Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Random Lit . . . Precious Bones by Mika Ashley-Hollinger

 
Young Adult 
 
Meet ten-year-old Bones, whose playground is the Florida swamps, brimming with mystical witches, black bears, alligators and bobcats. Bones’ father, Nolay, a Miccosukee Indian, is smart and mischievous. Her Mama, practical as corn bread, can see straight into Bones’ soul.
It’s summer, and Bones is busy hunting and fishing with her best friend, Little Man. But then two Yankee real estate agents trespass on her family’s land, and Nolay scares them off with his gun. When a storm blows in and Bones and Little Man uncover something horrible at the edge of the Loo-chee swamp, the evidence of foul play points to Nolay. The only person that can help Nolay is Sheriff LeRoy, who’s as slow as pond water. Bones is determined to take matters into her own hands. If it takes a miracle, then a miracle is what she will deliver.
 
Praise for Precious Bones:

“…a tale that will already hold high interest for nature-loving readers longing for their own wild playgrounds.”—The Center for Children’s Books 

“The names of the characters alone make this a novel worth reading. How can you resist Bones, Little Man, Nolay, Soap Sally and Mr. Speed?!? Each character is as distinctive as the name they carry and the adventures they have.”—Random Acts of Reading 

“Precious Bones is a novel filled with adventure and mystery, as well as fascinating glimpses of its distinctive setting.”—Kevin Delecki, BookPage 

“I won’t be the last person to compare Mika Ashley-Hollinger’s amazing debut novel, Precious Bones to Harper Lee’s iconic To Kill A Mockingbird.”—Mindy McGinnis, author of Not a Drop to Drink 

“An intriguing debut, written lovingly to a way of life now lost.”—Booklist 

“It’s a rich stew, including hearty dollops of mystery and suspense.”—The Horn Book 

“Her voice is strong and lyrical, mixing regional syntax and dialect with lovely descriptions of the beauty she sees as she hunts, fishes, observes and explores in this mystical place.”—Kirkus Reviews 

“Like an age-appropriate To Kill a Mockingbird, it’s Bones’s interactions with well-developed, often-eccentric characters that shape this story.”—Mahnaz Dar, School Library Journal 
“Mika Ashley-Hollinger’s debut book is full of suspense and surprise…I love Bones’ easy-going nature and adventurous spirit. She’s ready to rush off into battle to defend herself and those she loves, no matter the dangers. And I want her pet raccoon, too! “—Jack and Jill Magazine

 
Mika Ashley-Hollinger was born and raised in the small community of Florida.  PRECIOUS BONES is written in tribute of a time and a way of life that no longer exist.
 
Connect with Mika:
 
 
Purchase Precious Bones:
 

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Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Random Lit. . . Change of Heart by Lilliana Rose



Steamy Romance
Date Published: November 2015


Vickie wants spice in her life, but her husband George is more interested in his work as a doctor. Left alone with nothing to fill in the time, the temptation of leaving the marriage is growing.

George wants to rekindle their love but he takes his duty helping the sick seriously, especially those who can't afford medical bills, and finds it hard to spend time with Vickie.
 
An outbreak of a mysterious illness threatens the ordered world of Vickie and George. George becomes ill, and Vickie is left to care for him, as well as trying to work out the cause of the sickness. To survive, Vickie needs to find a way to take charge in her world.




Lilliana Rose is a creative writer and poet. She enjoys pulling levers and turning cogs in steampunk worlds and dreams of travelling around the world in an airship wearing funky modern Victorian clothing.



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Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Random Lit. . . Legacy of Truth by Christy Nicholas



Historical Fiction, Historical Fantasy
Druid's Brooch Series, #2
Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing 
Release Date: July 6, 2016


Set in late 18th century Ireland, Esme must grow up quickly in small, isolated northwestern town. Her parents are leaving for America, abandoning her and her sister to fend for themselves. As she struggles to find her place, she finds it difficult to keep hold of what's left that's precious to her.

