March Paranormal and Fantasy Event: The Rose of Par Kluhnd by Linda Ash

Rose isn't sure she wants to be captain of her soccer team, much less queen of a strange place - that's about to be overrun by invaders. When Rose slips into a strange world where her grandmother may have been a queen, she just wants to get home. But when enemies seek her out, finding a way home may be the least of Rose's worries... and then, there's that empty throne waiting, possibly, for her.


Read the excerpt!

As the sun set and the light began to wane they moved outside to enjoy a mild evening on the back porch. Rose sank into the cushiony comfort of a lawn chair while Eris ran into the flower garden, begging her grandmother to come with her, “C’mon Grandma, let’s chase fireflies.”

Her grandmother laughed. “Okay,” she said, stepping off of the porch and into the garden. “But remember to stay close to the house.”

Eris turned back to her sister. “Come with us, Rose, don’t just sit there.”

Rose ignored her sister, though. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She just wanted to relax. Eris didn’t give up and kept calling every few minutes. Finally Rose opened her eyes. It did look like fun. It was getting quite dark. Her grandmother had just caught two fireflies at once and Eris was peeking into her cupped-together hands, watching the glow through a small opening between her grandmother’s fingers.

Rose got up and joined the fun, chasing first this blink, and then the next. She followed one firefly out of the garden and into the meadow, only to lose it. She waited until it blinked again, this time a little deeper into the meadow. She ran toward it and when it went out she kept her eye on its darkened shape as it drifted still further away. She caught up to the hovering shape and when it blinked, she reached out to close her hand gently around it in triumph.

As she did so, three things happened. She heard her grandmother’s voice calling to her. She realized that she was no longer in the meadow but had run two steps along one of the paths into the wood. And without warning a huge, antlered buck bounded suddenly out of the trees at her right.

The massive animal, snorting a warning, leapt across the path and disappeared into the darkness of the forest, leaving Rose’s heart pounding in surprise. Rose heard her grandmother’s voice again. It sounded frantic and far away. She turned to call back and got a shock, her grandmother wasn’t there. The meadow wasn’t there. She stared instead into a shadowy forest that melted away into the surrounding night. Turning completely around, she saw nothing but trees vanishing into dense darkness wherever she looked. And then she heard a growl.

She jumped when a voice sounded in her ear, “Quick, climb up on the rock!” She spun to see who was there and saw only darkness and forest.

“There isn’t time for spinning!” the voice shouted. “Climb up on the rock, now!”

Rose looked to her left and was surprised to see the looming shape of a large boulder. Another growl came from somewhere in the darkness. Immediately she did as the mysterious voice urged, and very quickly she climbed to the top of the boulder.

Confusion played with the fear that began to tingle through her body. She couldn’t remember any boulders this big at the edge of the wood by her grandmother’s meadow – and her grandmother’s meadow had just turned into a forest. She looked down from her perch at the boulder’s top. Shining eyes stared up at her. “A coyote!” she thought, and soon there were others.

Before she could even think of what to do, a small light, pulsing in a spectrum of colors, appeared suddenly at her shoulder and dove at the animals below.

Incredibly the light spoke, “This isn’t what you’re after,” it shouted. “Go chase your buck and leave us alone!”

Rose gasped as one of the animals leapt and snapped at the light. Suddenly the single light was joined by what seemed like hundreds more. They swarmed the animals, flashing and pulsing in a myriad of colors. The coyotes yelped and danced around, snapping at the lights before finally being driven off by them into the dark wood.

One of the lights rose up and hovered in front of Rose’s nose. She was astonished to see that it wasn’t a light at all, but a tiny, winged person – a man, in fact. Swirling patterns of luminescence whirled over his face and body, as if fluttering ribbons of light had been tattooed onto his skin. Multi-hued pulses coursed over them, shining through his clothing. Dragonfly wings of shimmery, translucent silver fluttered at his back. She stared in awe.

The tiny person’s brow filled with serious furrows. “The wolves may be back soon, come quickly and we’ll lead you to safety.”

Rose blinked. “Wolves?” A vision of them, large and dark and coming after her, filled her head, pushing out images of their more timid, yipping counterparts. “They aren’t coyotes?”

“Coyotes?” said the man, “No, they’re wolves and they may be back. Hurry! Get down and come with us.”

Rose didn’t argue. She half scrambled, half leapt off the boulder. “Are you taking me to my grandmother?” she asked as her feet hit the ground. Her bright companion hovered by her face. The other colorful beings, each with shimmering silver or gold or jewel-like wings, formed a perimeter around them and then went dark.

“I don’t know,” the man said, “if she lives in the town, then yes. Quickly, follow me, and keep up! The others are still around us, though you may not see them.”

The word ‘fairy’ had popped into Rose’s head. She began to form the question on her lips to ask if he was a fairy. The chance was lost when, quick as a flash, the fairy person flew down a path in the direction that should have taken Rose back to her grandmother’s meadow, but instead went on and on through a forest that should not have been there.

Read the reviews!

Rose of Par Kluhnd: A Fairy Tale is an innocent but intelligent tale. Written in the classic style of children’s writers such as C.S. Lewis the language is evocative of another age. ... Ash's characters are appealing and realistic, even the mythological beings which, along with Rose's happily ever after ending, make this story 'a fairy tale'."

