Author Spotlight: Mike Manos and God's Poor

The sudden deaths of pregnant women rock the world. A deadly virus causes world panic. A dangerous heresy reemerges from the misty past. The Catholic and Orthodox Christian Churches face an unknown enemy. Mossant reveals dangerous secrets that threaten religious foundations. The quest for immortality leads to the first Jerusalem and incredible revelations. Finally an earthquake produced by HAARP gives a temporary solution.

Read the excerpt!
MADRID

Jesus said,” Know what is in front of your face and what is hidden from you will be disclosed to you. For there is nothing hidden that will not be revealed.”
Gospel of Thomas, 5

Jorje Matanas woke up abruptly. His silky purple pajamas were soaked in sweat even though the climate control of his mansion kept the temperature steady at 21 Celsius all year round.

The dream seemed to him alive. He was inside a low stone cottage. In front of him stood an ascetic elongated monk of undeterminable age, dressed with a dark blue hooded cassock fastened around his waist with a rope. On the center of his cassock there was a white symbol, like a cross but with the upper line replaced by a circle. The monk had a light white beard, black charcoal eyes and hollow cheeks, like a figure painted by El Greco. A milky white light filled the cottage. A force pushed Matanas on his knees and he kissed the monk’s bare toes. The monk put his right hand on Matanas’ head and his caved voice echoed inside his mind.

“Welcome, my brother. I was waiting for you.”

The soft ring of the phone found Matanas sitting in the middle of the bed trying to get over the dream. He picked up the phone.

“Senor?” the old butler’s voice was heard on the other end of the line.
“What is it, Juan?”

“Senior, it is 6 in the morning and I ask you to forgive me. A monk is here and he insists that he has an appointment with you now. What should I do?”

Matanas was shaken and nearly dropped the phone. “Take him to the living room. I will be there in a minute.” Still soaked in sweat, he went to the bath off his bedroom, washed his face and neck, and wiped himself with a white towel monogrammed in dark blue thread with his initials. He took a silk burgundy robe from his closet, slid his feet into the matching slippers to the side of the door, and made his way down the marble staircase .On the ground floor he went to the open, hand-carved wooden door with its four impressive gold emblems and entered the huge royal living room, sumptuously decorated with thick blue-white rugs, red velvet sofas and heavy chandeliers.

A short, skinny monk with a long white beard stood next to the low marble table close to the door. He wore a plain grey hooded cassock fastened at the waist with a rope. Matanas was shocked when he saw on the left side of the cassock the white symbol of his dream.

He approached the monk and gave him a handshake, trying to hide his impatience. He was surprised that although the monk looked very old, his grip was quite strong. The monk smiled at Matanas.

“God is merciful. I am Friar Jose from the order of the Pure. Theophilus, our guide, sends me. You have already met him,” he said in a way that made Matanas shiver.

“But how?” Matanas whispered. “What’s happening?”

“Don’t ask. He is waiting for you. The flight for Salonica is scheduled for 10 a.m. You must not say a word to anyone about where you are going. There you will visit the Ministry of Northern Greece, where you will get a permit to visit Mount Athos, the Holy Mountain. You will arrive there by boat from Ouranoupolis. They will wait for you. Don’t bring anything with you, just some money for the trip and your passport.”

The monk paused and handed Matanas a small open grey envelope with the same white symbol on its left side. “All the instructions are written inside the envelope,” he continued. “God have mercy, my brother.”

The monk turned and walked towards the door. Matanas followed him, looking puzzled.

“But I don’t understand,” he stuttered. “I have to leave today at 10 a.m. for Salonica?”

The monk stood at the entrance to the living room. The old butler appeared to be trying to button his jacket. Without turning his head, the monk spoke again. “He is waiting for you tomorrow, you know that. Don’t delay.” He walked to the door without saying anything else.

Read more here: http://www.buybooksontheweb.com/peek.aspx?id=5140

PURCHASE YOUR COPY OF GOD'S POOR HERE!

Mike Manos is professor of Economics and a scholar of History and archaeology. He is also a poet and a freelance writer.

God’s Poor is his first novel.

