I hope you're back to be distracted with me a little more.
Did I say little? :)
Ready for a Fantasy MARATHON?
Enjoy!
Did I say little? :)
Ready for a Fantasy MARATHON?
Enjoy!
Let's start with Finding Eve...
Title: Finding Eve
Author: Rita Bay
Published: September 2013
Publisher: Champagne Book Group
Word Count: 13,500
Genre: Shape-shifter Paranormal
Content Warning: Adult content
Recommended Age: 18+
Synopsis:
Nicholas Lyons, chief physician to the Lyons clan of shape-shifters, has mourned the death of his promised lifemate until a rogue shapeshifter reports having seen her at an exotic animal sale. Accompanied by Marie Lyons who is no stranger to the dark side, her new lifemate Anthony, and the imperious Lady Bat, he embarks on a frantic search for Eve through the dangerous world of exotic animal trafficking.
Eve, whose first memories are of recovering from an injury at an isolated animal refuge, has lived through a succession of owners in a world filled with cages and cruelty. When Eve meets Marie at the exotic animal sale, she begins to have flashes of a different life – a life in which she was something other than feline. Her last sale, however, has landed her as prey to exotic animal hunters and the clock is ticking.
About the Author:
Rita’s journey began on the Gulf Coast. Over the years, she lived and/or traveled in the eastern US and Western Europe. While juggling family and work, she participated in archaeological digs, earned a black belt in Shotokan karate, prospected for gold and crystals, camped across Europe, and volunteered with the American Red Cross Disaster and Education Services. Rita has worked as a registered nurse, educator and school system administrator. She lives with her family on the Gulf Coast, except when she’s in Atlanta, at least for now.
Rita is published in multiple genres with several publishers including paranormal and erotic novellas (Champagne Book Group – Champagne Books and Carnal Passions), historical novels (Siren BookStrand), and contemporary F/M and M/M novellas (Secret Cravings). She posts random bits of historical trivia about western history and culture on Rita Bay’s Blog at ritabay.com.
Excerpt from Finding
Eve by Rita Bay
Nick tamped down his panic. Eve’s
neurological tests, scans, X-rays and vital signs were all within normal
limits, but his lifemate had remained unconscious for over twenty-four hours.
“Tell me what happened again.”
Marie sat with her head in her hands. She’d not left Eve’s side since her call after Eve’s collapse had alerted Anthony that something was very wrong.
“We’d talked it out after you left. She was ready to make the change--had even picked out the dress she wanted to wear after she shifted. We were touching so she could feel what I was doing. She made the shift quickly. No problem. Then she just fell over. Like I said a dozen times before.”
“She’d never expressed interest in shifting before. You sure you didn’t push her?”
“No, damn it, I didn’t. She heard what you said about leavingLyons
He wanted to kick himself. Eve was sensitive, fragile even, since she’d returned. The last thing he should have mentioned was leavingLyons
“Quiet, Nicky. I was sleeping.”
“Evie?”
“Who else runs free in your head?”
“You’ve been unconscious for more than a day.”
“Been sleeping. Change hurt.”
“I told Marie she shouldn’t have allowed you to change.”
“Afraid you and Tony send me away. Marie gave me shiny dress.”
“You always were an acquisitive kit. I will give you whatever clothing you wish.”
“Wanted Marie’s dress. She is like me. She knows.”
“What does Marie know that I don’t?”
“Hurt. Fear. Alone.”
“I want that part of your past to go away. Since I thought you were dead, I felt the pain. Alone was the worst. I want things how they were with us before.”
“Can’t. Not yet. Can’t speak in my human form. Don’t know why.”
“What can I do to make it better, Evie?”
“Find my past.”
“Tell me what happened again.”
Marie sat with her head in her hands. She’d not left Eve’s side since her call after Eve’s collapse had alerted Anthony that something was very wrong.
“We’d talked it out after you left. She was ready to make the change--had even picked out the dress she wanted to wear after she shifted. We were touching so she could feel what I was doing. She made the shift quickly. No problem. Then she just fell over. Like I said a dozen times before.”