- Books, off the page book reviews

Look for The Rose of Par Kluhnd at:
 
Amazon (Kindle edition and paperback): http://www.amazon.com/Rose-Par-Kluhnd-Fairy-ebook/dp/B004INHRJ2/

Barnes and Noble (Nookbook): http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Rose-of-Par-Kluhnd/Linda-Ash/e/2940011178979/


Linda Ash currently lives in northeast Ohio with her husband, two college-age kids, a few cats and one dog. She loves to read, write, garden, spin, knit, weave, and go for walks with her dog in the neighborhood park. Her background is in anthropology, but she has been known to dabble in physics and mathematics.

Visit Linda online at:


blog: http://www.blogofauthorlindaash.blogspot.com/

Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Linda-Ash/131977026870650

March Paranormal and Fantasy Event: The Sapphire Flute, Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga by Karen E. Hoover

It has been 3,000 years since a white mage has been seen upon Rasann.


In the midst of a volcanic eruption miles outside of her village, Ember discovers she can see magic and change the appearance of things at will. Against her mother's wishes, she leaves for the mage trials only to be kidnapped before arriving. In trying to escape, she discovers she has inherited her father's secret--a secret that places her in direct conflict with her father's greatest enemy.

At the same time, Kayla is given guardianship of the sapphire flute and told not to play it. The evil mage C'Tan has been searching for it for decades and the sound alone is enough to call her. For the flute to be truly safe, Kayla must find its birthplace in the mountains high above Javak. The girls' paths are set on a collision course...a course that C'Tan is determined to prevent at all costs.

Read an excerpt at http://karen-hoover.blogspot.com/p/sample-chapters.html!

Read the reviews!

"Teens and fantasy readers will find interesting magic and a creative mythology in this book and readers of all ages will find appropriate content. It is a fun, safe read in a market where that is not always the case in YA fiction. Both girls face difficult decisions morally and ethically. Though they are not perfect, they learn from each mistep and are supported in each right choice. "

--Inking Cap

"My ultimate test of the quality of a YA book is whether I would recommend it to my teenage daughter. In the case of The Sapphire Flute, the answer to that question is a resounding “YES.” I can hardly wait for the second book in the series. Karen Hoover deserves congratulations for a wonderful debut."

--Craig Everett's Anopisthographic Chronicles

" it is very well done, creative, and delivers a satisfying, climactic ending with enough resolution to hold the reader over until the next installment. There's an anticipation for the sequel, but the characters are in a good enough place...for now. It was a good reading experience, and I look forward to the next book."

--Nancy Campbell Allen

You can read my review at http://childrensandteensbookconnection.wordpress.com/2010/03/20/the-sapphire-flute-book-one-of-the-wolfchild-saga-by-karen-e-hoover/.

Karen E. Hoover has loved the written word for as long as she can remember. Her favorite memory of her dad is the time he spent with Karen on his lap, telling her stories for hours on end. Her dad promised he would have Karen reading on her own by the time she was four years old … and he very nearly did. Karen took the gift of words her dad gave her and ran with it. Since then, she’s written two novels and reams of poetry. Her head is fairly popping with ideas, so she plans to write until she’s ninety-four or maybe even a hundred and four.

Inspiration is found everywhere, but Karen’s heart is fueled by her husband and two sons, the Rocky Mountains, her chronic addiction to pens and paper, and the smell of her laser printer in the morning.

Visit Karen online at http://karen-hoover.blogspot.com/ . Karen is on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/pages/Karen-E-Hoover/131784307933?v=wall&ref=ts and Twitter at http://twitter.com/#!/karenehoover.

March Paranormal and Fantasy Event: The Wolf of Tebron by C.S. Larkin

All Joran wanted was to live a peaceful life in his forested village of Tebron. But when his wife, Charris, is captured by the Moon in a whisk of magic, he must go on a grueling journey to the four corners of the world to rescue her. On his way, he befriends a wolf named Ruyah who becomes a trusted companion while he solves riddles and eventually battles the Moon to save his wife.


Read the Prologue at http://www.gatesofheavenseries.com/

Read the reviews!

"If this first installment is any indication, The Gates of Heaven promises to be one of the best fantasy series to come along in quite some time. One of the signs of this potential is its ability to hook you into its world at page one and leave you saying, 'just one more page' or 'just one more chapter,' That has happened to me before with Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia, Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, and Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising. Now C. S. Lakin has done the same."

~ Jonathon Svendsen, Narniafans.com

"The Wolf of Tebron is a fine take on the fairy tale, highly recommended."

~ Midwest Book Review

"The Wolf of Tebron is a grand, sweeping tale of one man's journey to the truth and to rescue his true love. While I joined the dots fairly early on as to the wolf's true identity as well as what he represents in the story, it is carefully constructed to allow different readers to discover the connections at their own pace. This fanciful, whimsical, wild tale can truly inspire you to perseverance - highly recommended. My personal tip: watch this author, she's going places!"

~ Grace Bridges, Splashdown Reviews

You can read my review at http://childrensandteensbookconnection.wordpress.com/2010/12/21/the-wolf-of-tebron-by-c-s-lakin/.

C. S. Lakin writes novels in numerous genres, focusing mostly on contemporary psychological mysteries and allegorical fantasy. Her novel, Someone to Blame (contemporary fiction), won the 2009 Zondervan First Novel competition 2009, with a publication date of October 2010 and soon to be followed by a prestigious Christy Award nomination.


