Linda Weaver Clarke: Interview and Giveaway with Fantasy Author Laura Sepesi

Linda Weaver Clarke: Interview with Fantasy Author Laura Sepesi: "Book Give-Away March 7 - 14: To win The Guardian of Kelmar, leave a comment about this interview with your e-mail. U.S. and Canada.

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

Book Spotlight: The Paris Wife by Paula McLain

A deeply evocative story of ambition and betrayal, The Paris Wife captures a remarkable period of time—Paris in the twenties—and an extraordinary love affair between two unforgettable people: Ernest Hemingway and his wife Hadley.

In Chicago in 1920, Hadley Richardson is a quiet twenty-eight-year-old who has all but given up on love and happiness—until she meets Ernest Hemingway and finds herself captivated by his good looks, intensity, and passionate desire to write. Following a whirlwind courtship and wedding, the pair set sail for Paris, where they become the golden couple in a lively and volatile group of expatriates that includes Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound, and F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald.

But the hard-drinking and fast-living café life does not celebrate traditional notions of family and monogamy. As Hadley struggles with jealousy and self-doubt and Ernest wrestles with his burgeoning writing career, they must confront a deception that could prove the undoing of one of the great romances in literary history.

Read an excerpt!

The very first thing he does is fix me with those wonderfully brown eyes and say, "It's possible I'm too drunk to judge, but you might have something there."


It's October 1920 and jazz is everywhere. I don't know any jazz, so I'm playing Rachmaninoff. I can feel a flush beginning in my cheeks from the hard cider my dear pal Kate Smith has stuffed down me so I'll relax. I'm getting there, second by second. It starts in my fingers, warm and loose, and moves along my nerves, rounding through me. I haven't been drunk in over a year--not since my mother fell seriously ill--and I've missed the way it comes with its own perfect glove of fog, settling snugly and beautifully over my brain. I don't want to think and I don't want to feel, either, unless it's as simple as this beautiful boy's knee inches from mine.

The knee is nearly enough on its own, but there's a whole package of a man attached, tall and lean, with a lot of very dark hair and a dimple in his left cheek you could fall into. His friends call him Hemingstein, Oinbones, Bird, Nesto, Wemedge, anything they can dream up on the spot. He calls Kate Stut or Butstein (not very flattering!), and another fellow Little Fever, and yet another Horney or the Great Horned Article. He seems to know everyone, and everyone seems to know the same jokes and stories. They telegraph punch lines back and forth in code, lightning fast and wisecracking. I can't keep up, but I don't mind really. Being near these happy strangers is like a powerful transfusion of good cheer.

When Kate wanders over from the vicinity of the kitchen, he points his perfect chin at me and says, "What should we name our new friend?"

"Hash," Kate says.

"Hashedad's better," he says. "Hasovitch."

"And you're Bird?" I ask.

"Wem," Kate says.

"I'm the fellow who thinks someone should be dancing." He smiles with everything he's got, and in very short order, Kate's brother Kenley has kicked the living room carpet to one side and is manning the Victrola. We throw ourselves into it, dancing our way through a stack of records. He's not a natural, but his arms and legs are free in their joints, and I can tell that he likes being in his body. He's not the least shy about moving in on me either. In no time at all our hands are damp and clenched, our cheeks close enough that I can feel the very real heat of him. And that's when he finally tells me his name is Ernest.

"I'm thinking of giving it away, though. Ernest is so dull, and Hemingway? Who wants a Hemingway?"

Probably every girl between here and Michigan Avenue, I think, looking at my feet to keep from blushing. When I look up again, he has his brown eyes locked on me.

"Well? What do you think? Should I toss it out?"

"Maybe not just yet.”

A slow number starts, and without asking, he reaches for my waist and scoops me toward his body, which is even better up close. His chest is solid and so are his arms. I rest my hands on them lightly as he backs me around the room, past Kenley cranking the Victrola with glee, past Kate giving us a long, curious look. I close my eyes and lean into Ernest, smelling bourbon and soap, tobacco and damp cotton--and everything about this moment is so sharp and lovely, I do something completely out of character and just let myself have it.

Read the reviews!

“This remarkable novel about Ernest Hemingway’s first marriage is mesmerizing. Hadley’s voice, lean and lyrical, kept me in my seat, unable to take my eyes and ears away from these young lovers.”

—Nancy Horan, author of Loving Frank

"McLain's vivid account of the couple's love affair and expat adventures will leave you feeling sad yet dazzled."


—Parade

"One of the most important books of this year. McLain is a novelist to watch."


—Naples Daily News

"After nearly a century, there is a reason that the Lost Generation and Paris in the 1920's still fascinate. It was a unique intersection of time and place, people and inspiration, romance and intrigue, betrayal and tragedy. The Paris Wife brings that era to life through the eyes of Hadley Richardson Hemingway, who steps out of the shadows as the first wife of Ernest, and into the reader's mind, as beautiful and as luminous as those extraordinary days in Paris after the Great War."

—Mary Chapin Carpenter, singer and songwriter

ALSO AVAILABLE IN A KINDLE EDITION!
Paula McLain received an MFA in poetry from the University of Michigan and has been a resident of Yaddo and the MacDowell Colony. She is the author of two collections of poetry, as well as a memoir, Like Family, and a first novel, A Ticket to Ride. She lives in Cleveland with her family. You can visit Paula McLain’s website to learn more about The Paris Wife at http://www.pariswife.com/.

