12 December 2016

Christmas Countdown Blitz - Day 7!





Railyn Stone, author of The Christmas Tree Guy, A Secret to Keep, Restored Hearts and Lest We Aren't Forgiven, lives in North Carolina with her husband. When she's not behind the screen of her laptop, she's usually enjoying time with her family. The only child of two educators, she learned early on just how magical words can be.

Q & A With The Author:
1.  Describe yourself in 50 words or less.
            This is one of the hardest things for me to do, but I would say that I’m a kid at heart, a child of God and a lover of all things romance.

2. What do you love most in the world?
            My family is what I love most in this world. I’d be truly lost without them. They mean everything to me.

3. What do you fear most?


            I fear most that I will never find my true purpose in life.


Connect with the Author here: 


EnVee McAlister just bought a house. It’s an old Victorian home that needs a lot of work, especially if she wants to get into it by Christmas.

Logan Edwards is the contractor she’s hired to help her. Unfortunately, he’s not like any man she’s ever encountered and his arrogance and crass demeanor is making it hard to deal with him. Both she and Logan hold no punches and their terribly blunt personalities clash like oil and water.

But when she finds out about Logan’s tragic past, it forces her to deal with her own insecurities and emotions she’s desperately tried to forget. And instead of a house for Christmas, EnVee receives something she never expected.






Snippet:

Logan scanned the living room. It was eerily silent in the humongous house. He’d been pleasantly surprised at how well it had stood the test of time. Granted, there were a lot of things that were going to have to be replaced, but all in all, the structure was very sturdy. He liked old houses. It was impressive to him the amount of time and care that was put into each one and he liked the fact they were reliable homes. Nothing like the thrown together fabrications a lot of homes were made out of nowadays. There was nothing wrong with the homes of the present, but he had an affinity for any home that was more than seventy years old. It meant some time had gone into its construction and more than likely there was a story behind it. He was about to turn to head up the creaky stairs when he heard a car pull up outside and he walked to the front of the house. He was there to meet Ms. N.V. McAlister to do a walk through and get her specifications on the changes she wanted made in order to get started on the blueprints. He hoped she didn’t want to make too many changes to the home. It was beautiful the way it was and he could only imagine the big shot she must be would want to modernize every single thing about the house. By the time she was done, it would probably resemble the house from Beetlejuice. He grimaced at the thought of it, clutching his iPad in his hands and opened the door. He waited patiently as the black Audi rolled to a stop and a well-heeled and very shapely leg exited the open driver door followed by another. He headed down the steps of the front porch and his eyes widened when the driver emerged from the car. You have got to be kidding me. That can’t be…
“Hello, I’m En…” Both seemed to come to the same realization at the same time. He watched her remove her sunglasses and could see the memory of their first encounter flash through her eyes. “You. What are you doing here?”
Logan swallowed hard and tried his best to control the level of his voice. He could only think about how rude she’d been to him and Gracie a little more than a week ago and it looked like the favor he’d done her hadn’t changed her disposition. “I’m Logan Edwards. You contracted me to do this job.” He almost got a strange satisfaction from seeing her face fall knowing she had hired him to work on her house project.
“I spoke with another gentleman.” She pursed her lips and he noticed for the first time, the small beauty mark she had right above the left side of her deep plum stained lips. The night they’d first met, he’d been too preoccupied with her haughty attitude to notice she was a beautiful woman. Her auburn hair was pulled back from her perfectly made up face. And her almond shaped eyes had a russet tint just a tad darker than her hair. Her shapely body was covered in a tailored black pinstripe suit. She had ample curves kept toned by workouts no doubt, but still had the kind of womanly body that could keep a man up all night. He blinked and tried to think of anything else because he was a little thrown by his own admiration of her.
“My brother, Alex. He and I run the business together.”
“Well, this isn’t going to work.”
Logan breathed deep remembering the words of his brother. Behave yourself. Lots of money riding on this. Big opportunities. Aw, hell. “Look lady, I’m here to do a job. We’re the best you’re going to find when it comes to a task like this. You’ve already signed a contract and I do have other projects I need to tend to today. So if we could just get started, the quicker this is over, the faster you can go back to your ivory tower.” Alex was going to kill him.
Her eyes narrowed and he could see her frustration and anger building. “I would think you would be a little more professional when you first meet someone to do business with them.”
“I would, but this isn’t our first meeting and I’m just giving what I get. I would think you would want to be nicer to the person that’s going to restore your new home, but that isn’t the case is it?” He tilted his head and gave her the most insolent smile he could muster. Who does this woman think she is? 
“I will not stand here being talked to this way. You are working for me and you could learn a thing or two about customer service.” She started up the steps to the house, pausing for a moment before she reached the top and turned. “Are you coming or will I need to do this alone?”
Logan’s jaw twitched watching her very curvy bottom twist from side to side as she continued to ascend the stairs. His dentist would chastise him during his next scheduled appointment from gritting his teeth down to nubs. He was going to be nuts by the time this job was over. Dear God, give me strength.