Lakin’s three fantasy novels in the Gates of Heaven series have been contracted with AMG-Living Ink Publishers. The first book in the series, The Wolf of Tebron, released July 2010. The Map across Time (March 2011) and The Land of Darkness (September 2011) are the next installments to follow in this stand-alone series of fairy tales for adults.


Her contemporary mystery, Innocent Little Crimes, made the top one hundred finalists in the 2009 Amazon Breakout Novel Award contest, earning her a Publisher’s Weekly review that noted her book was “a page-turning thrill-ride that will have readers holding their breaths the whole way through.”


Lakin grew up collating television scripts for her screenwriter mother. As an adult, Susanne assisted in developing series for television, and while raising two daughters and running a bed and breakfast inn in northern California wrote her first three novels and a cookbook. She currently works as a freelance copyeditor and writing mentor, specializing in helping authors prepare their books for publication. She is a member of The Christian PEN (Proofreaders and Editors Network), CEN (Christian Editor Network), San Francisco Editors Guild, CAN (Christian Authors Network—regular blogger), ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers), and two regional writers’ groups. She edits for individuals, small publishing companies, and literary agents, guest blogs of the craft of writing, and is an occasional contest judge.


She recently completed her ninth book: Conundrum (her fourth psychological mystery) and her tenth: The Unraveling of Wentwater, book four in the fantasy series. She has also written the first book in a Young Adult sci-fi adventure series: Time Sniffers. She is currently writing Intended for Harm, a contemporary take-off on the biblical story of Jacob and Joseph.

You can visit the author online at http://cslakin.com/.

March Paranormal and Fantasy Event: Odessa by Rebecca Ryals Russell

17-year-old Myrna is drawn into the middle of an epic battle between Seraphym and Demons. An average High School student from Florida, struggling with inner demons resulting from an attack when she was 15, she wakes one morning on the Steampunk planet of Dracwald, home of the demon-dragons responsible for her brother’s recent murder as well as many other atrocities in the news. She meets sweet and sensitive Michael, who explains that according to prophecy, Myrna must gather the remaining six Vigorios (teen warriors with special talents) then train with the Majikals on an enchanted island. He accompanies her on the quest, but harbors a secret past that ironically would destroy all the faith she has placed in him. A handsomely roguish Scientist with suspect motives haunts her dreams and makes sudden appearances in unlikely places, while a sensual dragon warrior defends her against her will.


Will love and lust, jealousy, greed, deceit and distrust break the delicate tie that binds these teen warriors called The Vigorios? Can a troupe of teens help the Seraphym finally defeat the massive empire of evil dominated for eons by the demon-dragons of Dracwald?

Read an excerpt!

Chapter One


I floated on wings of silence like a piece of driftwood at sea. Colored gases swirled around me like silk scarves, brushing against my bare arms and legs. It delighted my senses and tingled nerve endings. For as far as I could see, a myriad of colors swam and twirled dipping and rolling around particles of dark matter and glittering specs of sunbeams in miniature cosmos.

Was this a dream? I didn’t remember falling asleep. In fact, I didn’t remember anything at all. Soft singing and the sharp but pleasant ringing of bells echoed around me. I opened my eyes—had they been shut? Thousands of glimmering radiant beings hovered in the rainbow cosmic cloud. So beautiful. So peaceful. My eyes drifted shut.

“Mind the signs, Myrna,” echoed in my skull and repeated over and over in millions of separate voices in unison. “Mind the signs…Mind the signs….”



. I shoved the covers off with my feet and stood, stretching. The house was unusually quiet. Must be the first up. After showering I listened while I dressed. Still no sounds. I went to the kitchen. No one. This was not like my parents to sleep in, especially later than me. I made my way toward their room.

“Mom.” Softly I pushed on the door which was slightly ajar. “Dad? Anyone up? Hey, sleepy heads….” The room was empty. The bed was made. My stomach flip-flopped. Marcy’s room was next. I padded down the hall then pushed on the half-opened door.

“You’ll be late….” I didn’t finish because no one was there to hear me. Her room was immaculate—which never happened—and empty. Panic pricked my brain like a nest of wasps. My mind was a jumble of anger and fear. People don’t just disappear. Where are they? What happened to them? I ran to Jarrod’s room and found the same thing. I was alone. Sliding down the wall I crumpled in a heap on the carpet.

“Where did you all go without me?” I shrieked at the ceiling, tears burning my eyes. “Where is everyone?”Running to the foyer, I slid on the white tiles in my socks. Swiping at my wet face with the back of my hand I gasped a shuddering breath.

And flung open the front door, daring to look outside.

The slam rattled the dishes in the kitchen cabinets like bones in a closet as I threw it shut. My heart pounded against my ribs. This isn’t possible. I’m still dreaming. The deadbolt lock thudded with a satisfying crunch as I twisted the key. My breath came in short gasps. My mind reeled with the impossible unreality of what I had seen. Who were these people? They were people, weren’t they? Then why had I seen horns and tails? I ran back to my room. Crouching, in the corner behind my bed my head ached from crying and fear. My room was still dark and shadows wavered and squirmed across the walls like living shades. I shut my eyes and slid my hands across my ears to shut out the world. I had to shut out this world that was not mine.

* * * *

I must have fallen asleep again because I woke to a dark room, and knew the sun had gone down. I searched each bedroom along the hallway—not surprised this time to find them empty, but still disappointed. I was alone. Even when alone at home before, I’d known I was not alone. This was different. This was scary.

