normal life would have made her giggle, what with her being the only car for miles. She slowed some more and began to watch for the furrows to sway off to the right.

A single car-wide set of tracks continued into the narrow tunnel of the storm and Wiki turned off, staying within the white tire marks. The off-ramp was tree-lined and rose over a knoll, and there was a single yellow light swaying in the distance to her right. She rolled slowly down the other side of the hill and saw a tangle of cars, headlights, and movement. There was an accident at the base of the hill. Wiki lifted off the gas completely and began lightly braking the car. She was studying the scene a hundred yards away, feeling the car slowing and lazily wiggling its rear. The bridge supporting the trestle tracks was what changed everything.

The car felt like it somehow accelerated. It is also began to slide sideways. Wiki took the wheel tight in both hands. She tried more pressure on the brake pedal. The accident was less than forty yards away, and she could tell that her car was picking up speed as it slid down the snow-covered ramp.

Sara, the baby, and the heartbreak were forgotten. She could see two men working between three wrecked vehicles, prying on a door. Her hand went to the horn and stayed there, pressing it in a solid cry as she and the car slid closer and closer. Neither man seemed to hear or care about her approach. Not knowing what else to do, Wiki turned the wheel all the way to the right. The car stayed on its steady course for impact.

Ten yards away one of the men finally looked up, but there was no time to do anything more than that. Her car struck the two men and hit the wrecked cars. Wiki rebounded on the seat after clouting her head on the wheel, and the two cars spun slowly away and her car, now crushed in at the front, slid past. Her car stopped when it crashed into a third vehicle. This impact had more force as she had hit a large tow truck. Her temple hit the steering wheel again as her car finally stopped.

Wiki sat perfectly still, looking out around the raised hood of her car to the tow truck, ignoring the bump on her head, watching her wipers continue to brush snow from the windshield. She began to shake and could hear the storm wind and the damaged engine of her car.

She was sitting there staring out into the view when her door opened and a frigid blast of air and snow swept in. She turned and thought she saw a woman’s face close to her; the woman had cloth across her mouth and her head was deep inside a fur-lined parka hood.

“Lady, are you okay?” She heard, and thought it odd to be addressed as “Lady.”

The cold and wind coming in through the door jarred Wiki into the current moment. She turned her attention to the woman and nodded, “Yes?”

The woman’s glove pressed Wiki’s chin and turned her eyes to hers. “You better get out. Another car might come. Come on, take off your belt.”

Wiki heard and understood, but sat staring. Then she remembered her car striking the two men and that got her going. She unbuckled and climbed out, the wind whipping her heavy coat and summer dress and thin bare legs.

She looked back up the exit ramp to the two cars she had struck. Their headlights were shining in the blowing snow, and she saw a man staring at the chaos with his jaw dropped.

The woman had her arm around Wiki and turned her away toward the tow truck.

“We need to get inside,” the woman said, leading her to the passenger door of the large yellow vehicle. “There’s nothing we can do out here but freeze.”

“Should we call the police?” Wiki asked, feeling more and more in the moment.

The woman opened the door and climbed in first with her hand out to Wiki.

“Can’t call the sheriff,” the woman replied, waiting for Wiki to close the door.

“Why not?” Wiki asked. She turned on the seat and looked out to the accident.

“Because he’s under your car.”

Question 9) What can we expect from you in the future?  

The sequel to Murder is in the brilliant and capable hands of my publisher, with a January 2018, release date. It is titled, Malice in a very Small Town and in it, Wiki Danser continues her war against madness and evil.

Question 10) What was the best money you ever spent as a writer? 

Hiring a professional editor for every book before it even reaches my publisher. I gladly go out of pocket for this invaluable service and expertise, working with brilliant and passionate editors who enrich each novel with substantive, line and copy revisions.

Question 11) How can we contact you or find out more about your books?

I’m always available to readers at the following:

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8261931.Greg_Jolley\

FB – author page: https://www.facebook.com/gfjolle/

Twitter: @gfjolle

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/gfjolle/

www.gregjolley.net

gfjolle@sbcglobal.net

A Small Gang of Authors

https://asmallgangofauthors.blogspot.com

Thank you!greagauthor

All the best,

Greg Jolley

The Danser novels

Author Interview: Terry Marchion

Today I’m fortunate to present Terry Marchion author of The Wrath of the Revenant.