“She’d never expressed interest in shifting before. You sure you didn’t push her?”
“No, damn it, I didn’t. She heard what you said about leaving
He wanted to kick himself. Eve was sensitive, fragile even, since she’d returned. The last thing he should have mentioned was leaving
“Quiet, Nicky. I was sleeping.”
“Evie?”
“Who else runs free in your head?”
“You’ve been unconscious for more than a day.”
“Been sleeping. Change hurt.”
“I told Marie she shouldn’t have allowed you to change.”
“Afraid you and Tony send me away. Marie gave me shiny dress.”
“You always were an acquisitive kit. I will give you whatever clothing you wish.”
“Wanted Marie’s dress. She is like me. She knows.”
“What does Marie know that I don’t?”
“Hurt. Fear. Alone.”
“I want that part of your past to go away. Since I thought you were dead, I felt the pain. Alone was the worst. I want things how they were with us before.”
“Can’t. Not yet. Can’t speak in my human form. Don’t know why.”
“What can I do to make it better, Evie?”
“Find my past.”
And now... here's The Pact...
Title: The Pact
Author: Graeme Brown
Published: May 2013
Publisher: Champagne Book Group
Word Count: 17,000
Genre: Dark Epic Fantasy
Recommended Age: 12+
Synopsis:
Enter the world of Will Lesterall, a boy who’s grown up in the safety of his father’s castle.
Tales of the outside world ruled by warring kings and creatures of nightmare have never seemed a threat, yet on the night celebrating two hundred years of the sacred Pact that has kept Fort Lesterall safe, intrigues ripen, and in the course of a few hours Will is confronted with a choice greater than he can comprehend.
Join an unlikely hero as destiny pulls him into the middle of an ancient conflict between fallen gods and ambitious women, one that demands blood, both holy and wicked, and the power of an ancient fire bound in steel. As swords clash below a watching wood, hope and betrayal war as fiercely as fear and valor.
Whether he lives or dies, Will Lesterall will never be the same.
About the Author:
Graeme Brown has been enchanted by the epic fantasy genre since he was a child, and consequently he started creating his own world with its stories at the age of thirteen. Influenced by writers like J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert Jordan, and George R. R. Martin, he has finally brought the first of those stories to life with his debut title, a short story called The Pact—48 pages that will whisk you away to a dark, medieval fantasy world with gritty realism. When he’s not writing, he can be found exploring number theory problems or writing computer programs, training for a marathon, or unwinding in a yoga hot room. He has also explored other facets of art, both as a hobby and a profession, including vector graphics, pen and ink, classical piano, and web design. He just finished writing the first of many sequels to The Pact, A Thousand Roads.
Excerpt from The
Pact by Graeme Brown:
Will felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Lie down,” the woman cooed.
The blade glowed like the moon through its sheen of blood and Will obeyed slowly, feeling the stone’s icy kiss against the back of his neck. He cursed himself in his mind, but the voice had no power. That was your only chance. You’re dead now. There’s no stopping her.
He still shook with grief, his whole body cold. He saw Robin and the fear in his brother’s eyes. The pain. Will wanted to run, but his body wouldn’t move. Finally, he closed his eyes, whimpering, folding up his legs and turning on his side.
He waited and waited, but the moment didn’t come. He waited more, before finally summoning the courage to open his eyes...
“Lie down,” the woman cooed.
The blade glowed like the moon through its sheen of blood and Will obeyed slowly, feeling the stone’s icy kiss against the back of his neck. He cursed himself in his mind, but the voice had no power. That was your only chance. You’re dead now. There’s no stopping her.
He still shook with grief, his whole body cold. He saw Robin and the fear in his brother’s eyes. The pain. Will wanted to run, but his body wouldn’t move. Finally, he closed his eyes, whimpering, folding up his legs and turning on his side.
He waited and waited, but the moment didn’t come. He waited more, before finally summoning the courage to open his eyes...
