Friday, April 17, 2015

Book Tour Giveaway:Legacy, by Ellery A. Kane YA


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Legacy is distracting us today my fellow   book-lovers!
Here we go!


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Title:  Legacy
Author:  Ellery A. Kane
Published:  September 17th, 2014
Publisher:  Balboa Press
Genre:  YA
Recommended Age:  13+


Synopsis:
How do you want to feel today?
In 2041, the choice is yours.
San Francisco is deserted, the Bay Bridge bombed, and the BART subway trains grounded. The Guardians, members of an elite and mysterious government-appointed military police force, are maintaining order at all costs—thanks to emotion-altering drugs like Emovere that suppress fear and anxiety. Lex Knightley, daughter of a prominent forensic psychiatrist, risks entering the devastated city to partner with the Resistance, a group of rebels intent upon exposing the dangers of Emovere. Lex discovers an ally in Quin McAllister, a magnetic Guardian Force recruit with a haunting past that binds them together. As she uncovers the secrets of the Guardian Force and confronts the truth about her family, Lex begins to realize that even those closest to her are not quite who they seem.




Excerpt from Legacy by Ellery A. Kane:

The first time I kissed someone, it wasn’t at all like I had imagined—and trust me when I say that I had spent hours imagining it. It was a summer night just after my seventeenth birthday. We were sitting side by side in the empty football stadium. I can still feel the bleachers, cold and hard beneath my legs. My elbow was touching the side of his body. I could feel how warm he was. He didn’t move, but just let me touch him. The air between us was thick with anticipation. And then, just like that, his lips were on mine. In a few seconds, a wall that had once seemed impenetrable was crossed. I was no longer unkissed.

* * *

The first time I killed someone, it wasn’t at all like I had imagined. It was as quick and as effortless as snipping a string. I squeezed the trigger, and the man fell back. It was so dark that I could barely see the outline of his face. I watched him for a long time, waiting for something. What was I waiting for? The man didn’t move, except for a brief shudder. It seemed for a moment as if I too had stopped breathing. But in the cold I could see my breath visible in small white puffs. I waited for the world to open up and swallow me, but nothing came. In the corner where I hid, I saw a small brown bird hopping. He reached the edge of my vision and took flight. It was only me who had changed.


About the Author:
In her non-fiction life, Ellery Kane works as a forensic psychologist. Evaluating violent criminals and treating victims of trauma has afforded her a unique perspective on the past and its indelible influence on the individual. An avid short story writer in adolescence, Ellery only recently began writing for enjoyment again, and Legacy was born.





Giveaway Details:
There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:

  • 10 Signed print copies of Legacy (US & Canada) 

a Rafflecopter giveaway



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Keep being distracted by reading,
Urania

Friday, April 10, 2015

Book Blitz Giveaway: Blood of Shadows by Mariana Thorn

Today's distraction comes from an amazing fantasy story!
Enjoy!
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Title:   Blood of Shadows
Author:   Mariana Thorn
Published:  February 13th, 2015
Publisher:   Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing
Genre:  Fantasy
Content Warning:  Mild Violence


Synopsis:
War is coming to the Three Kingdoms, Malna, Zockii and Tirllyn.

Attacks along the borders are growing more frequent. Innocent people are dying. Princess Malayna and the rest of the elite fighters known as the Shadows are tasked with investigating and relocating the people, and rumors of a traitor among the Shadows has Layna stretched to her limits.

When she is paired with Kester, a partner she never wanted, she finds herself learning to trust and survive in more ways than she even knew existed.

With lives at stake, Malayna must find a way to catch the traitor, protect her people and guard her heart, because someone she loves may not live to see tomorrow…


Amazon | GoodReads


Excerpt for Blood of Shadows by Mariana Thorn:

The morning had passed into early midday when Onyx's ear flickered and his stride faltered. It wasn't long before I heard what he was hearing. Hoof beats, coming fast and hard behind us. The first horse sounded like one of the light fast messenger horses. There were at least two other horses giving chase.