Hi Terry, thanks for agreeing to this interview.

Question 1) What part of the world do you come from?

Author pictureI live in the Pacific Northwest, in the Seattle area.  It’s great because we have a little bit of everything up here – city life and culture, but just a few minutes away you can be in the middle of nowhere.

Question 2) What do you think makes a good story?

For me, it’s relatable characters.  The situations can stretch the bounds of believability (as they should), but if the characters aren’t “real”, then it won’t grab the reader.

Question 3) What inspired you to write your first book?

missingyesterdaysIt was my love of serial tv (now I’m dating myself).  I used to watch the old Flash Gordon and Buck Rodgers serials with my grandfather, as well as Star Trek and Lost in Space.  These shows inspired the types of stories I started to write as a kid, which grew into what would become Tremain and Christopher.

Question 4) What is your work schedule like when you’re writing?

Work Schedule?  What’s that?  LOL.  I have a day job too, which demands a lot of my time.  So I write when I can.  I usually have a notebook with me so I can write down ideas as they occur to me – then I try to get as much done on the weekends as is possible.  I’m still working on forming a regular schedule for writing.  I hasn’t yet happened, but it’ll come around.

 Question 5) What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I’m not sure I have one yet.  I’ll work on it!!!

Question 6) Give us the title and genre of your latest book.

It’s the third “episode” in my series “The Adventures of Tremain & Christopher”, called “The Wrath of the Revenant”, now available.  It’s a YA science fiction adventure.  This one was a lot of fun to write – I hope it’s as much fun to read!

Question 7) What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your book?

That the characters have grown lives of their own.  They have always been real people in my head, but on the page, as I mold the stories, they really come alive.  I think that’s the trick – to let them tell you their stories and you just become the conduit . . . Well, that and I massively underwrite.  LOL

Question 8) Do you have an excerpt from your current work you’d like to share?

Wrath cover“Tremain, this is my . . . father.” She said, indicating the metallic figure.

Tremain cleared his throat, his momentary surprise forgotten.

“He’s seen better days, I would imagine.” He walked over to the figure, examining it from all angles, the silver oval following his every movement. The voice again seemed to come from every point of the compass.

“You do not fear me?”

“I do.” Christopher mouthed, hand in the air.

Tremain paused, glancing over to Christopher, whose eyes were wide as saucers, then back up to the featureless ovular head.

“That would, more than likely, be expected, yes.” He said, continuing his visual examination. “But, as I’ve always maintained, fear is a response to something we don’t understand.” He stood, running his hand through his hair. “I choose the latter.” He came full circle around the figure and paused, placing his hand on his chin and looking up at something on the ceiling, “or is it former? I never could get a hang on those. I’m a scientist, not an English major.” He shrugged.

“And do you understand?” Came the voice.

Tremain’s gaze shifted so he was staring hard into the ovular face.

“Latter. Definitely the latter.” He whirled around to face Alice. “And understanding is far from what I feel right now, so no, at least not yet. I need more information. Alice,” he walked back to the table, where Christopher was still stunned silent, mid chew. “What happened to your father to put him in this state? Not only that, but what sort of technology exists to put a human mind into a . . . a . . .” Tremain snapped his fingers as he struggled to find the correct word. “An automaton?”

“Tremain, there’s something you should know . . .” Alice started.

“She has no information for you. She is nothing but a construct.” Interrupted the voice.

Question 9) What can we expect from you in the future?  

I have more adventures for Tremain and Christopher, that’s for sure – I have at least the beginning of the outline started (in my head) for the next book.

Question 10) What was the best money you ever spent as a writer? 

I would have to say it was buying the first cover. I didn’t want to give it a shot myself as I had no idea what went into a book cover.  After I realized that first cover wasn’t optimal, I started playing and re-designed that one to something that I felt was more in-tune with the tone of the book, then I did the second cover myself.  The cover for my latest book I actually had done from a designer that did a phenomenal job – but without that very first cover, I wouldn’t have known where to even start.