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

Book Spotlight: Reluctant Bridesmaid by Wendy Davy

Jordan Harrison no longer trusts relationships, so when her widowed mother is swept away by a handsome, wealthy architect, Jordan fears the hasty engagement will end in disaster. After all, how well can her mother know the guy after only a few months? Intent on saving her mother from certain heartbreak, Jordan races to Breckenridge Manor to delay the wedding, but runs into more than she’s bargained for—a handsome, understanding man intent on helping her heal past wounds and open her mind to new possibilities.


Known as the man with nerves of steel, Tanner Breckenridge lives up to his reputation, but it doesn’t take long for him to discover he has a soft spot for Jordan Harrison, the daughter of his father’s future bride. Loyal to his father, but captivated by Jordan, Tanner puts his heart on the line and risks everything for a chance at love.

Read an excerpt!
 
“I think a little bit of fun would do you some good.” He winked as he took one long stride toward her. He bent and scooped her from the chair.


“Tanner!” she shrieked, clutching his shoulders. His warm skin covered granite muscle underneath. She squirmed, but her movements pressed her harder against his chest as he lifted her into his arms.

He sauntered to the dock’s edge as if he had no care in the world. The water, crisp and clear loomed below.

Adrenaline spiking, she tucked her head against him. “You don’t want to do this.”

“I don’t?” A low, deep chuckle formed in his chest, vibrating against her cheek. “You can swim, right?”

“Yes, I can swim.”

“You just don’t like the idea of taking the plunge do you? Marriage or otherwise?”

“I have nothing against marriage…in general,” she defended. “And, this isn’t about my opinion regarding ‘the plunge’. This is about you,” she poked him in the chest, “tossing me into that cold water.”

“How do you know what it feels like until you try it?”

She lifted her head to offer a witty remark, but lost her breath as she found herself eye-level with Tanner’s sun-kissed neck. His scent, earthy and masculine surrounded her. She looked up. From this angle, his jaw-line appeared more defined, his features more chiseled, and his eyes a lighter shade of blue. She swallowed, but her dry mouth refused to moisten.

“Are you ready?” A small, faint scar melded into the creases beside his left eye as he smiled.

Flustered, she asked, “R-ready?” Her breathing came in quick, shallow gasps as her gaze travelled to his mouth. As good as it felt to be held in his strong arms, she wondered what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against hers.

Magical? Maybe. Out of the question? Definitely.

AVAILABLE MARCH 4, 2011 FROM WHITEROSEPUBLISHING.COM! ALSO AVAILABLE IN E-BOOK FORMAT!

 

 
 
Wendy Davy is an award winning, inspirational romance author with several titles available. She uses her active imagination and love of adventure to create faith based stories of the heart. When not writing or chasing around her young children, she spends time reading, enjoying her real-life hero and watching movies.



Visit Wendy online at http://wendydavy.com/. She loves hearing from readers and can be contacted at wendy@wendydavy.com.

March Paranormal and Fantasy Event: Magic is Faster Than Light by James Hartley

Megan Bradley and the rest of the witches were rounded up by a religious crusade and forced onto a spaceship for a 190-year multi-generation trip to another star. They soon discovered the ship had problems, and would run out of air long before they reached their destination. They were forced to use magic to get to their destination faster, before they suffocated. But then, of course, they had a whole new world to cope with ...


Read an excerpt!

Nobody but Kendra could see into the large cauldron, but soon the watchers noticed its contents were casting a strange green light on the ceiling. When she finally decided things were ready, Kendra opened the valve on the large pipe, and called to the tech at the control panel, "Start the ship's engines." He threw the switch, and after a moment there was a low rumble, similar to that during the first year of the voyage. Nothing else seemed to be happening.

Then someone who was facing the viewplate cried "Look!"

On the viewplate the stars were moving. Soon they were racing across the plate, faster and faster, as the ship gained speed, and after a while it was impossible to distinguish points of light, just streaks. One of the techs stared at the viewplate and said, "I don't believe this is happening, it violates every law of physics! But seeing those stars, we must be moving at several hundred times the speed of light." People started cheering.

COMING IN APRIL 2011 FROM MUSEITUP PUBLISHING!

ALSO BY JAMES HARTLEY, THE GHOST OF GROVER'S RIDGE. CLICK HERE FOR DETAILS!

James Hartley is a former computer programmer. Originally from northern New Jersey, he now lives in sunny central Florida. He has published a fantasy novel, "The Ghost of Grover's Ridge," and has two more, "Magic Is Faster Than Light" and "Teen Angel" due out soon. He has had stories published in the "Desolate Places", "Strange Mysteries 1 & 2", "Book of Exodi," "Christmas in Outer Space," and "Free Range Fairy Tales"  anthologies, and in various e-zines and print magazines. He is currently working on a new novel, "This Wand for Hire." He is a member of IWOFA and the Dark Fiction Guild.

Visit James online at http://teenangel.netfirms.com and his blog at http://jameshartleyauthor.blogspot.com/

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.