Ready for more? Let me take you to the Tower of Obsidian
Title: Tower of Obsidian
Author: L. T. Getty
Published: February 2013
Publisher: Champagne Book Group
Word Count: 115,000
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Content Warning: Minor Violence
Recommended Age: 13+
Synopsis:
When Kale mac Tadhg is betrayed by his Lord’s men, he is sent on an impossible quest: slay a witch in a tower, and end a people’s curse. Both Kale’s best friend and brother-in-arms Aaron Smithson and former betrothed Aoife of Westgate set out to rescue him, but their journey takes them into the uncharted waters and Northwestern Nordic colonies, to a land cursed and all but forgotten. They begin to realize that there is some truth to old legends. Kale’s rescue comes at a price—for by the time Aaron and Aoife know where to search, like so many before him, Kale is bound to the ancient tower’s fate.
About the Author:
L.T. Getty started writing her first novel in junior high, and hasn’t really stopped since. She’s studied kendo, is an open water scuba diver, and has recently taken up archery, and hopes to learn to do it horseback some day. When she’s not writing, she works as a paramedic. When she is writing, it tends to be rather cheeky.
Excerpt from Tower
of Obsidian by L.T. Getty:
You know how the tale is supposed to go.
The maiden is seized, captured by some foul villain. The hero gives chase,
defeats the villain, and rescues her. The maid and hero wed and live happily
ever after. But suppose it doesn’t go like that. No doubt there have been
countless stories of maidens taken by villains. Some are rescued, others are
killed, and however tragic their stories, they are ended.
What if one of these maidens lingered in darkness, with puzzles unsolved, her dragons unslain?
She was stolen, like so many before her and many who came after. Was she a goddess, a nymph, or a common girl of great beauty? It matters little. He seized her and forced her into a dark tower, which even the gods could not destroy. Oh how they tried, sending their sons to battle him. All failed.
The wicked sorcerer enticed her, tried to trick and confuse her, but she would never submit. In rage, or perhaps when it seemed the tide was turning, and perhaps her true love finally came, the sorcerer, rather than lose her, cursed her. He locked her in a prison, and she and the tower became one.
At last, the sorcerer was destroyed, but not sent forth to the land of the dead, or chance his evil would survive the grave. Undying, he remained a fragmented wraith, a wicked creature, the villain in countless stories. Perhaps, that was why his defeat did not undo her curse, for she remained a prisoner in the dark spire.
Her would-be hero, defeated at the end, died of a broken heart. The lands around the tower grew dark, as if the world itself knew the tale was too sad. Surely, she was worth rescuing? Surely, there was another who could save her?
Imagine then, if you were she: your beauty, your curse, and your true love stolen from you. Imagine your father playing one suitor off another. All the while, the other women despise you. Imagine being changed—much like how a god would turn a nymph into a cow, a goddess into the body of a mortal. Confined to a prison, and even if it were the finest castle in all the lands, heaven, earth, or the underworld, still a cage. All the while, you wait for a rescue which never comes. The spell will not allow you to die nor to grow old. You are stagnant in a world where stories of old become legends, and legends forgotten—dismissed as childish fancy.
No, child, surely you do not wish to know that story. Maidens must be rescued, the good endure, and evil smote. Even though you know what is true or fair is not so in your life, you expect nothing else in your story. It is how the story is supposed to go. You will accept nothing but a proper ending. Content yourself then with stories of long hair and spinning wheels.
What if one of these maidens lingered in darkness, with puzzles unsolved, her dragons unslain?
She was stolen, like so many before her and many who came after. Was she a goddess, a nymph, or a common girl of great beauty? It matters little. He seized her and forced her into a dark tower, which even the gods could not destroy. Oh how they tried, sending their sons to battle him. All failed.
The wicked sorcerer enticed her, tried to trick and confuse her, but she would never submit. In rage, or perhaps when it seemed the tide was turning, and perhaps her true love finally came, the sorcerer, rather than lose her, cursed her. He locked her in a prison, and she and the tower became one.