Question 11) How can we contact you or find out more about your books?

I can be found on Facebook – www.facebook.com/TerryMarchionAuthor — also on twitter @terrymarchion and on my web page:  www.terrymarchion.com

I’m always open to read email:  Info@terrymarchion.com 

Book Spotlight: Science Fantasy Romance Duology by Newland Moon

newmoon1

Rites of Heirdron: book I
🔗 https://goo.gl/h63DWf
Orbs of Trenihgea: book II
🔗 https://goo.gl/Lsv1X6
They poisoned his planet, massacred his people, and violated his mother.
Now, they’re coming for him.A bastard prince, born to a dishonored queen, Zrahnz is the last hope of a dying world. As he struggles to reclaim his legitimacy as a ruler and protect his planet, a debilitating illness threatens his sanity and his life. If he cannot save himself, his planet will succumb to the corrupt intergalactic alliances aligned against them.The irrepressible allure he feels for an Earth-born visitor, Itanya, nearly overwhelms him, yet through her, Zrahnz discovers the secret that can ease the devastating agony of his illness. Could she be the key to his survival and the future of Triaxeyn?

With Q-1 Raydren at his side, and the Oracles’ influence, he uncovers corrupted histories and unscrupulous enemies. If he fails to make a crucial decision, his people and everyone he loves will be destroyed.

Zrahnz is denied his rule, denied his birthright, and denied the one truth that will save his life.

He wasn’t supposed to survive, he wasn’t supposed to fight, and he wasn’t supposed to receive, the RITES OF HEIRDRON

They poisoned his planet, massacred his people, and violated his mother.

Then, they came for him.

After an interplanetary betrayal decimated his world, Zrahnz struggled to protect his people and reclaim his legitimacy as their ruler.

Now, he has received the Rites of Heirdron and vows to defend the Triax planets torn asunder by a corrupt galactic council, and the “shadow whisperers” who have manipulated them all.

With the aid of First Commander Lezayen and his QuNytwanian fleet, Zrahnz must unite the factions that deceived them in the past. The ensuing battle is for more than the survival of Triaxeyn, it’s for the liberation of the galaxy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

~D. Donovan, Midwest Book Review “Rites of Heirdron is a powerful fantasy telling. Its dual focus on changing worlds and hearts moves deftly from personal to political realms. It’s a recommended pick for readers who like their sci-fi spiced with more than light romance, but who want that romance wrapped in the heavier cloak of sacrifice, duty, and life-changing decisions.”

~Romuald Dzemo for Readers’ Favorite “Newland Moon has the gift of integrating strong themes like love, friendship, loyalty, faith, and redemption into a beautiful story in a seamless manner. The writing is flawless, crisp, and tight, with vivid descriptions that capture the intense action excellently.”

Rites of Heirdron Excerpt

Agonized Reality

Zrahnz dove forward and then rolled to the side. His head came up in a flash and lowered again. Clutching the ionic-tazer, he initiated a backward roll and took position behind a rock formation. He had lost track of his partner. After

newmoon2

 taking a deep breath, he eased around the side of the boulder, noticing movement to his left.

Instinctively, he dropped into a defensive crouch, sending four ionic blasts toward the enemies. He did not wait to check the accuracy of his shots, running to his right and diving behind their damaged shuttle. His breathing was labored as he tried to steady himself.

He noticed more enemies still advancing as he changed position. When he checked the energy level of his ionic-tazer, he had enough power left for only four blasts. He searched for his partner again, tapping the com-tag nestled in his ear. Nothing. How did they become separated? He had trained for this and now he might have gotten his partner either captured or killed.

He ground his teeth at that thought. After taking another deep breath, he counted. Zrahnz eased around and noticed the position of three enemies. He offered a prayer, wiping the forming sweat off his hands onto his uniform. When his count reached ten, he leveled his ionic-tazer, and leapt from his position, shooting.

One and then another enemy dematerialized as his well-aimed shots hit them squarely. His movement never ceased as he concealed himself again.