To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our Official Event page 




@teresaesargeant Ethical Strains: A Short Story By Teresa Edmond-Sargeant


 Ethical Strains:
A Short Story
By Teresa Edmond-Sargeant
Genre: Dystopian, Fantasy SciFi
In a dystopian future, a rogue journalist uncovers what may be a revolutionary scientific discovery: a way for DNA to be extracted from the bodies of 'morally sound' people and injecting them into criminals as a way to reduce recidivism, and therefore the overpopulated prison system.

The street was as quiet as the dead that lay in the cemetery. Jacob crouched outside the metal gate in the shadows. The moonlight waxed silver onto the graveyard’s greenery, giving off a choral glow of peace and terror. Jacob’s heart pounded, refusing to allow the silence to tease him into thinking the street was empty. He moved his hand to his side, above the holster that cradled his gun around his waist.
Jacob extended his arm – covered with the sleeve of his leather jacket – and glanced at his digital wristwatch. 10:10. He returned his attention to the street. The wind escorted the fallen leaves along the deserted sidewalk, scratching the pavement.
She said she’d be here at 10. She did say she’ll be late.
He moved his hand away from the gun and adjusted his collar. He paced in front of the cemetery gate, his mind an agitated rush of thoughts.
Down the street, two uniformed soldiers with ammunition strapped to their bodies marched on opposite corners of the intersection. Emotional rigidity hardened their faces, while the shadows that their hulking physiques cast swept the concrete. Jacob tried to study the face of one of them, but it was difficult with the masked helmet obscuring the soldier’s face.
For twenty years I haven’t seen a street without soldiers. Doesn’t matter if I’m a kid or I'm now working as a reporter underground – things haven’t changed. Those government goons are always on people’s backs, always patrolling these streets. The beatings, the arrests, the murders. It’s a miracle I’m still alive.
Receding further into the shadows, Jacob pressed his back against the cemetery gate’s brick wall.
So many laws I’m breaking –hanging out in the streets after 10, meeting with someone crazy enough to tell me at this time she has an exclusive. What’s next? Grave robbing?
The soft shuffle of footsteps made Jacob look up. Across the street, a woman broke through the screen of darkness and crossed the street. Her low heels tapped on asphalt, while the faint moonlight unveiled her petite hourglass frame cloaked in a trench coat. A purple floral scarf covered her head, face and neck; only her eyes revealed a personal aspect.
“Jacob? Jacob Franklin?”
Jacob nodded. “That’s me.”
The woman untied her scarf and presented a gloved hand. “I am Dr. Sydney Pelham. We have spoken over the telephone. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I apologize for my tardiness. I had an imperative appointment that ran long. This this meeting is unusual, but given the nature of my overall work, we have to be discreet. Although I work for the government counseling prisoners, the information I’m about to disclose with you is quite crucial.”
Jacob nodded. Discreet. Somehow by the time I’m done here, that word will reek of irony.
Dr. Pelham began walking. “Follow me. I know a way underground that will lead us to my experiments.”
Jacob shadowed her. “Experiments, yeah, I remember you mentioning about them.”
Dr. Pelham chuckled. “Actually, it is more than that. It is a cause. I could not divulge the details to you over the phone because someone might have tapped the lines. You have reservations about meeting a mad scientist, quote-unquote. But given that we have so many problems surrounding us – with the rampant criminal activities and the federal government demanding the construction of more prisons at taxpayers’ expense – you will understand there is a method to my alleged madness.”
Jacob wondered if it were possible to withhold his sweat from bursting onto his forehead, similar to how people could hold back tears. As a self-proclaimed maverick journalist working with a ring of underground reporters, he didn’t dare to give Dr. Pelham the impression he was shaken at the ideal of being among “experiments.”
Their footsteps crunched the fallen leaves under streetlights that cast a dim, bluish-white glow on the foliage. Both turned a corner and into the woods behind the cemetery. They walked another few yards, and then Dr. Pelham stopped. Jacob almost bumped into her.
“We’re here,” Dr. Pelham said.
She looked around and crouched down; her modest length skirt rode up her leg. With her gloved hands, she cleared the leaves to reveal a wooden trap door. She retrieved some keys on a chain from her coat pocket and unlocked the door. The pair descended the staircase into a brick tunnel. Water drops echoed and the coldness bore down on Jacob.
Teresa Edmond-Sargeant is an Orlando, FL-based poet, author and journalist originally from northern New Jersey. Her poetry has appeared in anthologies featuring NJ poets. During her time as a reporter in Jersey, she won two NJ Press Association awards.
In 2006, she published her debut poetry book, "How Fate's Confusion Connects"; the book's second edition will be released later in 2014. She is the author of three (so far;-)) Amazon Kindle ebooks: "Eve the First," "An Estella Exclusive" and "Ethical Strains," all short stories.
Edmond-Sargeant is a member of the Florida State Poets Association. She is now a staff writer for The Apopka Chief, a newspaper that covers the Apopka, FL, area (http://www.theapopkachief.com).