At last, the sorcerer was destroyed, but not sent forth to the land of the dead, or chance his evil would survive the grave. Undying, he remained a fragmented wraith, a wicked creature, the villain in countless stories. Perhaps, that was why his defeat did not undo her curse, for she remained a prisoner in the dark spire.
Her would-be hero, defeated at the end, died of a broken heart. The lands around the tower grew dark, as if the world itself knew the tale was too sad. Surely, she was worth rescuing? Surely, there was another who could save her?
Imagine then, if you were she: your beauty, your curse, and your true love stolen from you. Imagine your father playing one suitor off another. All the while, the other women despise you. Imagine being changed—much like how a god would turn a nymph into a cow, a goddess into the body of a mortal. Confined to a prison, and even if it were the finest castle in all the lands, heaven, earth, or the underworld, still a cage. All the while, you wait for a rescue which never comes. The spell will not allow you to die nor to grow old. You are stagnant in a world where stories of old become legends, and legends forgotten—dismissed as childish fancy.
No, child, surely you do not wish to know that story. Maidens must be rescued, the good endure, and evil smote. Even though you know what is true or fair is not so in your life, you expect nothing else in your story. It is how the story is supposed to go. You will accept nothing but a proper ending. Content yourself then with stories of long hair and spinning wheels.
Last but not least, The Queen’s Pawn...
Title: The Queen’s Pawn
Author: R. J. Hore
Published: April 2013
Publisher: Champagne Book Group
Word Count: 91,000
Genre: Medieval Fantasy
Recommended Age: 13+
Synopsis:
Young Harow just wanted to stay on the farm for the rest of his life, but his mother insisted he go to school in the City to study to be a priest. Now the City is in flames and he is racing across unfamiliar countryside trying to get the mysterious and sensuous Queen Reginee and her extremely annoying and very spoiled daughter Desiree-Rose to safety.
Of course there is a rebel army on their heels, black wizardry afoot, and sundry and dangerous creatures and villains, monstrous and common, seductive and evil, lurking along the way. If this were not enough for the youth to worry about, the Queen’s amorous chambermaid and bodyguard Mathilde, a smallish giantess, just wants to get him alone.
About the Author:
Ron can be found sailing on Lake Winnipeg when not writing novels or critiquing for an on-line magazine He won first prize for a Canadian Authors Association short story contest for a ghostly love story, but his preference is for longer works including a recent trio of medieval-style fantasies and the Housetrap Chronicles fantasy detective series through www.burstbooks.ca . Supervised by his understanding wife and a large demanding cat, most of his writing efforts continue toward fantasy, with occasional lapses into science fiction and horror.
Excerpt from The
Queen’s Pawn by R.J. Hore:
After a brief meeting with Daneld and his
lieutenants, Harow, armed with a short bow, and followed by another guardsman
so armed and a third carrying two spears, set off into the forest. He followed
the downhill slopes, careful to mark the patterns on the trees. Remembering
well the woods-lore taught by his grandfather, Harow did not wish to become
lost in this unfamiliar place so far from home.
The three followed a gentle ravine until they arrived at a quiet pool of dark water surrounded by high ferns, then waited, silent. After what seemed forever, with Harow wondering if they would have to return to camp empty handed before nightfall, two deer steeped out from beneath the ferns to drink.
He and his companion loosed their shafts and both animals fell. While the guards prepared the deer for carrying, he dug in the damp earth with his sword, filling his back-sack with edible tubers and roots he recognized from his days on the farm. Gathering up their treasures, the three returned to camp and a welcoming chorus from hungry men.
“Do you really expect me to eat dead animals?” Princess Desiree-Rose stamped her foot. “Mother, this is ridiculous.”
“Now, my dear.” The queen exited from their shelter and stood up, somehow able to still appear graceful and regal even though her cloak showed the stains and dirt of travel. “We must be prepared for a little discomfort, considering our circumstances.”
“I absolutely refuse. No bath, no clean clothes, no decent food... and nobody cares.” The princess suddenly burst into tears, and pushing her way through the assembly, dashed off.