Zrahnz checked his surroundings and then rested a hand on the three chazrens on his belt. Those he would use only if he had to. The handheld grenades were more effective if an enemy was within twenty meters. It was his hope that his partner was alive, and that together, they could end this.

When he leveled his weapon again, the tremble in his hands was worse than before. He blinked, trying to clear the haze from his mind. Focus, he thought, willing his mind to follow his commands. Please, focus.

His surroundings became a blur as a pain erupted in his abdomen. He clenched his eyes shut, doubling over with the excruciating waves of heat. It felt as tiny molten blades jabbed at his insides. No, please, no.

He heard the blasts echo in his mind and the screeches that accompanied them. He could do nothing; there was only the pain, the confusion, the helplessness.

He screamed, despite his best efforts to remain quiet. He could taste the blood in his mouth from biting through his lip. Another scream escaped him, louder than the last, and then, nothing but white.

newmoon3

Zrahnz gasped, springing up and reaching for his weapon. His surroundings were still a blur as he tried to scramble to his feet.

“Easy, my Prince, easy,” Raydren said, attempting to lower him again to the ground.

Zrahnz grasped his arm with one hand and delivered a side-chop with the other. When Raydren ducked the chop, he rolled to the side and leapt to his feet, grabbing a chazren from his belt as he did so.

Raydren’s eyes widened. “Training exercise complete. Terminate!” he shouted, diving toward the Prince.

Everything in the dream room faded as Zrahnz thrashed, trying to break free from his tight hold. The chazren he had been clutching disappeared with the rest of the items in the training program.

“My Prince, please, the exercise is over. The pain is over, you’re here with me. It’s only us, Zrahnz, can you hear me? Follow my sound and come back to me, please, come back to me.”

Raydren bit back his emotion, cradling the prince in his arms. His episodes were coming more often and the level of pain was increasing.

“Zrahnz,” he said again. “I’m here with you, I’m here.”

His motion calmed when he heard Raydren’s soothing voice repeat his name. Zrahnz blinked his eyes open, trying to clear the fog from his mind.

Raydren kept one arm wrapped tightly around him and with the other, pulled a subdermal-injector from his belt. He placed it against Zrahnz’s chest, emptying the remaining medicine into his bloodstream.

Zrahnz’s body tensed with the injection and then went limp as the medicine eased the pain and lifted some of the haze filling his mind.

“Ray—Raydren.” The pain and suffering etched the word. “Raydren…help me…please, help me.”

“I’m here with you, my Prince. We’ll find a way, I promise you. We’ll find a way. I’ll never leave you. I’m here.”

Orbs of Trenihgea Excerpt

Space Station E-Alpha-1

The tufted chair collided against the wall as Gil pushed back from the table. “What the hell dob you mean, quarantine? I’m not staying on this damn station!” 

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He pointed an unsteady finger toward Malon, wiping the frothy drool from the corner of his mouth. “That montahn is going to provide the antidote now, or I’ll blast him back to that pungent, black rock he calls a planet.”

When he reached for his weapon, Strand pounded a drab stone on the table, pushing up on wobbly knees. “All of you shut up and sit down! Gil, remove your hand from that 

weapon and think. We can’t return to Earth; not like this. We need Malon’s people to deliver more of the medicine.”

“What do you propose we do, Strand?” K’aht asked. “Are we to sit here and deteriorate while those weishints roam free? I want them dead!”

“Who?” Tryndr asked, his light voice adding calm to the intensity in the room. “Who do you want dead? No one launched an attack against us. It was our own impetuosity and greed that caused this.”

Gil scoffed. “Name it what you will. This was no accident. That shipment was sabotaged.”

“How? That case never left Malon’s possession. Who in elorac do you think would’ve known it contained the means to annihilate and entire planet? Who?” Tryndr said.

Malon sighed, meeting the eyes of everyone in the council chamber. “He’s right. I didn’t tell anyone what I carried. Only two others from my planet knew I had synthesized the enhanced toxin. You were the only ones, other than our allies on Triaxeyn that were aware. Even SO-12 Sydric was only told to rendezvous with us to retrieve more of it.”