I signaled Onyx to move into the forest and pulled out my bow. I had an arrow notched by the time the messenger passed me. Hot on his heels were three brigand. I let the arrow fly and was surprised that it actually hit the lead rider in the throat. He fell in front of one of the other horses which didn't have time to miss him. The horse went down tripping over the body. The rider went flying, he would be easy to catch.

Now I just had to chase down the third rider. I pushed Onyx into a gallop, pulling my sword out at the same time. He glanced back and saw me, almost falling off his horse on his own. I would have laughed, but I was about to either take his life or capture him. Both options would not bode well for him. He pulled a sword. I could not risk getting injured or having my horse injured. He would have to die.


I rode up next to him, knocked his sword up leaving his side open. I thrust my sword up under his arm aiming for his heart. When I pulled it out blood spouted from the wound. He fell from the horse dead. I cringed a little when his foot got stuck in the stirrup. The horse took off dragging the body with him. That could be dealt with later. There was a cavalier outpost not far from here. They could clean up that mess.


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About the Author:
If you look in the local coffee shop or bookstore you might just find Mariana Thorn. She can usually be found with headphones in and deep into the worlds she has created. There is this thing about her pens, if you touch them you might receive a smack to the hand and the well-known glare of destruction. Besides writing, Mariana enjoys reading, photography, and playing with her dog. She lives in Western Washington, but loves to travel to Florida to sit on the beach to write. She is the author of Fantasy and Mystery stories. She currently has two titles in her Fur, Fangs, and Fairies series. There are three short stories available in her Skylar Wolfe Mysteries. There are many more books and series to come.






Giveaway Details:
There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:
  • An ebook set of the Skylar Wolfe Series (3 short ebooks)
  • An ebook of Seizing Darkness
  • 3 sets of bookmarks

Giveaway is International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway



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Keep being distracted by reading,
Urania

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Book Blitz : The Extraction List,Sci-Fi, Dystopian story by Renee N. Meland

Come get disrtacted with a Dystopian, Sci-Fi story  today!


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Title:  The Extraction List
Series:  The Extraction List Series, Book 1
Author:   Renee N. Meland

Publisher: Limitless PublishingRelease Date: April 7th, 2015

Genre:  Sci-Fi Dystopian
Content Warning:  Minor violence and adult language
Recommended Age:  13+

Synopsis:

When fifteen-year-old Riley Crane finds out her best friend Olivia is being abused at home, she knows just who to turn to: her mother Claire, writer and spokesperson for President Gray’s Parental Morality Law. Under this law, Task Force Officers remove children from their homes if their parents do not meet certain guidelines, taking them to government-run boarding schools. Once they arrive, supervisors rehabilitate them, turning them into productive members of society. Or at least that was how it was supposed to work…

Now, after a government official threatens to make Riley the law’s latest victim, Riley and Claire must rely on Cain Foley, a gifted killer with a tongue as sharp as the knives he carries, to get them out of America alive. Though he slices through men’s necks as if they are warm butter, Riley can’t seem to keep her cheeks from flushing every time he speaks. But when they stumble upon a deserted boarding school, Riley sees that escaping the country is only part of their problem. Together, Riley and Cain figure out that a killer can save a life, and a mother can damn a nation.


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About the Author:

Renee N. Meland lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two dogs. She is currently working on the third book in The Extraction List Series (the second is available now). Her favorite obsessions are Rome, learning new recipes, and exploring the world around her. She is an avid reader of speculative fiction, and believes that telling stories is the best job in the world.




Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Blog




Excerpt from The Extraction List by Renee N. Meland:



Blackness covered the bar from top to bottom: black walls, black furniture. The only color came from the faces of the sweaty, shiny patrons who looked like they had seen better days. They didn’t seem to mind being surrounded by darkness. Most of them just stared at their beer mugs anyway, so I guessed the décor didn’t make much difference. The paint on the walls dangled off in flakes like fingernail polish, and I fought off the urge to go pick at it.
I kept my eyes straight ahead as we made our way toward the bartender. His head had a big gap in the middle where hair should be, and the hair that remained on the sides overlapped the top of his ears. His shirt had once been white, but streaks of yellow lined the armpits and stretched downward, much like his skin: overused and under-cared-for.
Bo set his bag on an empty barstool and waited for the bartender to turn around. His back was to us, but I could see that he was drying a glass over and over again. Mom waved at him. “Excuse me, where can we find a man named Cain?”
I was facing away from the bar’s customers, but I could swear I felt them staring at us after Mom spoke, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The bartender set his glass down hard. He turned his greasy face toward us. And laughed.
“Haha, lady…you’re in waaay over your head. If Cain wants to find you, he’ll find you. Lookin’ like he already did.” His eyes moved toward the barstool where the bag of money had been. The stool sat empty.
“Oh my God! Where’d it go? Bo!” Mom’s head swirled around. Bo glared at the bartender.
“Don’t look at me, man, I didn’t take it. SHE did.” He pointed toward a doorway at the back of the bar. The beautiful, dark haired woman from the picture stood there, letting the bag dangle gracefully from her long fingers. She smiled.
“Misplace something?” She let the bag fall from her grasp, and Bo jetted over to grab it. When he was bending over to get it, Jordyn shoved it away with her foot and made him chase it a couple times before she gave in. The bartender found himself laughing at us once again. “Follow me.”
The doorway Jordyn had been standing in front of lead to a staircase. We formed a line behind her and followed her down into the darkness. Though there were no lights, Jordyn hit every step. I tried hard not to stumble but managed to snag my toe more than once.
Jordyn lectured us: “Did you see how easy that was? The three of you are going to have to be more careful if you’re gonna make this trip. I can give you clothes, shoes, and a route, but I can’t give you plain old common sense. Even Cain can’t give that to you.”
I almost tumbled headfirst down the stairs, but Jordyn caught me and stood me back up.
“I’ve never seen anything like it…just coming into a bar with a bag of money dressed like THIS?” She picked at Bo’s suit with two fingers, like he was infested with some contagious disease. Her eyes then turned to Mom. Jordyn looked her up and down, from her stilettos to the bobby pins that held her hair back. “Were you TRYING to stick out like a skinny kid at fat camp? If I hadn’t been there, those guys woulda stolen your money and had you thinkin’ they did you a favor. Then we’d all be screwed.”
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I glanced backward. The staircase stood almost vertical, and it reminded me of an old fairy tale where a bear cub disobeyed the rules and wandered deeper and deeper into a cave. I remembered it didn’t turn out too well for the bear.
The room only had one light, and it hovered above a gray metal desk at the far end of the room. Though the desk was free of any office supplies that would help someone put it to some use, I saw a man sitting at it with his back toward us. He slouched in his chair.
Five cots lined the room, and each had only one thin blanket. The blankets barely covered the tops of the cots, and the fabric was stained brown with age. A black backpack sat at the edge of each of our beds. The cement floor clinked with each footstep, and I doubted we would be able to stay warm that night. The heat outside couldn’t seem to find its way in, and there was a chill in the basement that went straight to my bones.
Or maybe it was him.
“Cain, they’re here.”
The man turned in his chair.