Unraveling The Pieces by Terri DuLong Book Tour!

 
 Dog Eared Publicity is pleased to bring you Terri DuLong's UNRAVELING THE PIECES virtual book tour November 22 - December 16!

Inside the Book:


Title: Unraveling the Pieces
Author: Terri DuLong
Release Date: November 22, 2016
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Genre: Women's Fiction
Format: Ebook/Paperback

"DuLong reminds me of a Southern Debbie Macomber but with a flair all her own." --Karin Gillespie

New York Times bestselling author Terri DuLong casts on her newest tale of heartbreak and hope in Ormond Beach, Florida, a sun-dappled haven where one woman finds the comfort she's always needed...

Petra Garfield has no real attachments tying her down to one place. She's ready for an adventure, so what could be better than an extended stay at Koi House with new friends and old in enchanting Ormond Beach. Having recently lost her mother, Petra is riddled with questions about the father she never knew. She certainly never thought she'd begin to find the answers in a tiny town in Florida...

As much as she wants to search for the truth, Petra knows she can't spend all her time wallowing in the past, and her friends at the Dreamweaver yarn shop aren't about to let her. The ladies encourage her to volunteer at a local animal shelter, where she hits it off with a young boy--and his handsome father. Tangled in secrets she didn't even know she had, Petra must learn to stitch her life back together even as she unravels lifelong mysteries--and perhaps she'll find unexpected happiness along the way...

Includes An Original Knitting Pattern! Praise for Terri DuLong's Cedar Key Novels

Meet the Author:

Born and raised north of Boston, Terri DuLong was a previous resident of Cedar Key, Florida. She now resides on the east coast of the state in Ormond Beach with her husband, three dogs and two cats. A retired Registered Nurse, she began her writing career as a contributing writer for Bonjour Paris, where she shared her travel experiences to France in over forty articles with a fictional canine narrator. Terri’s love of knitting provides quiet time to develop her characters and plots as she works on her new Ormond Beach novels.