Author Interview: Hazel Statham, Author of The Portrait

Hazel Statham lives in England and has been writing on and off since she was fifteen. Initially she was influenced by Austen, the Brontës, and Sabatini but when she turned seventeen, Georgette Heyer opened up the romance and elegance of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. She immediately knew she had found her eras and wanted nothing more than to re-create them in her work.

Hazel lives with her husband, Terry, and a beautiful Labrador named Mollie. Apart from writing, her other ruling passion is animals, and until recently she acted as treasurer for an organization that raised money for animal charities.
To learn more about Hazel and her books visit her website: www.hazel-statham.co.uk

Today we sit down with Hazel to talk about her new release.

Welcome Hazel. It's wonderful to have you here.

Where did you grow up?

I have lived in Staffordshire all my life and most of my early years were spent in a town called Hanley.

What is your fondest childhood memory?

It has to be the days I spent at the stables, when summers were hot with few days of rain. I learned to ride at the age of eleven and so began a life-long love of horses.

When did you begin writing?

I wrote my first book, purely for my own amusement, in 1961, at the age of fifteen and have continued writing on an off ever since.

What is The Portrait about?

England 1812

Severely injured at the battle of Salamanca, Edward Thurston, the new Earl of Sinclair, returns home to his beloved Fly Hall. Determined not to present his prospective bride with the wreck he believes himself to have become, he decides to end his betrothal, unaware that Lady Jennifer, for vastly differing reasons, has reached the selfsame decision.

Throughout the campaigns, Edward was often seen relying greatly on a miniature he carried, and it is to this token he clings upon his return. Will he eventually find happiness with the girl in the portrait, or will he remain firm in his resolve not to wed? Reason dictates one course, his heart another.

What inspired you to write it?

The Portrait was inspired by a line from a song from the film Hawks. The singer says he wanted to be the man she thought he was and this brought about the theme of my book – a wounded hero returning from war, ending his betrothal because of his wounds.

Are you a member of a critique group? If no, who provides feedback on your work?

I occasionally ask on-line writing friends to read over my work but, for me, writing is a solitary task as I work entirely alone.

Who is your favorite author?

Can I cheat and have more than one? Charlotte Bronte and Georgette Heyer are the authors that have influenced my writing the most but I have also enjoyed work by numerous others, far too many to commit to a list.

Where can readers purchase a copy of your book?

Barnes & Noble
http://search.barnesandnoble.com/books/product.aspx?r=1&afsrc=1&EAN=9780803477872

Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/Portrait-Hazel-Statham/dp/0803477872/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1284298668&sr=1-1

Do you have a website and/or blog where readers can find out more?

www.hazel-statham.co.uk

What is the best investment you have made in promoting your book?
Promoting isn’t my forte therefore, taking an on-line virtual book tour has to be my best investment.
What is up next for you?

I have another Regency romance, Consequence, due to be released with Avalon Books sometime next year. In the meantime, I continue with my current work in progress, which has the temporary title of The Honorable Heart.

Is there anything you would like to add?

I hope my readers enjoy reading my work as much as I enjoy writing it.

Thanks for spending time with us today. We wish you much success.

Author Spotlight: DCS and Synarchy Book 2: The Ascension

A lifetime ago, Stefano Vasco Terenzio saw one way to maneuver his family into a game of betrayal against an unbeatable enemy; walking into a bullet.

A generation later, what started with one man’s ego will determine the fate of the whole word.

For centuries The Brotherhood and their Gods, the Anunnaki have hidden in plain sight among us. For centuries they have lied, sacrificed man by the thousands, and manipulated humanity into their service.

As the clock ticks closer to December 21st, 2012, they will stop at nothing to keep their control of planet Earth.
In the thrilling sequel to Synarchy Book 1: The Awakening, the end is only the beginning. Secrets emerge that will challenge the core of everything you think you believe.

All the while a team of scientists must make sense out of the fantastical, and the tenuous link holding together the one family that can save humankind, shatters.

Read an Excerpt from Synarchy Book 2: The Ascension!


“We’re villains, as much as we are capable of being heroes. When the moments come that we can we soften the blow of our sins, we’ve got to take them.”
-Stefano Vasco Terenzio

Prologue

December 20, 2012- 11:44 PM
Vacherie, Louisiana
Oak Alley Plantation

It came down in thick heavy sheets, bulleting from the sky, drenching the ground that could only absorb so much before it leaked up from the grass, and quickly became the swamp that was so common in the area. The glare of headlights cut through the rain, illuminating the porch of the antebellum mansion that was now empty.