My stomach audibly rumbled and I jumped at the sound. In the kitchen I luckily found peanut butter and bread, and made a sandwich. The peanut butter stuck to my dry mouth. I drank some milk, diluted with salty tears as I tried to swallow. My eyes wandered across the spotless, silent kitchen until landing on the phone. I picked up the receiver. No sound. Cords and plugs seemed fine. I clicked the receiver button up and down. I always wondered why people in movies did that, but still, I did it again. No sound. I couldn’t even call the cops. Tomorrow I would have to find help. Find out what happened to my family. An unnatural, sudden drowsiness overcame me and I stumbled sleepily back to bed. Why was I so tired? How could I sleep when my entire family was missing? And what about what I’d seen outside earlier? I slept nearly all day so there’s no way I could be sleepy. My eyes shut, almost on their own and I fell into a fitful sleep.

Tossing and turning like a storm-tossed ship at sea, my bed was soon sweat-damp and rumbled. Dreams which morphed into nightmares writhed through my confused brain. Blackness that felt alive as it wove around me like an anaconda, squeezing out my breath, was filled with screeches and banshee wails of pain and suffering. All around, shapes moved in the darkness. Amorphous, slithering, scales on dry stone, sometimes as high as my ceiling, others low on the ground—shapes without shape. Voices that growled like the notes of a tiger beside my ear, whispering words I couldn’t understand. Running. Running. Through trees stacked so closely together I had to inhale to squeeze through them. Water, slimy and brown with more amorphous shapes wriggling through it and around my thighs as I walked through it. Skies heavy and dark, oppressive in their grayness, sucking all joy, pleasure, even satisfaction from my soul.

My eyes flew open and I sat up. In my bed. In my room. In my house. Deep breaths of fresh air filled my lungs, restoring my brain’s oxygen. Then I heard movement in the shadows. Saw the shadows slide across my wall in the vague moonlight that managed to streak through the closed blind. I stared hard, trying to see for certain, unwilling to believe my senses anymore. The dry scraping sound echoed around the room followed by a hiss. More shadows, black as a moonless midnight wove across the floor and walls. My throat, already dry from screaming in my nightmares, constricted—useless. Who would hear me anyway?.

Then the atmosphere in my room changed. The hair on my neck and arms stood up. My skin prickled as though with a soft electric shock. My breathing became ragged and my heart thumped so loudly in my chest I could hear it in the silence of the room. I hadn’t prayed since I was a very little girl, but something in me told me to pray hard right now so I said the only bits I could remember from the days, as a toddler, when Mom insisted I go to Bible School.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want …” my brain screamed for the next words. I repeated the phrase over and over trying to recall them but they wouldn’t come. The shadows no longer clung to the edges of the room but slid across the floor, around the corners of the walls, directly toward me.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” I screamed as loudly as I could, emphasizing the word Lord. “He maketh me to lie down in still pastures, He restoreth my soul. Yay, though I walk through the valley of death I shall fear no evil for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff protect me. My cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all my life, and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever” I knew there were parts left out, but it was the best I could do. I repeated it over and over, getting louder and more confident each time.

The room filled with the brilliance of a noonday sun. I screamed, shading my burning eyes with a hand. Other screeching and scrambling sounds filled the room for several moments until there was compete silence. The brilliance faded and I dropped my hand to see what had happened. I expected to see a gaping hole in my wall or maybe half the house missing with starlight streaming in.

Nothing. There was nothing. My room was empty. I could feel its emptiness. Total and complete silence. But I also felt better. I wasn’t scared. I knew there would be no more nightmares for the rest of this night.

When I woke again, that same gray light as yesterday pushed past the edges of my window blinds spitting its dullness into the room.

After several hours of fruitlessly contemplating last night’s events and finding no food in the kitchen to sate my ever-grumbling stomach I managed to work up the courage to go for help. After dressing I took several deep breaths before opening the door again. I thought I was prepared.

The murky gray light that filled the sky seemed watery and weak. Although there was no cloud cover, there was no sunlight. Several brown dragons swooped through the grayness, casually flying above the buildings of this strange city. I stared wide-eyed, heart pounding. Dragons? On Earth? Had I been taken backward in time somehow? Was this the Middle Ages and I was in a Fairy Tale? I glanced up again as one swooped directly overhead, its beady red eyes watching me.

I have to leave the house. If I ignore them, perhaps they won’t notice me. Heart beating a mad tattoo, I stepped onto the stoop and jumped when my foot landed on something soft. It was a folded newspaper. I opened it and read Jacksonville Times Union. With it securely tucked under one arm I stepped down onto dirt. Dad’s pride and joy green grass was gone.

My heart pounded and lungs burned like I’d just finished a marathon. I twitched and jumped at every sound, spinning from side to side. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I inhaled deeply several times trying to calm down. The air stunk of sulphur and coal dust. I opened my eyes. Standing at the end of the yard, a loud chug and zip then a puff of steam enveloped me. I leapt backward, nearly falling into the dirt. A triangular car with a glass top sped down the road. Another headed my direction on the opposite side. The driver sat in the front of the triangle managing the car with a joystick while two passengers sat side-by-side on the rear seat. It maneuvered surprisingly well and was quite fast.

Leading east and west at the end of the walkway, a crushed stone path lined a packed dirt road that ran in front of the house. To the left and right of the house stood tall and short buildings of every description. Some seemed to be stores, others apartment buildings or individual homes like mine. Tall brass street lights stood sentinel on each intersection.

“Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore,” I murmured softly. I flipped a glance back at the house expecting ruby slippers.

A rumble overhead pulled my attention to the murky sky as a glass-enclosed egg with the silhouettes of seated people lining its interior floated by. At the rear spun a huge brass propeller. Occasional clouds of steam escaped into the atmosphere. I grabbed my chest and inhaled deeply several times, settling my nerves. I turned right and, with eyes lowered to avoid making eye contact, began walking down the path.

A layer of black soot coated the buildings and walkways reminding me of photos of Victorian London when chimneys belched black coal dust. Many of the grimy windows displayed new handbills showing a child with the question: “Have You Seen This Child?” underneath. It shocked me to realize each face was that of a different child. How many children had disappeared from this city and where did they go?

Glancing forward occasionally, I was surprised to see the odd assortment of costumes on the people who passed me. While some men wore bowler hats others had formal top hats and long-tailed coats. Women wore long dresses with pinafores and bloomers. Most wore wide-brimmed hats mounted with feathers and other doodads or jaunty small headdresses angled over impressive updoos. Many of these strange characters stared openly at me as they passed, causing goosebumps to roll up my arms and neck. I caught my reflection in a wavy window and realized why they were all staring. My jeans and Pink Floyd tee-shirt definitely stood out. I smoothed back my long black hair and wrapped the ponytail band around it, happy I’d thought to grab one on my way out the door and toss it onto my wrist. My younger sister Marcy showed me that trick. Thinking about her now made my eyes burn, blurring my surroundings. I swiped the back of a hand across them.

“Watch where you’re going, lunchmeat,” a low, menacing voice growled next to my ear. I turned my head to apologize. There was no one beside me. I fell against a building, scraping my arm on the rough siding. Someone had deliberately shoved me. But who?

“Imbecil,” the voice continued. I spun in search of the owner of the voice. I was alone on the walkpath. People across the street stared in passing. One last time, I looked back the way I’d come. I could still hear him like he was next to my ear.

“Mother’v pearl!” I muttered, eyes roving from feet to hat of a giant man who was walking away. He was easily over eight feet tall—not fat, just...big. A black top hat and full-length black cape added to the effect. I wondered for a split instant how he found clothes big enough. He spun a black cane with gold dragon-shaped handle and glittering diamond eyes. He must have realized I was staring because just his head spun backwards. He grinned maliciously at me with a flick of red eyes before his head swiveled back around.

ODESSA IS COMING SOON FROM MUSEITUPPUBLISHING.COM!

Rebecca Ryals Russell writes MG and YA Dark Fantasy and Horror while living with her family in a Victorian house on five acres of North Florida countryside. She also runs a Vacation Rental Log House on the property: Florida Black Bear Cabin. ( http://flablackbearcabin.com )

She is a fourth generation Floridian. She was born in Gainesville, grew up in Sunrise, lived in Orlando and Jacksonville before moving outside Lake City to care for ailing parents. The family now wishes to return to Jacksonville, which is why the house is for sale. (http://mcleranhouse.com )


The daughter of an Elementary-school principal and secretary, for fourteen years she taught Middle Grades, preferring English and Creative Writing. She had several students’ works published in anthologies as well as her own poetry, photography and stories. Her main interests are her four children ages 22, 19, 16, 11 and Irish hubby of 35 years. She enjoys spending her time writing, drawing, going to movies, reading, discussing philosophy with her 16-year-old son.


Over the course of the next few years she has several books being published.

Visit Rebecca online at http://rryalsrussell.com or the book's blog at http://seraphymwarsodessa.blogspot.com. Like the book's page on Facebook or follow Rebecca on Twitter. 

March Paranormal and Fantasy Event: Princess for Hire by Jamie Grey

After winning his kingdom in a legendary poker game twenty years ago, Princess Mina’s father loses the kingdom just as easily. Now alone and penniless, Mina must rely on her swords to support them both.


When the princess-turned-mercenary is offered a contract to save a prince that will pay enough to keep her father laid up in luxury for yet another year, she and her business partner snap up the deal. Dragons and all.

But when she’s faced with a seedy mage and a prince who doesn’t want any woman to rescue him, Mina quickly learns the so-far-unseen dragon is the least of her worries.

Read an excerpt!
 
We made our way down a long, empty hall. It was eerily quiet, dust motes circling in the air as we passed. Though I tried to be silent, my boots still rang loudly on the bare floor.


“What now, boss?” Galt asked, eyeing the set of stairs at the end of the hall.

“We keep looking. He’s got to be here somewhere.” I sounded braver than I felt. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to fighting a fire-breathing dragon; they were notoriously hard to kill. I forced myself upward, creeping around the corner of the staircase only to stop in astonishment. Instead of another long hallway, we stood at the edge of a great library. The roaring fire in the hearth cast a golden glow over the leather bound books lining the room.

At the far end sat a huge, soft chair with a young man lounging in it, a book propped open on his knee. He looked up as we moved out of the shadows and then jumped to his feet, dropping the book with a thud. “Dammit! Not another princess!” He shoved his hands into his pockets

and glared at me. “I told my father what it would take to get me home. So he sends another blasted beauty queen? I am sick and tired of this.”

Galt and I exchanged confused glances. I bit back a slightly hysterical giggle. I could hardly be called a beauty queen in my stained cloak and tattered tunic. “Are you King Randalf’s son? We were told you needed rescuing.”