Once married and in a new town, Esme's only friend, Aisling, helps her through difficult times, as her Traveler husband stays away longer and longer plying his trade.

While Esme has had some comfort in her small family, she must now find comfort on her own, as her treacherous sister tries stealing the family heirloom to sell, a brooch reputed to have mystical powers, which had been left to her by her grandfather. Esme must learn to cope with her dwindling family and growing despair in order to keep the brooch safe.

Other Books in the Druid's Brooch Series:

Legacy of Hunger 



EXCERPT


Ardara, County Donegal, Ireland
March, 1787

Éamonn Doherty eased onto the old rocking chair beside the crackling fire. As soon as he settled, he was bombarded with children, clamoring eagerly for a story from Grandfa. 
Well, it was his fault. Whenever he returned from his wanderings around the country, he would give them a story, a tale of Ireland’s past or his own. 
The bairns settled onto the ground at his feet. There were Esme and Eithne, the twins, looking stark and thin with shocks of wild red hair and too many freckles to count. 
“That's my spot! I always sit there, Eithne, and you know it!”
Eithne looked at her sister and sniffed, saying nothing. She turned to Éamonn and blinked as if innocent.
Esme pushed at her sister, but Eithne was braced for it. She resisted the shove and looked back over her shoulder with disdain.
Fuming, Esme crossed her arms.
In the far corner, with her arms wrapped firmly around her knees, sat the youngest sister, wee Brighid. Everyone called her Bridey. Her solemn green eyes peered at him, owl-like. She must be about ten years old by now. And little Níaṁ wasn’t a sister, but a cousin, her parents having died of a fever. A brown wren, she was plump and sweet, still a toddler.
Éamonn would have preferred some grandsons to pass his stories to, but his son and daughter-in-law, Brian and Shona, had given him only granddaughters thus far. Still, he loved them dearly. His two other children were both dedicated to the church, so Brian was his last hope for grandsons. Éamonn looked at the girls and decided perhaps a story of a manly hero might do them for the night.
He fixed his eyes on wee Níaṁ until she giggled nervously. He tousled up his thick white hair until it looked like a lion and she laughed. Smiling, he began.
“Tonight our tale will begin with a hero of great fame, for who has never heard of Fionn Mac Cumhaill, leader of the Fianna, Warriors of Ireland?”
Timidly, Bridey raised her hand.
Interrupted, Éamonn cocked his head. “Yes, child? What is it, my dear?”
“I haven’t heard of him, Grandfa.”
Éamonn closed his eyes, reaching for patience. The children weren’t to know what a rhetorical question was. 
“That’s all right, mo chuisle. I will be telling you now, so?”
The girl nodded and wrapped her hands more tightly around her knees until she was just a pair of feet, arms and a curly mass of red hair sparkling in the firelight. For a moment, Éamonn went back in time, to the memory of his dear, long-dead wife, Katie. She had hair such as that, wild and bright. The windows rattled as the wind outside picked up. The children all shifted uncomfortably.
“The Fianna were a band of warriors, pledged to protect the shores of Ireland from foreigners. Fionn’s father was the leader of the Fianna, so he had his son raised by a warrior woman. Have you ever seen a warrior woman, Eithne?”
“I have!” The girl was the boldest of the lot. “There is a woman who hunts up in Bunbeg. I heard Alan say she came into his dad’s bakery one day!”
“I heard that first! He told me first.” Esme said.
“Girls, that’s enough. Would you like to know about this warrior woman?”
It did the trick. All four children looked up at him, expectant.
He grinned and got back into the rhythm of his tale. 
“This great woman was called Liath Luachra, and she was tall, with long muscles and longer hair. Her brown hair she kept in thin braids, which went all the way down to her knees. She was a fierce warrior, always clad in skins and furs, and she taught Fionn all her arts. When he had learned all he could from her, he left to join the Fianna. 
“But the Fianna knew him for his father’s son and worried for his youth and safety. They told him he must leave, and they could not protect him from harm. This angered Fionn, so he left in a temper. After his temper had cooled, he sought out a Druid to learn wisdom. The Druid he found was named Finnegas. Finnegas spent seven years trying to catch the Salmon of Knowledge, and he had just caught the fish before Fionn found him. It roasted on the fire, and Finnegas told Fionn to watch it while he got more firewood. 
“Fionn watched the fish, watched it bubble and pop, sizzle and squeak.” 
Níaṁ let out a squeak of her own to help with the sound effects.
“He saw a great blister form on the skin of the salmon, growing larger and larger, about to pop. He pressed his thumb to it to push it back down so the skin wouldn’t be blemished. As he did so, his skin burned, so he stuck his thumb in his mouth.” Éamonn demonstrated with his finger and looked around until each child did the same.
“But he had done a terrible thing, now.” 
“What was so horrible, Grandfa?” Bridey asked with wide eyes. “All he did was touch the fish!” She replaced the thumb in her mouth absent-mindedly.
“Ah, that is true. But, you see, Fionn was the first to taste of the flesh of the Salmon of Knowledge, and it meant he now had all the Salmon’s great wisdom. Finnegas was furious and chased him out with a club, but Fionn now had the knowledge and wisdom he needed to lead the Fianna fairly.”
All the girls watched him for the end of the tale.
“In the end, he controlled his own fate, and therefore could make himself happy. That's all that any one of us can do, aye?”
When Níaṁ realized the tale was over, she belatedly removed her thumbs from her mouth. As she did, he picked her up into his lap and rocked in front of the fire with her. She was a solid, warm little child. Brian might not be able to make his farm work well, but he at least kept his children fed.
He sang a sad, low song of lost love and broken promises until each child fell asleep on the soft, white wings of fantasy.