I recognized him from the photo Bo showed us, but the photo had not done him any justice. His eyes were the blue of blue M&Ms. I didn’t think they made people with eyes that blue. The way he moved his hands was like they floated through the air, in one endless, graceful motion. His hair was the brown like the brown of Mom’s favorite dresser, the one where all the pictures of Aidan rested. I stifled a smile.
I noticed a long tattoo on his forearm, stretching the length of it in a deep brown, nearly matching his hair. I never wanted a tattoo myself, but I was always curious about what people loved enough to paint on their bodies with ink and needles. His tattoo was a long rectangle, stopping a couple inches below the top of his wrist to stretch out into two sections that wrapped around to the other side of his forearm. The long rectangle started again after the two offshoots jetted off, and the whole shape was covered in complicated patterns. I stared at it for a long time, squinting so that I could make out every detail. After he moved his arm slightly, I could see the other side of the tattoo. I realized the shape was a cross.
“Money?” Cain didn’t move from his slouching position. His fingers rested intertwined in front of his chest. Jordyn snatched the bag away from Bo and set it on the desk. It landed with a thud. Finally, Cain shot out of his chair and ripped the bag open while keeping his eyes on Bo. “Not nearly enough for your lot.” Cain pushed the bag over the side of the desk and let the money spill onto the floor in a storm of green snowflakes.
Bo’s voice quivered. “What do you mean? This is your asking price. So this is what I brought.”
Bo’s voice wasn’t supposed to quiver.
Cain smiled widely, in that way that people do when they think the person they’re speaking to is a complete idiot. “Look, we’ve got one government rat, that would be you, and a woman who’s the face of all this mess. With more risk comes more reward.” He smiled and gestured around the room. “That is supposed to be the American dream you people work for after all, right?” He stepped in a wad of green money and gently rubbed it into the floor with his foot. After he was done, he sat back at his desk, looking rather pleased with himself.
Mom stepped toward him. “Please, we swear we’ll get you your money. It’s not my daughter’s fault. We’re all she’s got!” Mom tried to stand strong and still, but I could see her hands were shaking.
I marched past her.
When I reached Cain’s desk, I hopped right on top of it and sat down. He may have been good-looking (really…really good-looking), but I wasn’t thrilled about the way he was talking to us. “You’re kind of a jerk, aren’t you? My mom’s been through enough tonight. If you aren’t gonna help us, just say so.”
He looked at me square in the eyes.
I stared right back.
He grinned. “I’d have to agree. Not much fear in you, huh, Riley?”
I shook my head. Right then another piece of information about him crept out of my memory, another clue that would help me rediscover him. Crossing my legs in a sitting yoga pose, I asked, “Did you really kill a man in a room with nothing but an orange, a glass of water, and a toothpick?”
Cain’s eyes met mine. He laughed. His laugh sounded like a children’s choir singing, short little notes one right after the other.
He leaned toward me like he was going to tell me a secret. I could smell fresh mint as his breath brushed my face. “Ah, you must have seen that TV report about me.” Of course. I had seen a documentary on him a few months earlier. And if I remembered correctly, the reporter didn’t exactly praise him with flying colors. “Mostly garbage, some truth.” He paused, running his hand gently across his desk. “I like you, so I’ll tell you…it was a grapefruit…and three men.” He winked. Looking around my shoulder, he declared, “Alright, I’ll do it.”
Mom thanked Cain for his understanding, but as the words fell from her lips, she gestured for me to back away from him and stand beside her. I could see Jordyn roll her eyes from across the room. She must not have gotten the message about leaving my mom alone. “Why don’t you want to help us? What did we do to you?”
“It’s nothing personal, just worried about how we are going to get THESE two across the border,” she pointed to Bo and Mom, “without getting ourselves killed in the process.” After looking them over once more, she sighed. “I have my work cut out for me. I hope nobody here has an aversion to dressing down.”
Cain smiled. “That’s why you’re the best, Jordyn. Get them dressed and ready…we’re leaving at first light. I need them ready to run out the door the minute I say so. Oh and you…” He pointed at Bo, then at the money on the floor. “Pick that up.”