“How then? How?”

“I don’t know how.” Malon ran his webbed fingers over the ridges on his skull. “You all witnessed what took place. The vials imploded and released the toxin. Not one vial, all of them, simultaneously. Not even with the most incompetent design should that have been possible. There’s something we’re missing. And if we want to survive this, we’ll stop fighting amongst ourselves and figure it out.”

The room fell silent with only the ragged breathing of each occupant sounding in their ears.

“Brenz.” Gil gasped, pushing back from the table. His eyes darted frantically, back and forth, organizing the assailing thoughts in his mind. “Brenz. His—his com-tag…it malfunctioned toward the end of the meeting and he left.”

Strand nodded. “Yes…yes. Shortly after he left, the vials malfunctioned and released the toxin. Have any of you received a message from him? He should’ve returned the following cycle.”

Viszain’s copper eyes flared. “He hasn’t returned to the station or sent a message.”

“Is his shuttle still in the docking bay?” Strand asked.

“It’s doubtful.” Gil’s said. “I have an associate at the academy on Charznaeyah. I’ll send him a message and inquire about our missing councilmember. If he’s fled the system, we’ll know exactly where to look.”

“Do you think he’d betray us?” Ahorid asked.

“What I know is that he’s the only one of us that didn’t ingest the toxin. When have you ever known him to miss our mandatory meetings?”

“Never.”

“Once I’ve spoken with my associate, I’ll contact the Star Guild and the Order. They’ve taken significant losses. If Brenz has sided with the Triaxeynians, his fate will be as theirs, only worse.”

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Rites of Heirdron Trailer:
https://youtu.be/x1t6V0XgSLU

Rites of Heirdron Prelude (Narrated by Victor Bevine):
https://youtu.be/4slC1MMDAyc

newmoon8Aaron-Michael Hall is an award-winning author residing in Georgia (She uses the pseudonym Newland Moon exclusively for her scifan novels). Aaron-Michael writes classic epic fantasy with a grimdark edge, and science fantasy romance. Since August 2015, she has written nine full-length novels and published five. Her first novel, The Rise of Nazil has won numerous reader awards.

Now, when she is not interviewing indie authors on her Desu Beast Blog, being super mom, wrangling stampeding miniature dachshunds, or managing her 9 to 5, she is interweaving genres, creating languages, and adding just the right edge to keep you turning pages.

Aaron-Michael created the Mehlonii language for her diverse Epic Fantasy series. Along with intriguing characters, multilayered plots, new species, deities, and creatures, the Mehlonii language adds that fantastical element missing from most modern Epic/High fantasy. You can listen to samples of the spoken Mehlonii language on her website’s Mehlonii page.

When asked why she wrote this series, Aaron-Michael simply said, “It needed to be written.”

It is her hope that the readers enjoy the wonders of Faélondul and Ahmezurhran even more than she enjoyed writing about them.

You can contact Aaron-Michael via Email, her Website, Facebook, Google+, YouTube, or Twitter.

Please sign up for her Mailing List and never miss a giveaway or book release.

Author Interview Andy Peloquin #Tuesdaybookblog

Today I’m fortunate to present Andy Peloquin, author of The Last Bucelarii and Queen of Thieves series.

Hi Andy, thanks for agreeing to this interview.

Hello? Is this microphone on?

Heh, thanks so much for having me!

Question 1) What part of the world do you come from?

andyOh boy, straight to the tough questions! To sum me up: Born in Japan to French/Canadian/American parents, lived in Mexico for 15+ years. Basically, I’m from everywhere and nowhere.

10 Things You Need to Know About Me:
  1. Hot wings, ALWAYS!
  2. I never forget a face, but rarely remember a name.
  3. I’m a head taller than the average person (I’m 6′ 6″)
  4. Marvel > DC
  5. I was born in Japan, and lived there until the age of 14.
  6. Selena Gomez, Skrillex, Simon & Garfunkel, Celine Dion, and Five Finger Death Punch are all in my writing playlist.
  7. Aliens are real, but it’s self-centered of us to believe that they would come to visit Earth.
  8. Watching sports: suck. Playing sports: EPIC!
  9. I earned a purple belt in Karate/Hapkido/Taekwondo.
  10. I dislike most Christmas music, aside from Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Question 2) What do you think makes a good story?