Christy Nicholas lives in western New York State with her husband, dog, cats and sugar gliders. She works as an accountant, an artist, and an author, and is likely looking for another career that begins with A.




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Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Random Lit. . . The Burning City by Megan Morgan


Urban Fantasy
Date Published: July 5, 2016



Book #3 of the Siren Song series:

When the smoke clears, who will be left standing?

Tattoo artist June Coffin has another, more hidden talent: she’s a Siren who can influence people with the sound of her voice. But in the wake of a murder and shake-up at the Institute of Supernatural Research, her own powers are starting to kill her. The only chance she has of saving herself—as well as her kidnapped brother and best friend—is to become a vampire. But joining the ranks of the vengeful vamp, Occam Reed, is the last thing June wants to do.

Occam isn’t the only danger June needs to worry about. Power hungry telepath Robbie Beecher will stop at nothing to gain control over Chicago. He’ll destroy anyone who gets in his way—and June’s lover, Sam, is high on the hit list since his bid for Mayor. With the city and June’s heart being pulled in different directions, it’s only a matter of time before the powder keg explodes…and time isn’t something June has much of left. With a city on fire, can she rise from its ashes?



EXCERPT



The things on the vanity were meant for guests: lotion, shampoo, soap, cologne. A hairbrush, wrapped in plastic. She picked it up and peeled the plastic off.
Her face was so gaunt, her lips dark, her eyes burning green as always, though oddly, once again, not with as much intensity as before.
She started idly brushing her hair. The brush was a good salon-quality one; it deserved some use. Sam was unlikely to have guests again anytime soon.
Except for one guest, and he arrived shortly.
A shadow moved outside the doors. Momentarily, the shadow materialized into something more solid, stepping into the light.
Occam was no vision of the classic romantic vampire. He wore jeans, battered sneakers, and a ratty stained T-shirt. He leaned casually against one of the doors, hip jutted out.
She paused brushing, and then resumed.
He gazed at her, silent; finally, he stepped away from the doors and walked across the room toward her.
She placed the brush on the vanity and watched him in the mirror.
He stopped behind her and bent down so his face was next to hers. His gray, pale eyes reminded her of Robbie’s, though somehow more sinister. He gently smoothed her hair over her opposite shoulder, baring her neck. He didn’t smell as repulsive as he usually did. Maybe he’d taken a shower for the occasion.
“You don’t have to invite me in,” he said. “That’s just a fairy tale.”
“Yet you waited.”
He continued stroking her hair. His touch made the back of her neck prickle.
“You’ve been a busy man lately,” she said. “I’m surprised you have the time to watch me.”
“I didn’t kill them all. I am but one drone in the hive.”
“You were the one burning out their eyes. You still have the light.”
He chuckled softly, a flash of fangs peeking out between his cracked lips. “At least Sam knows it’s being put to good use.”