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Keep being distracted by reading,
Urania

Friday, March 20, 2015

Book Tour Giveaway:Remember Della by Cynthia Mock Burroughs



Title: Remember Della
Author Name: Cynthia Mock Burroughs


Book Genre: Paranormal Mystery
Publisher: Self published
Release Date: Remember Della is available at this time at the buy links below.
Buy Link(s):



Book Description:

Kat, a “slightly" psychic sixteen-year-old, begins having disturbingly persistent dreams. Dreams of a yellow scarf - with a seeming life of its own - which taunts her and haunts her every dream. Dreams about Della, a fellow classmate, who to this point has remained all but invisible to any and every one at school. Kat eventually comes to the realization that until she unravels the mystery surrounding that “dagblasted” creepy yellow scarf and this girl she hardly knows, she'll not have another night’s rest. What Kat soon discovers is that she is the only person in Della’s life (including the girl’s mother and stepfather) who recognizes - or will admit - Della has simply vanished, gone “splitsville"!  And Kat is helpless as her life becomes indelibly intertwined with Della’s – so much so, that she will carry the emotional scars for years to come.

Kat is surrounded by an extremely colorful cast of characters. You will meet: long-time friend and recent love interest, Em; Kat’s precocious eight-year-old brother, Gordy; her feisty octogenarian neighbor, Mrs. Harper and a chain smoking waitress named Clovis. All who, for various reasons,  join Kat’s desperate quest to help a girl she hardly knows and to find answers to questions that, with any luck, will bring her the peace she seeks – the biggest question on her mind being, “Why me?”

“Remember Della” - which is predominately set in the South during the mid-fifties - is chock full of facts, trivia and slang from that era. While an entertaining read, I believe this book addresses bullying - both physical and emotional - in a fresh and unique way during a time before such issues were “labeled” as unacceptable or problematic.



Author Bio:

I was born and raised in the South and to this day reside in South Carolina with my dashing husband, crotchety cat and nimble Jack Russell. My first novel, Remember Della, definitely reflects that Southern upbringing; and like Katherine, my main protagonist, I am also a child of the fifties.

I have enjoyed reading my entire life and relish childhood memories of long, languid summers spent in lawn chairs beneath shady old trees—my best friend and I devouring one library book after another. I hope to be proof of the old adage that everyone has at least one good book in them—but suppose that remains to be seen. You, the reader, will be the judge of that.

Drawing and painting have always been passions of mine, but I had never tried my hand at writing until my mother passed away several years ago. During my grieving process I found that painting was not keeping my mind as busy as I would have liked. Painting allowed me too much time to think. So in an attempt to ease my sadness, I decided to try a new creative outlet. The result was a 24,000 word children's chapter book (as yet unpublished) and a newfound love—writing! In fact, I am in love with the entire writing process, especially the part where I get to tell really tall tales—and get away with it . . .

 Author Links -
Twitter @cmburroughs


Excerpt One 

I sat at the kitchen table while Momma contemplated what to do
with the ground beef thawing out on the counter. She settled on
goulash and was checking the pantry to see if she had all the ingredients
when it occurred to her she hadn’t heard a peep out of Gordy.
The quietude must have alerted her to his absence.

She turned to me, “Where’s Gordy—up in his room?”

I shook my head no. “He’s not home yet.”

She checked her watch and asked, “Did you hear his bus come
by?”

“No’m. It’s probably running late.”

“Gordy should be home by now, Katherine.” She gave me a doubtful
look and asked, “You’re sure his bus hasn’t come by?”

The look of concern on her face was fleeting, and we both cringed
as Gordy heralded his arrival by slamming the front door so hard the
house shook. Momma yelled at the top of her lungs, “Gordy!” When
he came barreling through the doorway she asked, “How many times
have I told you not to slam the door like that? You’ve already taken a
minimum of ten years off my life!”
He never even heard a word she said because he was talking louder
and faster than his customary mile-a-minute. His words practically
ran together as he said, “You shoulda seen it! Sammy Spellman
throwed up all over prissy ol’ Becky Taylor on the bus! We had beets
for lunch an’ Sammy ate a whole bowl of ‘em. I bet that’s what made
him throw up. He says he likes ‘em, but I don’t believe it for a minute.
I think he just eats ‘em to show off. But the really good part is
Sammy’s throw-up was all red—like he was throwing up blood! Then
ol’ Becky started crying an’ everything, and Cindy Walker started
gagging ‘cause throw-up splattered all over her shoes an’ then she
throwed up. It was so cool! They were sitting across the aisle from
me, an’ I got to see it all. And Becky, with her weirdo-self, told Mikey
Olson she was gonna wipe throw up on him ‘cause he laughed
at her. And the bus driver had to stop the bus an’ calm everybody
down. It was Coolsville!