An intriguing, realistic character with relatable problems, forced into impossible circumstances, making difficult choices to achieve outstanding changes, even if only one person’s life is changed. 

Question 3) What inspired you to write your first book?

I come from a very creative family, so the innate desire to create new things is in my blood. But I was always fascinated by the darker side of fantasy societies: thieves, criminals, assassins, thugs, and the underbelly/dregs. I wanted to write a story about a killer who you, the reader, could root for. You may not agree with his actions (killing), but you can understand and empathize with them. Thus, the Hunter of Voramis was born!

Question 4) What is your work schedule like when you’re writing?

I get about 2 hours of writing time per day, with a bit more on the weekends. I’ll usually sit down at roughly the same time every day and not stop writing until I finish the chapter, scene, or important part of the story. That usually is anywhere from 1,500 to 2,500 words per day. Given the extra time I can set aside Friday and Saturday, I’m sometimes able to hit 20,000 words in a good week.

Question 5) What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I HAVE to have at least one of three things: Winterfresh chewing gum, a coffee/hot chocolate/chai tea/something hot and sweet to drink, and a little cookie/pastry. As long as I have one of the above, I can get into the groove.

Question 6) Give us the title and genre of your latest book.

Thief of the Night Guild CoverThe latest book is Thief of the Night Guild, the second in my dark fantasy Queen of Thieves series. It follows Ilanna, a thief through the month she spends planning and executing the first bank heist ever accomplished in the fantasy world.

Question 7) What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your book?

I learned SO MUCH in this particular book. I had to research lockpicking, vaults, safes, metalsmithing, basic chemistry, and more. This was also my first serious stab at romance (and not your usual kind!), so it was a fascinating chance to look at the dynamics between people to make a believable romantic interaction. Turns out I have NO idea what real romance is like!

Question 8) Do you have an excerpt from your current work you’d like to share?

Absolutely! This is a snippet from the third and final book in the Queen of Thieves series, titled Queen of the Night Guild:

Ilanna’s hand darted to her sword. The pain of her scorched flesh didn’t stop her from drawing the blade.

“Wait!” Master Gold’s voice cracked like a whip. “Follow me.”

He scurried from the Council Chamber. Ilanna fell in step behind him, her eyes wary. Chaos reigned in the Night Guild. Cries, shouts, and the clash of steel echoed off the earthen walls of the tunnels. Yet Master Gold led them away from the tumult.

“Where are we going?” Ilanna demanded. “We need to fight.”

“No, we need to hide.”

Ilanna jerked to a stop. “What?” Fury burned in her chest. “We’re under attack, and your first thought is for your own skin?”

Master Gold shook his head. “Think about it, Ilanna. I am Master of the Night Guild. What will happen to the Guild if I am killed, or worse, captured?”

“But we don’t know who’s attacking us!” Ilanna half-turned toward the sound of fighting. “We have to find out more.”

“Does it really matter?” Master Gold’s jaw muscles worked. “Either the Duke’s Arbitors have found our tunnels, or the Bloody Hand has. There’s no heroism in dying today.”

Ilanna clenched her fists. “Damn it, Master Gold! We have to help.”

“No, we don’t.” The Guild Master shook his head. “We need to be safe. House Serpent and House Bloodbear were formed for just this eventuality. They’ve enough fighters between them to drive out a small army.”

“They’re going to get killed!”

“And they’ve known that since the first day they were chosen by their Houses. Just as you knew what would happen if you were caught in the wrong mansion.” He gripped her sword arm. “But I must live. If we are to recover from this, we will need a clear head and a firm hand to direct our next step. You know as well as I that there is no one better-suited to leading the Guild in a time like this than me. If that means I must act the coward and hide, so be it. I do it for the Guild.”

Ilanna looked in his eyes. His expression showed no sign of fear, only the cold pragmatism that had made him such a useful ally. He spoke the truth. That didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Well, you may be comfortable running and hiding, but I stand with my House!”