She tilted her head as his fingers dragged through her hair, pulling it.
“I want to ask you something,” she said.
He made a soft sound of assent. His closeness was terrifyingly intimate.
“Can you get me and Sam inside the Institute?”
“Where Robbie is.”
“Yes.” She blinked at their reflection. “Can you get us in there? Get us to him?”
“He’ll kill Sam.”
“Maybe. But can you at least get us in there?”
His eyes glittered. “I can.” He ceased stroking her hair and rested his hand on her shoulder. “We’ve been monitoring his ridiculous antics. He thinks he’s so clever.”
“If he goes through with what he’s planning, his followers will destroy this city.”
“What a pity.” Occam stroked his fingertip up the side of her neck along her jugular.
She pulled away and turned on the stool. “I need to ask two things of you.” 
He stood upright and stepped back. He opened his hands. “Ask.”
“I want you to get us inside the Institute.”
He gripped her chin, tilting her face up. “And the other?”
“I want Jason and Diego returned to me. Safely.” She stared up at him.
He rubbed her chin with his thumb. “And what do I get in return?”
She gripped his wrist. He stilled his rubbing. She took his hand, opened his fingers, and pressed her lips to his palm. His skin was rough, and he smelled like something raw and visceral, like—blood?
“Everything you want,” she whispered.









Megan Morgan is an award winning urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and erotica author from Cleveland, Ohio. RWA member, bartender by day, and purveyor of things that go bump in the night, she’s trying to turn writing into her day job so she can be on the other side of the bar for a change. Hailing from the often-wintry shores of Lake Erie, she lives with an attention-seeking cat and her adult son, both of which shed too much.




Purchase Links



Giveaway

$10 Amazon Gift Card







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Friday, June 3, 2016

Random Lit . . . BIG by Emme Rollins



Erotic Romance, New Adult, Military, Romantic Suspense

 Purchase Link (Amazon): https://www.amazon.com/BIG-Bad-Boy-Stepbrother-Romance-ebook/dp/B01GGPDLKS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1464818794&sr=8-1&keywords=B01GGPDLKS



Date Published: June 3, 2016



Publisher: Fido Publishing



Synopsis:


He’s big. He’s bad. And he only wants one thing. 

Revenge.
Ric Ryker spent years being called “Big Dick.” 
Ridiculed for his weight, shunned by all the pretty girls, snubbed by all the cool guys. 
But after a secret journey of transformation, he’s back—ready to take over leadership from his father at Ryker Arms—with an impressive new physique and a plan to prove them all wrong.
Especially her.
The one woman who hurt him the most. 
Annalesa—smart, sassy, stunning.
And his stepsister. 
The girl he could never have. 
The girl who wouldn’t look twice at him anyway—especially in front of her stuck-up friends. 
Now he’s going to make her want him. 
Show her just what she was missing. 
And hurt her, just like she hurt him. 
He’s got the weapon and he’s taken aim—but he didn’t count on his own heart getting caught in the crossfire.