You can visit her website at www.terridulong.com or at her Facebook fan page, www.facebook.com/TerriDuLongAuthor

——————

Tour Schedule

 Tuesday, November 22 - Book reviewed at Babbling About Books and More
Wednesday, November 23 - Book featured at The Bookworm Lodge
Book featured at 3 Partners in Shopping
Thursday, November 24 - Book reviewed at Books, Dreams, Life
Book featured at Kindle and Me
Friday, November 25 - Book featured at Mello and June
________

Monday, November 28 - Book reviewed at A Little Bit of R&R
Tuesday, November 29 - Book featured at What is That Book About
Wednesday, November 30 - Book featured at CBY Book Club
Book featured at Authors and Readers Book Corner
Thursday, December 1- Book featured at Just Us Book Blog
Friday, December 2 - Book featured at Bound 2 Escape
________

Monday December 5 - Book featured at A Title Wave
Tuesday, December 6 - Book reviewed at Storeybook Reviews
Wednesday, December 7 - Book featured at Harmonious Publicity
Thursday, December 8 - Interviewed at Deal Sharing Aunt
Friday, December 9 - Book featured at Write and Take Flight
________

Monday, December 12 - Book featured at Celticlady's Reviews
Tuesday, December 13 - Book featured at Lover of Literature
Wednesday, December 14 - Guest blogging at Books by Centeno
Thursday, December 15 - Interviewed at Infinite House of Books
Friday, December 16 - Book reviewed at I'm Shelf-ish
________

Abandoned by Elisa Dane Book Blitz!


When heartbreak happens over the holidays … My name is Tierra Owens, and I like to kiss. A lot. It numbs the hollow ache in my chest and—for a few minutes—makes me forget how truly alone I am. My mother is an alcoholic. She hates me and insists I'm the reason she's not married to my father, whom I have never met. My best friend, Kaylee, is the only person who knows the real me. Everyone else sees what I want them to: a happy, confident, popular girl who has the world at her feet. I am a fraud. Relationships are forbidden. I avoid them at all costs. Sex? Emotions? Those things make a person vulnerable, and vulnerability always leads to heartbreak. When my childhood crush, Mattie shows up at school my world tumbles off its axis. The shell I surround myself with feels more like a pathetic crutch than a protective barrier, and I find myself wanting things. Daydreaming about what it would be like to have a boyfriend, a relationship—love. The sad fact is: I'll never have any of those things. I am unworthy—trash. Which is why my mom abandoned me. *Recommended for readers ages 15+

 Kissing: You're either good at it, or you suck. Zachary Harris sucked at kissing. Actually, it wasn't so much that he sucked. It was more like he slobbered. All over my chin. My neck. My ears. My skin felt like flypaper—sticky and gross. Then, of course, there was the issue of the very prominent bulge grinding furiously against my hip. With a groan, Dirk Diggler in disguise muttered a low "f*ck" and licked a gooey trail across my collarbone. "God, you smell good. I want to lick you all over and make you scream." I gagged. Captain Slobber was, indeed, on a fast track to making me scream, but not in the way he intended. I didn't care how popular he was—if I had to endure another second of his gross, reptilian tongue slithering over my flesh I'd vomit. All over him.

It was a damn good thing kissing can be taught. This guy needed a crash course, stat. Calloused fingers trailed a back-and-forth pattern between the hem of my top and the waistband of my jeans. My skin tingled from the soft caress and I dug my fingers into his hair, desperate to feel close, needing the contact, and ashamed of myself for getting it this way. When his fingers began fiddling with the button on my jeans, I shut him down. "That right there is a no-parking zone, baby." I slid my hand from his arm to his shoulder and shoved. "You need to slow down." A pair of dark eyebrows slashed over a set of brilliant blue eyes, the skin between them creasing in confusion. "Slow down? But we were just getting started." He sat back on his hip, his gaze falling to my bed, then to my half-unbuttoned shirt.

The right side of his mouth curled up into a wolfish grin. "I thought this was what you wanted. I mean … you did bring me into your bedroom. I thought you were hot for some action." Heat prickled across my skin like wildfire. I was hot, all right. Just not for him. The sooner he realized that, the better. No guy got past second base with me. Ever. The stupid craving I had to feel close to another person was just that: stupid. Sex, emotions … They make you vulnerable. And vulnerable got you hurt.

 ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

 Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElisaDane/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/ElisaDane Website: http://www.elisadane.com Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorelisadane/?hl=en
 
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@michaelbolan225 The Stone Bridge: Book III of the Devil’s Bible Series Book Release!


Why should history be boring? Throw away the text books which boil our past down to a dreary series of names, dates and places. Immerse yourself in a world of passion and intrigue, where a ragtag band of individuals battles the might of Empires and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Book Info:
Title: The Stone Bridge: Book III of the Devil’s Bible Series
Author: Michael Bolan
Official Launch Date: December 1st, 2016
Publication Date: December 1st, 2016
Price: $2.99
Pages: TBD

Blurb:

The Rapture continues to wreak havoc across Europe in its quest to acquire the elemental Seals, the only thing preventing the Devil’s Bible from purging the world in fire. Brought to Prague by the Fianna, the Seals’ only protection lies in the secrecy that shrouds them.
Reinald, leader of the Rapture, enlists the world’s greatest minds to free the Devil’s Bible from the depths of Prague Castle, where it has languished under lock and key for centuries. Meanwhile, the plans of the Four Horsemen unfold, wreaking havoc and misery across the entire continent.  
Not content with forcing his siblings from their ancestral home, Reinald sends a vast army to harry and persecute them, forcing them to flee ever eastwards. Taking shelter with their friends, Willem, Leo and Isabella commit to one last act of bravery, making a final stand to defend the city of Prague.
As each nation commits its final resources into the conflict, all roads lead to the Stone Bridge that divides Prague, where the Sons of Brabant and their Fianna allies will face the ultimate test of their strength.
Praise for the Devil’s Bible Series
“Meticulously researched and intelligently written, The Sons of Brabant spins itself out gradually, culminating in an especially action-packed climax.”
“There is plague, war, intrigue, back-stabbing, love, and obsession – something for the whole family!”
“A fantastic mix of myth, religious references, fact and fiction layered on to the Thirty Years War.”
“Joyce, Beckett and Behan... meet Bolan. This is a classic sit-by-the-Aga and have a cup of tea page-turner.”
“The Sons of Brabant is a wonderfully crafted novel. This is the best start to a series I've read in quite a while.”
Buy Links:
Barnes & Noble:
Kobo:
iTunes:

Author Bio:

Michael Bolan: nomadic Irish storyteller
C:\Users\Michael\Desktop\SOTKOB\Images\Michael Bolan 1.JPGIt took Michael Bolan over two decades of running in the corporate rat race to realise that all he actually did was tell stories.

There was no Damascene revelation for Bolan which caused him to pen his first work of fiction, "The Sons of Brabant". An avid reader, he simply felt that he could do as good a job as many of the authors he read and decided to put his money where his mouth was.

Living and working in many countries left him with smatterings of a dozen languages and their stories, and his love for history focused his ideas on the Thirty Years War, the most destructive conflict that the continent has ever seen.

Now living in Prague (again), Michael brings alive the twisted alleys of the 17th century and recreates the brooding darkness of a fractured Europe, where no-one was entirely sure who was fighting whom.

Michael writes while liberally soused in gin, a testament to Franz
de le Boë, who was mixing oil of juniper with neat spirit while the thirty Years War raged around him.

His website (http://www.michaelbolan.org) is a place where he can post his thoughts and feelings – along with reviews of books he finds lying around the internet.