The man sighed as he tugged a hand through his perfect blonde hair. Fine wrinkles webbed his eyes as he frowned. “Why do women always think men need rescuing?”

“Because they haven’t the sense the Maker granted a horse’s ass?” Galt flashed me a warning look as my temper began to rise. If this was the prince, then he obviously wasn’t in any danger. So why was King Randalf paying me to bring him home? And where was the dragon that guarded him?

PURCHASE PRINCESS FOR HIRE AT MUSEITUPPUBLISHING.COM! ALSO AVAILABLE IN A KINDLE EDITION!

Writer. Geek. Tech enthusiast. Tea diva. Jamie Grey is either a multi-faceted young-adult author or a commitment-phobic escapist. Probably a little of both.


Residing near Ann Arbor, Michigan, Jamie spends her days writing as an instructional designer. At night, she tries to create fantastic worlds populated with remarkable characters. Some days are better than others.


You can reach Jamie via email at greyjamie1 (at) gmail (dot) com


Her website is: http://www.jamiegreybooks.com/
Her blog is: www.jamiegreybooks.com/blog
Follow her on Twitter: www.twitter.com/jamie_grey

March Paranormal and Fantasy Event: Crimson Dream by David J. Normoyle

Centuries ago, Deren's people fled to a hidden valley deep in the mountains chased by the Domain, whose powerful Seers could not find them.

Deren’s safe world disintegrates when his vision foretells his sister’s death by a Domain soldier. Deren can't defend Bennie because of his asthmatic attacks, so he trains her in archery and prepares his people for war against their ancient foe.

As the invasion advances, Bennie's mastery of the bow leads her along unexpected paths. Although she hates killing, she must make hard choices. Her loved ones will die if she doesn't help them.

Will Bennie’s encounter with an enemy prince prove the key to survival? Can Deren overcome his physical weaknesses and the doubts of his own father to lead his people?

With fate and overwhelming force stacked against them, it seems their best efforts will be in vain.
 
Read an excerpt!
 
Deren tried to get up to help Oso and Bennie and fell onto his back. He began to gasp, his breath labouring through his lungs, fighting for every mouthful. He took deep sucking drags of air, clutching his neck with his hands. His own lungs were drowning him, refusing to breathe. He looked into the sky, thinking he would die. Although it was only twilight, a ghostly moon peeked over the trees.

Whistling noises crept up and down his throat. He prayed to the Goddess of the Moon. Yenara, help me. Please, don't let me die. Bennie needs me. Please.
A face swam across his vision. "Deren, are you okay?" the face asked. "Deren, try to calm yourself."

The voice was laden with worry. A hand touched the side of his face. Warm drops landed on his forehead. "Don't give up on me," the voice said in a fierce whisper.

PURCHASE CRIMSON DREAM AT MUSEITUPPUBLISHING.COM! ALSO AVAILABLE IN A KINDLE EDITION!

David was born in Australia, but moved to Ireland at an early age. The early globe crossing must have gone to his head, as he has since backpacked through and lived in numerous countries. He grew up on a farm as the eldest of nine unruly siblings, but since his escape, he prefers city living. His electronic engineering degree is currently gathering dust while he tries new and strange pursuits such as novel writing.


Visit David online at:

Website: http://www.davidjnormoyle.com/

Facebook: facebook.com/pages/David-J-Normoyle/157832707561908

Twitter: http://twitter.com/davidjnormoyle

March Paranormal and Fantasy Event: Ashes by Arlene Webb

Not happening. Four hours pass while Lyle Logan holds his brother's corpse and pretends he’s the one not breathing.


Those responsible are dead. Only one reason to live now—vengeance.

Please. Lyle will do anything to alter reality. But he can’t. Instead he fills his stomach with ashes and unwittingly devours a myth.

I want to die. Guilt holds hands with grief. Lyle doesn’t care when authorities conclude that he committed the crime of Cain.

Acceptance. Lyle has no choice but to acknowledge the entity burning within.

When five stages lead to a precipice, Lyle takes the next step. So what he’ll lose his humanity and hold a miraculous creature hostage.

Resolution. Ashes to life, he will find a way to his brother.

Warning: Graphic violence and/or sexual content-18 and over


Read an excerpt!

Raw thirst dominated Lyle’s fantasy. Cracked ribs, battered leg, ankle bruised by the shackle, three broken fingers, deep slashes along inner thighs and bone jutting through muscle in the left arm—it all lay crushed under the need for water. Images of shimmering droplets danced behind his crusted eyelids.

How long did it take for a male in his prime to die? The metal rod had been staked deep into the desert soil of Las Vegas. Lyle no longer struggled against the chain, tried to shelter his skin from the searing heat, or screamed for a soul with a shred of human compassion to help him.

Surrounded by low shrubs with a pungent crisp scent, there had to be reason he continued to draw in their aroma. His daydream with denial began to weaken as his thoughts hardened from despair into anger. Lyle pressed against his brother’s stiffening body, but no amount of friction created a response. Reality intruded with more stomach spasms and he grunted, shifting aside.

He willed himself calm and focused on the message traced in the sand. He trailed his finger to edge the outline of the heart beside his name into a stronger, thicker image. The L blurred into an M, nausea clogged his throat, and the moisture in his mouth jarred him toward clarity.

The truth? Lyle was no longer part of a binary system. He wasn’t the half that needed water and medical attention hours ago. He was the worthless bastard who had to dig six inches further down, pull up a steel bar and carry Myles home.