I could see Momma was trying to keep a straight face as she said,
“Gordy that’s enough—there’s nothing cool about someone throwing
beets up all over the place.”

“Well I couldn’t be sure, but from the smell of it I think Sammy
must’ve been sick at both ends. I tell–”

“Gordy!!!” Gordy was treading on very thin ice.

“It’s the truth! It was gross I tell ya. Gross enough to gag a maggot!
Everybody sitting around ‘em looked like they were gonna
puke—’cept me. The bus driver made everybody get off, and
the monitor had to go to somebody’s house to call for another
bus and for Sammy an’ Becky an’ Cindy’s parents to come and
get ‘em.”

“Dear Lord, I hope Sammy’s not contagious.” And in spite of the fact
we weren’t Catholic, Momma crossed herself.


Excerpt Two 

I HATED THAT despicable clock. I hated the way those two nerve-jangling,
damnable bells blasted me so urgently from sleep
every morning. I snatched the clock up, shut off the alarm
and slammed the offending thing back onto the nightstand.
Throwing the covers back and my legs over the side of the
bed, I stood unsteadily a moment before aiming my body at
the door leading to the hall. Destination—the bathroom. But as
my fingers touched the doorknob the clock began its shrill intonations
again. Oh dear Lord! That sound, so early in the morning,
was the equivalent of fingernails screeeking down a chalkboard.
Hadn’t I just turned the dad-blamed thing off? Maybe I
jarred the lever into the ‘on’ position when I, perhaps a little too
vigorously, delivered the clock back to its pocked resting place.

I retraced my steps and after turning the alarm off, again,
placed the clock on the nightstand—a little more gently
this time. And for more reasons than one, I moved a wee
bit faster for the bedroom door. I reached it a second time
and stopped cold—the God-forsaken clock was, once again,
clanging for attention! With the strangest mixture of anger,
fear and foreboding I walked back, turned the alarm off a
third time and buried ‘Baby Ben’ not only under the covers,
but both pillows as well. Then I ran back to the door, jerked
it open and took off through it.

Instead of the hall outside my bedroom door, I found myself
out on the street in front of my house—still dressed in baby
doll pajamas and walking toward my bus stop. There wasn’t
time to go home and change. The school bus had arrived
and it sat idling as a half-dozen students climbed on. I waved
and yelled for them to wait, but no one seemed to hear.

Running for the bus wasn’t even an option, for it was suddenly
as if my feet and I were slogging through knee-deep
mud. I could only watch as the door closed and the bus
pulled off without me. Oddly, I felt thoroughly and utterly
bereft—as if all my hopes and dreams had taken off with that
big yellow bus.

As the bus lumbered down the road something yellow flew
out an open window. Even from where I stood I could see it
was a scarf—a yellow scarf—lifting, floating and fluttering in
the early morning breeze.

My legs came unglued and I began running after that scarf
like my life depended upon reaching it before it touched
the ground. I caught up to it, but each time I attempted to
pluck it from the air a breeze would whisk it away, lifting it
just beyond my reach over and over again. I soon began to
tire of the game and was about to abandon the chase when
the wind picked up and blew the scarf toward me instead of
away, pressing it against the lower half of my face. Slowly,
almost as if caressing me, the scarf began to move along my
skin. It slid over my mouth, under my chin, and down my neck.
Snaking round and round my throat, it became longer and
longer, tighter and tighter—and I began struggling for air . . .


Giveaway
Signed Paperbacks, Ebooks and Gift Cards to readers


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Keep being distracted by reading,
Urania

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Book Tour Giveaway: The Hunted by C.J. Hart

Let's get distarcted into the paranormal world today...