My Top 10 Books:
  1. Foucault’s Pendulum – Umberto Eco
  2. Magician – Raymond Feist
  3. A History of the World in 10½ Chapters – Julian Barnes
  4. Mort – Terry Pratchett
  5. Animal Farm – George Orwell
  6. The Sett – Ranulph Fiennes
  7. Catch 22 – Joseph Heller
  8. Lord of the Rings – JRR Tolkien
  9. On the Beach – Nevil Shute
  10. Gods and Fighting Men – Lady Augusta Gregory

10 Things You Need to Know About Me:
  1. I read fast, but forget details after a while.
  2. I love music and listen to it constantly, but can neither sing nor play an instrument.
  3. I’m a cat person.
  4. Gin
  5. I was born in Northern Ireland, but have lived in ten countries since leaving.
  6. I can hold a conversation in seven languages yet struggle to find the right words when I write.
  7. I’m actually an introvert, but most people would never realise.
  8. Rugby
  9. Coffee should be drunk black, without sugar or milk. Or syrup. Or marshmallows. Just coffee.
  10. I think of conversation topics and rehearse before social interactions.
More from Michael
Sometimes I wonder how I became a writer. The answer is, like so many things, by accident. My story began five years ago, when I found myself scratching my head, wondering what to do with two teenage boys who were coming to visit their uncle, bringing with them that unique mix of childlike curiosity and teenage insouciance?
You see, I come from Ireland, but I live in Prague. The Bohemian capital where I live is an amazing city, which is why we are continuously inundated with requests to come and stay with us. I used to think it was our charm and hospitality, but it has since dawned on me that a large apartment within walking distance of Wenceslas Square, the scene of the 1989 Velvet Revolution, might be part of the draw.
When my brother suggested he bring his family to visit, I graciously accepted. When he suggested I come up with an entertainment program for his teenage boys, I was daunted.
But Prague is an amazing city which caters for over a million tourists a year, so we managed to put together an interesting itinerary, complete with dinosaurs, torture implements and battlegrounds. Dinner came in the form of large chunks of roasted meat in a medieval restaurant, washed down with my nephews’ first beer as performers breathed fire and played bagpipes.
And then it all went pear-shaped. The elder nephew turned to me, his brow creased in thought. “Why is this restaurant called The King of Brabant?” he asked. “Isn’t Brabant in Belgium?” I must confess, he caught me off guard, as my attention was divided between the frothing tankard being set in front of me and the buxom wench serving it. “Aha!” I responded with faux confidence, “Don’t you know the tale of the Sons of Brabant?” But instead of being satisfied with my throwaway comment, he persisted. “No. I don’t. Tell us…”
And so the Devil’s Bible Series was born. For three days, we wandered the streets of Prague together as I regaled them with a heady mix of history, story and utter fantasy. Every so often, there would be a reference to the Swedish invasion of Prague, or the Battle of White Mountain, or the infamous Defenestration – enough for my nephews to wonder if I was telling the truth or making up a good story.
A few things, like a full-time job, newborn son and plain procrastination got in the way of me putting pen to paper, until a few years later, when I was staying with my parents-in-law, and had a small disagreement with my wife. Bored of my artistic frustration, she barked at me to “go away and write a book”, and I did just that. I sat down at the dining table, opened my laptop and churned out eleven thousand words. To this day, that is my most productive single session.
When I had been writing for some weeks, a thought struck me. How long is a book? When I found out that a first novel tends to run between seventy and ninety thousand words, I thought I might check my wordcount. At well over a hundred thousand and rising, I knew I had a problem. With the help of my friends, the broader writing community, NaNoWriMo and some fierce editing, I created a story that spanned a dozen countries and almost as many genres. So my book became three, and the last one is released on December 1st, bringing to an end a three-year journey.
My advice to anyone looking to write their first book? Look for inspiration in the least expected places. When the lightbulb moment comes, and you find a story that leaps out onto the page, when you find yourself casting about dementedly for a pencil to jot down your ideas before they slip from your mind – then you will know. It may be a novel or short story, a poem or a blogpost. Dive in, meet your inner child and most of all, enjoy. Know that it is hard work, and requires steely will power and just a sprinkling of crazed ambition. And don’t let that day-job get in the way – remember, John Grisham used to wake at 4am to spend three hours every day writing his first novel, before commuting to the office where he worked as a lawyer.

Writing is easy. Having someone read what you have written is hard. Having a professional challenge what you have created is one of the most intimate experiences you will ever have. But it will all be worth it when you sell your first book.
First two books in the series!


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