The queen motioned for Mathilde to follow after the girl, and smiled wearily at Harow. “You must forgive my daughter, Lord Rickard. When you are young, and used to being kept sheltered and safe, this must all seem very different and terrifying. Desiree-Rose did not sleep very well last night. I’m certain tonight, in the marvelous shelter you have constructed for us, will be a great improvement.”
Harow bowed and backed away to see to the evening meal. Discovering that none of the guardsmen knew anything about carving a carcass, or cooking, he set about to demonstrate how to prepare the deer by skinning and cleaning them, how to construct a fire pit and spit and commence roasting and, after finding a large pot among their baggage, how to clean and peel the tubers and roots for a soup. At last, tired and not a little hungry, he gave instructions to the guards to watch over the meal and stood up slowly, uncramping tired legs. Dried blood covered his hands, dirt stained his face. He glanced at the sky. Still an hour or so of sunlight left. Time for a wee bit of a nap before supper.
A long wailing scream split the forest air. That sound did not come from any human throat.
The queen hurried up, looking distraught. “My lord duke, have you see Desiree-Rose or Mathilde? They have not returned.”
The scream wavered and faded, then grew again in volume and pitch, sending cold shivers dashing with chill fingers along the spines of all who heard the sound. The company scrambled to their feet and stared into the depths of the forest.
The three followed a gentle ravine until they arrived at a quiet pool of dark water surrounded by high ferns, then waited, silent. After what seemed forever, with Harow wondering if they would have to return to camp empty handed before nightfall, two deer steeped out from beneath the ferns to drink.
He and his companion loosed their shafts and both animals fell. While the guards prepared the deer for carrying, he dug in the damp earth with his sword, filling his back-sack with edible tubers and roots he recognized from his days on the farm. Gathering up their treasures, the three returned to camp and a welcoming chorus from hungry men.
“Do you really expect me to eat dead animals?” Princess Desiree-Rose stamped her foot. “Mother, this is ridiculous.”
“Now, my dear.” The queen exited from their shelter and stood up, somehow able to still appear graceful and regal even though her cloak showed the stains and dirt of travel. “We must be prepared for a little discomfort, considering our circumstances.”
“I absolutely refuse. No bath, no clean clothes, no decent food... and nobody cares.” The princess suddenly burst into tears, and pushing her way through the assembly, dashed off.
The queen motioned for Mathilde to follow after the girl, and smiled wearily at Harow. “You must forgive my daughter, Lord Rickard. When you are young, and used to being kept sheltered and safe, this must all seem very different and terrifying. Desiree-Rose did not sleep very well last night. I’m certain tonight, in the marvelous shelter you have constructed for us, will be a great improvement.”
Harow bowed and backed away to see to the evening meal. Discovering that none of the guardsmen knew anything about carving a carcass, or cooking, he set about to demonstrate how to prepare the deer by skinning and cleaning them, how to construct a fire pit and spit and commence roasting and, after finding a large pot among their baggage, how to clean and peel the tubers and roots for a soup. At last, tired and not a little hungry, he gave instructions to the guards to watch over the meal and stood up slowly, uncramping tired legs. Dried blood covered his hands, dirt stained his face. He glanced at the sky. Still an hour or so of sunlight left. Time for a wee bit of a nap before supper.
A long wailing scream split the forest air. That sound did not come from any human throat.
The queen hurried up, looking distraught. “My lord duke, have you see Desiree-Rose or Mathilde? They have not returned.”
The scream wavered and faded, then grew again in volume and pitch, sending cold shivers dashing with chill fingers along the spines of all who heard the sound. The company scrambled to their feet and stared into the depths of the forest.
Giveaway Details:
There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:
- GRAND PRIZE: One winner will receive 5 surprise fantasy eBooks from Champagne Book Group.
Giveaway is International.
Keep being distracted by reading,
Urania
Urania
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love to be distracted by your comments! So feel free to post your thoughts here.