Caesar climbed out of the car, whistling. He snapped open the trunk and stared with vicious glee down at Vasco, whose hands Caesar had taped behind his back. Caesar reached inside and hauled the other man out, half dragging him through the puddles of water, and shoved him in front of the stairs, facing the house. “I thought you‘d want to see it one more time before you died.”

Vasco’s eyes traveled slowly over the elegant, old fashioned structure. It had once been her home, before she—

His jaw hardened. A lifetime ago, he had made love to her against those columns, often after he’d shot a few people out among the centuries-old oaks. For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened at the phantom images.

“You know, she and I had some good times here after you got popped.” Caesar grinned at his own memories.

Vasco’s eyes narrowed, jealousy and fury coiling hotly in his gut. His fingers fisted around the piece of glass hidden in his palm, and sharp edges cut into the tape and his skin, the blood washing away with the force of the rain.

Caesar turned him around so they were facing each other. “I don’t get you, Vasco.” He took a step back, pulling the gun out from the waistband of his pants. “Why? Out of all of them, I never thought you would choose this.”

The hatred in the depths of Vasco’s eyes was unhidden as he regarded Caesar. It was their destiny to be enemies, their agreement for this lifetime. He was fully committed to honoring that agreement. “Choice, Caesar,” Vasco said over the noise of the storm. “I never made anyone do anything. They always had a choice. You—Them—you take the fun out of the game when you take that choice away. But the better, less noble reason is I just don’t like you. Or your masters. I never have.”

Caesar shook his head. “I’ll never understand you Terenzios. I won’t miss you, either.” The thunder growled, a flash of lighting exposing the malevolent gleam in Caesar‘s eyes as he pressed the muzzle of the gun against Vasco’s temple.

Read the Reviews!

"...absolutely wonderful character development with solid movement through the plot."
--A Moment with Mystee

"...I could not put it down."
--Poncho, guest reviewer at Reading, Reading & Life

DCS was born in Alexandria, Virginia. She graduated high school in Huntersville, NC and attended the University of North Carolina at Charlotte intent on earning a degree in Political Science and becoming a lawyer.


She instead eventually turned to writing. DCS is currently attending the American Institute of Holistic Theology to earn her PhD in Metaphysical Spirituality.


You can also hear her live every Saturday evening on BlogTalkRadio’s In the Mind of DCS. Show starts at 7pm Central Standard Time.


Synarchy Book 2: The Ascension is her second novel, and four more are scheduled for release.


Synarchy Book 3: SVT and Synarchy Book 4: The Black Widow are the next in the series due out in 2011.

Author Spotlight: Marilyn Meredith and Invisible Path

While Tempe’s son, Blair is home from Christmas break, he and his roommate from college do a bit of snooping to find out about the para-military group who’ve been seen driving through town. When a young popular Indian is found dead near the recovery center on the reservation, Tempe is called in to help with the investigation. Another Native American but a newcomer to the rez, Jesus Running Bear, is the only suspect. A hidden pregnancy, a quest to find the Hairy Man, and a visit to the pseudo soldiers’ compound put Jesus and Tempe in jeopardy.

Read an Excerpt!


“Jesus, I need to talk to you.”

My grandma was the only one who could get away with pronouncing my name like Jesus in the Bible. My friends say it like “Hay-soos.” Grandma didn’t like it when she heard someone say my name like that. She usually corrected whoever it was by saying, “My grandson is not Mexican, he is Indian. His name is Jesus Running Bear.”

I don’t know what inspired my mother to give me such a name, and she wasn’t around to ask.

Grandma fixed her small dark eyes on me. When she smiled her eyes became crescent moons. She wasn’t smiling now. Whatever it was she wanted to say, it had to be important.

I put down the bowl I’d gotten out of the cupboard. Breakfast would have to wait.

“You’ve been thinking about something a lot. Something that’s going to give you problems.” Grandmother’s face was round, weathered, and brown as a nut. Her gray hair was pulled straight back and arranged in a bun. Wiry strands escaped and poked out around her ears and the nape of her neck. She wore a man’s red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, over a pair of faded blue jeans. Beneath the baggy clothes, she was slim and muscled. Her toes peeked out from a pair of worn leather sandals.