“With those hands?” Master Gold’s voice grew harsh. “You can barely hold that sword without wincing. You wouldn’t last two minutes in a fight.”

Ilanna wanted to argue, but the pain radiating from her scorched palms forestalled her argument.

“If you will not listen to reason, you will obey a direct command. Protect me, Journeyman Ilanna of House Hawk. Protect your Guild Master. That is an order.” Master Gold’s eyes narrowed. “And before you protest, remember that you are still a Journeyman. You have not yet been released from the oaths you swore to your House, to the Guild. To me.”

Ilanna growled low in her throat. “Damn you, Master Gold!” She had to heed his command.

“Let’s go.” Master Gold jerked his head down a side corridor. “To my office.”

The Council Chamber stood a few hundred paces from the Guild Master’s quarters, on neutral territory belonging to none of the Houses. Master Gold and Ilanna covered the distance in less than a minute.

“Secure that door.” Master Gold instructed.

Ilanna threw the deadbolt. The door, built of solid Ghandian blackwood, would keep out anything short of a battering ram.

“Now what?” Her gaze darted around the room. If they dragged Master Gold’s enormous desk in front of the door, it could buy a few more minutes.

“This way.” Master Gold strode over to a bookcase, upon which sat seven golden figurines: a hawk, a serpent, a scorpion, a bloodbear, a fox, a hound, and a grubber mole. The Guild Master pulled on the hawk. Something clicked, and the bookcase slid to one side, revealing a darkened tunnel beyond.

“Secrets within secrets, Ilanna.” The Guild Master pointed to the alchemical lamp that hung on the opposite wall. “We’ll need light.”

Ilanna darted across the room and lifted the lamp from its sconce. Once inside the hidden passage, Master Gold pressed on a stone and the bookcase slid shut without a sound.

Ilanna held up the lamp. The tunnel ran for ten paces before turning a corner. “Where does this go?” she whispered.

“To the sewer tunnels beneath the city. And to the chambers of every House Master.”

Ilanna’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

Master Gold grinned and shrugged. “There is much about the Night Guild known only to myself and the Masters I trust.”

“Master Hawk?”

The Guild Master nodded.

Relief flooded Ilanna. “So he’ll be safe.” Master Hawk could hide until the Serpents and Bloodbears dealt with the threat.

Master Gold’s expression darkened. “You’ve known Jagar Khat for years.” Sorrow filled his eyes. “Have you ever known him to back down when someone threatened his House?”

Ilanna’s gut clenched.  Master Hawk would be the first to face whatever came through the doors of the Aerie. He would protect his House, the cost be damned.

Master Gold’s hand gripped her shoulder. “You can’t go out there. You can’t save him.”

Ilanna whirled. “Damn you, Master Gold!” She drove a fist into the earthen walls.

The Guild Master’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He’ll survive this. He has to.” He spoke as if trying to convince himself.

Question 9) What can we expect from you in the future?  

SO MUCH! Once I finish this final book in my trilogy, I’ll set to work on other stories: dark fantasy romance, military fantasy, literary fantasy, a dark fantasy murder mystery story featuring this character Ilanna (from the Queen of Thieves series) and the Hunter of Voramis (from my The Last Bucelarii series), and many, many more. I may even wander into the Urban Fantasy genre to put out a few short stories, novels, or even a trilogy.

Question 10) What was the best money you ever spent as a writer? 

A pair of glasses. Heh, it sounds silly, but I refused to wear glasses for a year or two after I needed them. When I finally bit the bullet and bought a pair, it made all the time I spent on my computer so much less exhausting.

Question 11) How can we contact you or find out more about your books?

You can find me EVERYWHERE as Andy Peloquin. I’ve added all my links below—feel free to check them out, join the club, and enter my dark fantasy world!

Website: http://www.andypeloquin.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AndyPeloquin
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andyqpeloquin
Fan Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1383986274994456/
YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8KnIEoUDWRJkAhJ16CN5Dw
Reader List Sign-Up: http://andypeloquin.com/join-the-club/
Fantasy Fiends Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheFantasyFiends/
Follow on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/andy-peloquin