An imaginary hand stroked his head, the firm touch of male flesh soothed the tears on his cheek and his dead brother’s voice whispered in his ear, ‘Sorry, Lyle. Permanently separated—how weird is that? You mustn’t follow me. Move your butt. Find them instead. Avenge me.’

“Sure.” Lyle spat blood through his cracked lips. “I’ll get right on it.” Impetuous and irrational, Myles had always been the weaker. But Lyle, older by three minutes, managed to rescue his younger bro from every sociopath that befell him.
Not this time. Myles headed for a pine box.

Lyle headed toward damnation as soon as he stopped pretending he was Myles. The chain didn’t hold his leg tight, no sharp object had opened his veins, and not a bone in his body had been smashed. Lyle lay facedown in the dirt, alongside his twin, imagining over and over what it must have felt like to die like this.

How much guilt can a heart take before it goes quiet? And who dared to approach, interrupting his snuggle with the dead? A ripple of dust and a fluttering irritated Lyle. Hot air and cinnamon hit his face. He snapped open his eyes and jerked to his feet.

A dying buzzard? More like a deathly ill, midget flamingo. The creature that landed in front of Lyle appeared deader than Myles.




COMING IN MAY 2011 FROM MUSEITHOT PUBLISHING!

Sci-fi, paranormal, thriller-mystery, indefinable, Arlene Webb is an author who adds sweet and spicy layers of romance to any genre.

She was born in upstate New York, USA, land of cows, snow, drizzle and sometimes a ray of sun. Second oldest with four siblings, she spent her childhood reading everything she could get her hands on.

In her early twenties, she headed for the Pacific. A stop off to visit a friend turned into years in Tucson, Arizona. She worked as a waitress, bartender, greenhouse worker, greyhound trainer, while swapping a pysch major for one in plant sciences at the University of Arizona. Fired for skipping employee meetings at restaurants, employee gambling at the dogtrack, refusing to use live rabbits as bait, it fell to planting cacti and bartending to pay her way through college.

In her late twenties she ran family owned greenhouses and florist shops in New York. When the reality of retail life became too mundane to handle, she began an obsessive love of creating more interesting worlds.

Visit Arlene online at http://www.arlenewebb.blogspot.com/. You can also find her on Facebook and Twitter.

March Paranormal and Fantasy Event: A Past and a Future by Penny Lockwood Ehrenkranz

A broad swatch of fiction falls under the heading of fantasy, and Penny Ehrenkranz touches on all aspects of it in A Past and A Future. From princesses in distress and airborne dragons to magic and misdirection, the characters of her stories are at once heroic, unforgettable, and sympathetic. Ehrenkranz deftly weaves plotlines and subplots that touch the lives and hopes and fears of all of us.

Stories included in A Past and a Future are:

1. Flight of the Roc

What would you do if your master told you to collect a roc's egg? Would you be willing to climb a mountain and climb into the nest? And, what would happen if the egg you collected hatched?

2. Blurred Vengeance

Temur's father is murdered, and he must have revenge. Will his journey to honor his father's death bring him what he wants, or will it destroy him and his village?

3. Who Will Heal the Healer

Marzan teaches Niane to control the winds, but what about the winds of fate? Will Niane be able to save her mentor when the underworld comes to claim him?

4. Ashley of Ashland

Ashley, a young magician covets his brother's fiance, but what are her feelings? Is his brother fit to rule the kingdom or is he a brutal womanizer? Can Ashley's magic be enough to save him and his true love?

5. The Watcher

Zerelda lives in a world of women. Her function is to obey and not have feelings. She watches for the one who comes from afar. When he comes to impregnate her ruler, will they find a forbidden love instead?

6. Enchantress

Merlin knows his fate, but he is unable to stand against it when Viviane enchants him. Will his powers be stronger than hers, or will he find himself a victim of love?

7.Drakoni

She is from this world. He is from another. A dragon draws them together. Will she look beyond his pointed ears and see the man of her dreams? Will she fear the dragon or embrace him?

8. Heshe

Lyda runs from her abusive stepfather, hiding her sex from the world. Her rescuer has a secret of his own. Will they both find happiness or will their pursuers stop them before they find their paradise?

9. The Baby Makers

How far would you go to get a baby if you can't conceive on your own? Would you accept a clone? Would you fight for that's child's rights in a world unprepared for it?

10. 3-D Pictures

Avery's boss thought he was crazy, but was he? When he stared into the 3-D picture, he saw a land others couldn't see. When Elvina emerges from the picture to tell him of his true heritage, will he join her in the picture or accept the doctor's diagnosis?

11. Screen Saver

Clancy is used to strange people. His boss represents them. But when the bullets start flying, will the screen saver really save him?

12. Isolation

The world has died, except for small pockets of isolated communities. The rich can afford to live isolated from the poor who die daily from bad air, poisoned water, and uncontrolled diseases. But what if you are tired of the isolation? What if you wanted to find somewhere to be free? Would you take the chance?

13. Love in a Different Hue

Chiri's father is a scientist. He invents artificial life. Her husband married her for her money and access to her father. What should she do when the artificial life her father has created looks better to her than her husband?

14. Down So Low The Ground Looks Like Up

Sylvan is sensitive to others feelings. It drives her crazy, so she drinks to dull the pain. But does she also drink because she harbors a secret? Will Dev, the police officer who finds her, rescue her from her demons?