I loved my grandma; after all she was the one who raised me after my mother left me alone while she went on a three day drunk. My uncle found me and brought me to grandmother’s house where I’ve been ever since. No, I don’t miss my mother because I don’t even remember her. I only know what I’ve been told about her—not much of it good.

I wasn’t sure what kind of problem Grandma meant. Sure, I’d been going down to the beer joints with my cousin and friends even though I knew she didn’t want me drinking. Maybe that’s what this was about. I respected my grandmother, but I hadn’t obeyed her warning about never touching alcohol. She hated alcohol. Grandfather had died from drinking too much. Maybe my mother was dead too. No one had heard from her in years.

“Come. Sit down.” She motioned to the chair where I usually sat. In front of her was a cup of tea. “We’re going to find out exactly what is going on with you.”

I sat on the edge of the seat. She was going to do some weird Indian stuff. We were Miwok—though we didn’t live on or near a reservation. We lived in a small town in the foothills above Modesto which is in the Central Valley of California. Frankly, I didn’t know much about my heritage except what my grandma told me.

She was an amazing woman, and could do so many things. I was proud of most of what she did. She knew how to gather herbs that could cure most sicknesses. She wove beautiful baskets that she sold at Pow Wows and to tourists in gift shops in Yosemite and other places.

When I was a kid, she took me on camping trips into the back country. She could out hike me even today. But I wasn’t crazy about all the Indian stuff she did that I didn’t understand.

Grandma stared into the cup and began speaking in her native language. That’s what she always did when she was concentrating on something.

She lifted her head and fixed her eyes on me again. “You’re looking for a girlfriend. That’s it, isn’t it?”
Well, sure. What young guy isn’t trying to find a girl? But for once I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut.

Again, she peered into the cup. “I see all kinds of women. Be careful not to choose the wrong one. If you do, you’ll be miserable.”

She stared and her eyes looked funny, like she was seeing something far, far away.

I squirmed, wondering where this was leading. Maybe she already had someone picked out for me.

“I see a pretty girl with a nice figure. She has long straight hair, clear down to her waist. She’ll wiggle her plump bottom and you won’t be able to think. Women have power–especially young pretty ones. Don’t you so much as give her more than a passing glance. If you do, you’ll be miserable your whole life.” Grandma didn’t look up.

In my mind I could see the pretty girl walking down the street, her shiny black hair swinging back and forth like her hips.

After a few minutes my day dream ended when Grandma said, “There’s another one. Short and skinny like I was when I was young. But beware, she’s nothing like me. This one is sneaky. She’ll act like she cares for you when she has lots of other men.”

Interesting. This was more fun than I’d expected.

“I see another one, curly headed and laughing. She’ll welcome you to her bed.”

This was sounding better and better, and I risked a smile.

“Take my warning, grandson. Don’t marry her. She knows nothing about being a wife or taking care of children. She only knows how to have fun. She only wants to party, party, party. She’s not for you.”

I was beginning to wonder if there was anyone Grandma would see in that teacup who was good enough for me.

“Ah, there’s the one you must look for. She’s a sweet girl, with dark brown wavy hair and a dimple in one cheek. She knows and respects the old ways.”

“Where is she? Does she live around here?” I was ready to introduce myself to this wonderful woman.

“No, she lives far away. It may take a long, long while before you meet her.”

That wasn’t such good news. “How will I find her?”

“The path lies straight ahead. Sometimes it will be invisible, but it’s always there.”

Grandma’s discussion about my future seemed to be over.

She picked up the cup and dumped the dregs in the sink. Wiping her hands on a tea towel that had been draped through the handle of the old refrigerator, she asked, “Are you ready to eat?”
* * *

I almost forgot about Grandma’s predictions, because I started drinking more and more with my buddies. I became an embarrassment to her and my other relatives, and I didn’t care.