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Title:  The Hunted
Series:  The Abandoned Series, Book 1
Author:  C.J. Hart
Published:  March 31st, 2015
Publisher:  Clean Teen Publishing
Genre:  YAm Paranormal Romance
Content Warning:  Mild violence, adult language
Recommended Age:  13+



Synopsis:
Just your average boy-meets-girl, boy-kills-people story.
The Native American Navajo tribe has stories of a monster so wicked, so blood-thirsty, that they are to be hunted down and slaughtered. But are they just legends? Or is something sinister lurking in the shadows? The Yee Naaldlooshi—skinwalkers—have the ability to transform themselves. And they can be anyone. Anything.

The Hunters—a group dedicated to tracking the creatures—are hot on their trail and they won’t stop until every last one is dead. But are they all as evil as foretold? Seb, alpha of the Taylor, Arizona reservation pack, begins to question the acts of their kind. But he’s broken a rule and must choose between killing the girl he loves or risking everything to save her. Cassie must fight for her survival. The pack is after her. And they’re no joke. Cass is about to find out how sadistic they can be.



Amazon | Barnes & Noble | GoodReads



Excerpt  from The Hunted by C.J. Hart

— Seb —

The night has begun to creep in. Spooky shadows and hooting owls. A chill shimmers up my spine. Humans have long locked themselves away in their houses. The rez isn’t a place you want to be out in after dark.
Good thing I’m not human.
I sprint into the forest, deep enough so no one can see me strip. When I reach the third fallen log, I stop. Kicking off my shoes, I crumple my shirt and jeans, stuffing them into the backpack and tugging the zipper closed. I cram it in a log.
The prickling of my skin intensifies as my hunger for flesh and blood grows, twisting and churning my stomach. Tugging at my muscles. I leap into the air. Hands and feet turn to paws, fingers and toes to claws. Fur spreads over my whole body, gray with circles of black on my back.
I raise my muzzle into the air and suck in a deep breath. Rust, salt, and sinew fill my nostrils. East. The lake. I pad towards it, silent and starving. Then it hits me. Like a brick wall shooting up, keeping me in my place. Staggering back as the scent of roses and coffee floods my airways, I shake my head to rid myself of the stench. Where’s it coming from? I must find out. I need to. It’s too mouthwatering to resist. I spin, sampling the air around me. West. I charge through the forest, paws crashing against leaves and bracken. I’m making too much noise. I’ve forgotten to care. Lost all rational thoughts.
I pass the invisible border dividing Aeston and Taylor.
A house appears at the edge of the trees, its exterior brown and gray. A blonde girl sits on the porch, candlelight sparking across her face. I freeze, claws digging into soil. She’s reading. The light breeze brings her scent to me. Coffee and roses. Such a sweet, decadent aroma. My mouth waters. She can’t be more than seventeen. I creep as close as I dare, curious. Her hazel eyes dart across the page. What’s she reading?
She doesn’t see me. I slink closer, leaning out of the trees.
A male voice cuts through the air. “Dinner’s ready.”
Her head snaps up. “Coming, Dad!” She marks her page, snuffs the candle flame, and then disappears inside.
I wait. Minutes or hours pass. A light in an upstairs room illuminates. The curtains close. Moments later, the curtains open and the light is extinguished.
I must see more. 





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About the Author:

Renée Shearer writes young adult fiction under the name of C.J. Hart. Renée is a full-time writer who lives in Sydney, Australia, with a crazy pooch named Abbey and a boisterous, somersaulting rescue budgie named Kaleb. Her days are spent living in her fictional worlds and consuming way too much caffeine. She has an (unhealthy?) obsession with all things cupcake- and coffee-related plus Kerouac and YA dystopia/fantasy books. Renée can often be found surrounded by books, marathoning crime shows and munching on vegan goodies, on Twitter (@Renee_Shearer), Pinterest, or dancing in a rainstorm.
Renée hopes to one day visit Rio and is currently learning Brazilian Portuguese.





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Clean Teen Publishing Links:

Giveaway Details:
There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:
  • A bookmark swag pack, winner’s choice of any Clean Teen Publishing eBook, and a $15 Amazon gift card.


Giveaway is International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway




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Keep being distracted by reading,
Urania