15. Rebels With a Cause

Kids will be kids even in the future where people wear a uniform colored to their profession. Juvenile offenders receive an implant so they can be tracked without being housed in a facility. Shahleena is bored with her existence. Will volunteering to help these juvenile offenders help her or help them?

16. Clockworks

John lives in Structured. His ancestors came from Upheaval. On a whim, he decides to visit, only to find the chaos of Upheaval is more than he can handle. Unfortunately, he cannot leave fast enough. What will happen to him when he finds the clocks are all set to different times?

Read an excerpt from "Ashley of Ashland"


Ashley, younger son of Brandon, Duke of Ashland, sat brooding in front of the fire. Although it was late spring, the stone castle was drafty and always cold. Deep in thought, he tried to ignore the gaiety around him, as party guests frolicked and made merry. A spark from the fire fell on his blue silk hose, and he flicked it away angrily. He sat up straighter on his chair and adjusted his dark blue brocade jacket. He noticed a small smudge spot on one of the white lace cuffs protruding from the right sleeve. He rubbed at it absently, but that only pushed the soot deeper into the fabric.

Ashley glanced back over his shoulder. A small group of musicians, gaily dressed in green and gold brocade, played a rollicking dance tune. Dancers of all ages bobbed, swayed, curtseyed and bowed to each other as their feet flashed through the intricate dance steps. Serving girls wove among the dancers, tankards of
ale and goblets of wine balanced on their huge trays. Ashley sighed and turned back to his fire; he had never managed to conquer those dance steps.

Ashley picked up a poker leaning against the stonework and shoved it into the pile of burning logs. The flames danced higher, the sparks flying like tiny fairy lights. Ashley sighed and looked back over his shoulder again. Princess Thalia danced with his brother, Gerand. Her small blond head was thrown back in laughter, her cheeks lit with a rosy glow. She was dressed in a low-cut, lime-green brocade dress, the full skirt trimmed in the finest ermine. Around her neck flashed a choker of emeralds and diamonds. Woven into her hair were strings of pearls. Gerand’s tall muscular frame, topped by his head of thick, black hair, created a stark contrast to the small plump princess as he propelled her around the dance floor in an intricate maneuver. Ashley sighed again. Thalia was so lovely, if only he had been born first, she’d be pledged to him, not his older brother.

Ashley stirred the logs while muttering under his breath. A rainbow of colors flickered, and suddenly an image of Princess Thalia appeared, hovering in the huge fireplace. Several more words created Ashley’s image standing alongside Thalia’s. When a hand touched Ashley’s shoulder lightly, it startled him. The images
flickered and disappeared.

“Impressive, Ashley of Ashland,” Thalia’s soft voice murmured.

Ashley spun around quickly, a blush coloring his pudgy cheeks. “Good evening, Princess. I thought I was alone.” Ashley stood and bowed, his eyes never leaving Thalia’s face.

“You were. I just came to see if my future brother-in-law would like to dance with me?” Thalia’s cheeks dimpled slightly as she smiled, extending her hand.

Read the reviews!

"Ms. Ehrenkranz makes every word count. Dialogue comes across with an authentic voice of the times; no matter whose voice or what era of time. She portrays her scenes using colorful sensory scales, pulling me along for an entertaining and extraordinary adventurous ride.


Ms. Ehrenkranz’s characters reveal unique personalities, each set apart from another, each strong in their own right.


I find a delightful story in every one I read, and highly recommend this book to anyone who loves short, thoughtful stories, ending in a way that leaves a smile on your face. The kind of smile saying, 'Yea, that was a great story.'"

--Kay Dee

For reviews of specific stories, visit Penny's website.

Penny Lockwood Ehrenkranz has published more than 100 articles, 75 stories, two e books, a chapbook, and her stories have been included in two anthologies. She writes for both adults and children. Her fiction has appeared in numerous genre and children’s publications and non fiction work has appeared in a variety of writing, parenting, and young adult print magazines and on line publications. She edits for three small independent publishers. Visit her web site at http://pennylockwoodehrenkranz.yolasite.com.  Her writing blog is located at http://pennylockwoodehrenkranz.blogspot.com/


Her anthology A Past and A Future, and her YA chapbook, Dragon Sight are available at GenreMall. Love Delivery and Lady-in-Waiting are coming in 2011 from MuseItUp Publishing. Her MG novel, Ghost for Rent, published by Hardshell Word Factory, is available on Amazon and Fictionwise. Funny Dog, Boo’s Bad Day, and Many Colored Coats, all picture books, and Ghost for Lunch, a sequel, are schedule for publication with 4RV.


A Past and A Future
http://www.genremall.com/anthologiesr.htm#pastfuture


Ghost for Rent
http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/b8656/?si=0
http://tinyurl.com/27puzze 


Dragon Sight
http://www.genremall.com/fictionr.htm#dragonsight


Love Delivery, coming August, 2011
Lady-in-Waiting, coming November, 2011
https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2


Funny Dog, coming May, 2012
Ghost for Lunch, coming September, 2013
Many Colored Coats, coming October, 2014
Boo's Bad Day, coming June, 2015
http://4RVpublishingllc.com/Childrens_Books.html

You can also visit Penny online at:

http://www.facebook.com/penny.ehrenkranz?ref=profile
http://twitter.com/#!/pennyehrenkranz
http://www.linkedin.com/in/pennyehrenkranz