INVISIBLE PATH TOUR SCHEDULE
 
Monday, November 1


Guest blogging at Lori’s Reading Corner

Tuesday, November 2

Book spotlighted at Book Tours and More

Wednesday, November 3

Guest blogging at Kurt Kamm’s blog

Thursday, November 4

Guest blogging at Mystery World of Pat Brown

Friday, November 5

Guest blogging at Mysteryrat’s Closet

Tuesday, November 9

Book spotlighted at Noir World of GK Parker

Wednesday, November 10

Guest blogging at Authors & Appetizers

Thursday, November 11

Guest blogging at A Writer’s Jumble

Friday, November 12

Book reviewed at The Book Connection

Monday, November 15

Book Club Discussion at Literarily Speaking

Tuesday, November 16

Book Club Discussion at Literarily Speaking

Book reviewed at Musings of an All Purpose Monkey

Wednesday, November 17

Book Club Discussion at Literarily Speaking

Thursday, November 18

Video Trailer featured at Down Under Views

Friday, November 19

Guest blogging at Thoughts in Progress

Monday, November 22

Book reviewed at Nevets.QST

Tuesday, November 23

Book reviewed at Thoughts in Progress

Guest blogging at Writing Daze

Wednesday, November 24

Guest blogging at Review from Here

Book reviewed at Ohio Girl Talks

Friday, November 26

Book reviewed at My Favorite Things

Invisible Path VBT Contest: Leave a comment at Marilyn's blog stops. The person who comments at the most stops during her virtual book tour will have a character named after him or her in the next Deputy Tempe Crabtree book.

Marilyn Meredith is the author of nearly thirty published novels, including the award winning Deputy Tempe Crabtree mystery series, the latest Invisible Path from Mundania Press. Under the name of F. M. Meredith she writes the Rocky Bluff P.D. crime series, An Axe to Grind is the latest from Oak Tree Press.


She is a member of EPIC, Four chapters of Sisters in Crime, including the Internet chapter, Mystery Writers of America, and on the board of the Public Safety Writers of America. Visit her at http://fictionforyou.com and her blog at http://marilymeredith.blogspot.com .

Pump Up Your Book Announces Novermber '10 Authors on Tour

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Join a talented and diverse group of 41 authors who are touring with Pump Up Your Book during November 2010. This is the largest group of authors Pump Up Your Book has ever put on tour in a given month!

Follow these authors as they travel the blogosphere from November 1st through November 26th to discuss their books. You’ll find everything from horror to mystery novels, from children’s books to culinary books, from romance to self-help, and more!

Vincent Zandri returns to Pump Up Your Book in November to begin his two-month tour to promote the paperback version of his bestselling horror novel, The Remains. Pamela Samuels Young is also back with her legal thriller, Buying Time, and Marilyn Meredith returns to discuss the latest book in her Deputy Tempe Crabtree series, Invisible Path.

Maybe you’re starting to think about the holidays and winter. NY Times bestselling author Jon Katz is on tour with, Rose in a Storm, his first novel in a decade. Also on tour with books set around this time of year are Kristy Haile, Sheila Roberts, and Tim Slover.
Thrillers come to you from John L. Betcher and Mary Maddox, while Kathy Bell, Valmore Daniels, DCS, Rolf Hitzer, and Mark Oetjens talk about their science-fiction books. Historical novels are being promoted by M.M. Bennetts, Kieran Kramer, and Hana Samek Norton. Children’s books come to you from Cheryl Malandrinos, K.D. Hays and Meg Weidman, and W.S. Martin.

Two series of books will be on tour in November: The Truth series for girls by Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein and the Tinfish series by Chris Wardle.

For non-fiction lovers we have memoirs from Shari Bookstaff and Dina Kucera, a true crime book from James D. Livingston, a culinary book from Denise Burroughs, a self-help anthology on tour with Judi Moreo, a book on spirituality by Nick Oliva, and a women’s issues book from Kandy Siahaya.

Also on tour with Pump Up Your Book in November are Joel M. Andre, Monica Brinkman, Lian Dolan, Shelly Frome, Mike Manos, Sam Moffie, LeAnn Neil Reilly, Robert Seymour, Vila Spiderhawk, Hazel Statham, Bronwyn Storm, and Amanda Wolfe.

Visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3wuu3mdIbEg to view a video trailer introducing our authors on tour in November.

Pump Up Your Book is a virtual book tour agency for authors who want quality service at an affordable price. More information can be found on their website at http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/.

Contact Information:

Dorothy Thompson
Founder of Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tours
P.O. Box 643
Chincoteague, Virginia 23336
Email: thewriterslife@yahoo.com