EXCERPT:



“Leesa, I’m still not so sure this is a good idea…” Ric looked down at her, a frown turning the corners of his perfect mouth down just slightly. “I don’t know what to think.”
“Please trust me.” She kissed his chest, rubbing her cheek there, her voice almost a whisper. “I should have tried harder. I should have told you how I felt. I should have been brave then, I know.” 
“Oh Leesa.” His lips brushed the top of her head. 
“But I wasn’t brave then. And I’m sorry, Ric. I’m so sorry. I’ve been sorry every single day we’ve been apart, every minute that you were out of my reach.” 
“Oh Christ.” He sighed. 
“But you have to understand something.” She lifted her face and met his eyes, squaring her shoulders. “There are only so many times I can explain, only so many ways I can apologize. I know what happened… it made you feel awful, and I’m sorry you were hurt. But Ric—I never did any of it on purpose. I never, ever set out to hurt you.” 
“I know.”
She felt weightless as he lifted her onto the ledge of the booth, feeling the warmth of his palms through the thin cotton of her top as he kept his hands around her waist.
“So you forgive me?” She knew the question was in her eyes as she put her arms around his neck. 
“If we do this…” His thumbs stroked her belly, on either side of her navel, a delicious distraction. “I need to trust you. Completely.” 
“Okay.” She nodded, her heart soaring at the possibility. She wouldn’t have admitted it to her closest friend or even confessed it to a priest on her death bed before this moment, but this, with Ric, was what she wanted, what she’d always wanted. 
“We’ll have to keep it secret.” His thumbs brushed beneath her top, stroking her bare skin. He looked over his shoulder, checking they were alone. “At least, for a while.”
“Yeah.” She winced, not relishing the thought of telling their parents.
“Leesa, I really need to trust you.” His grip tightened, his fingers digging into her sides so hard it almost hurt. He was so strong! “I imagine our relationship’s going to be tested. A lot.” 
“I know.” She nodded vigorously, agreeing, the word ‘relationship’ from his mouth secretly thrilling her. “Ric, I promise, I—”
“I mean it. This isn’t a joke. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” His harsh words jarred her senses but he didn’t let her go. His hands were under her shirt now, fully on her skin, his big palms spreading heat through her whole body. “Because, I may ask you to prove it, Leesa.”
“I will,” she breathed, straightening her spine so she could get her lips closer to his. “I swear, I’ll do whatever I have to, to prove my feelings for you, this time.”
“Good.” He gave her a slow, weary smile, and then he kissed her, his mouth soft and open, not demanding anymore. 
“What now?” she breathed as they parted. If he’d wanted to take her right then, right there, she would have done whatever he asked. 
“We take it slow.” He rested his forehead against hers. “And keep us a secret.”
“Us.” She smiled at that. 
“You up for more target practice?” He smiled, too, glancing down at her gun as he took a step back. 
“I’ll probably miss the target entirely.” She grinned, sliding off the ledge and putting her hands to her flushed cheeks. “But it’s probably a good idea for me to cool down a little before we leave.” 
Ric helped her relax into her stance and, with the weight of their conflict gone, she went on to make six bullseyes out of ten shots on the next two targets, and the remaining shots clustered close around the center. 
“Damn, girl.” Ric clapped. “I’m impressed. Remind me not to give you any reason to shoot at me.” 
“You’re the last person I’d want to shoot at.” She smiled and emptied the last cartridges out of the magazine, handing them back to him, along with the gun. “At least, most of the time.” 
“Except when I’m being a dick?” He snorted and she laughed as he led them back to the armory to check in their weapons. 

About the Author:


Emme Rollins is a NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author of New Adult/Mature Young Adult fiction. She’s been writing since she could hold a crayon and still chews her pen caps to a mangled plastic mess. She did not, however, eat paste as a kid. 

She has two degrees, a bachelor’s and a master’s, one of which she’s still paying for, but neither of which she uses out in the “real world,” because when she isn’t writing, she spends her time growing an organic garden to feed her husband and children (and far too many rabbits and deer!) where they live on twenty gorgeous forested acres in rural Michigan.
She loves tending her beehives, keeping up with her daily yoga practice and going for long walks in the woods with her boxer dog, who loves chasing squirrels almost as much as Emme loves writing!
Emme loves hearing from fans, so feel free to use the contact page on her site (emmerollins.com) to connect with her.

Contact Links:
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