The Resistance

 

About the Book

Title: Just Like The Bronte Sisters

Author: Laurel Osterkamp

Genre: Women’s Fiction

Sisters Skylar and Jo Beth adore skiing and they virtually share the same soul. After an accident, Jo Beth flees to Brazil, leaving Skylar behind in Colorado to obsessively read the Brontë sisters. While abroad, Jo Beth meets Mitch and her life takes some unexpected turns, until tragedy leads free-spirited Mitch right into Skylar’s empty arms. With their Heathcliff/Catherine romance in full swing, Skylar wants to trust Mitch, but did he harm her sister? Loving Mitch could make Skylar lose everything. Just Like the Brontë Sisters is an unconventional romantic page-turner inspired by Daphne du Maurier’s My Cousin Rachel, full of magical realism, literary references, a ghost, and some healthy doses of suspense.

 

 

Author Bio

Laurel Osterkamp is a Kindle Scout/award-winning author of women’s fiction and suspense. Her “day job” is as at Columbia Heights High School, where she teaches creative writing, college writing, and AP Lit. She resides in Minneapolis with her husband, two chatty children, an overweight cat, a gecko, and a hissing cockroach (don’t ask). Her other loves include chocolate, jogging, and boots.

 

Links

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Just-Brontë-Sisters-Laurel-Osterkamp-ebook/dp/B076Z4Y1T9

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorlaurelosterkamp

Website: http://laurel.pmibooks.com/

 

Book Excerpts

 

Excerpt #1

Later that evening I was still pumped. The dim lighting, soft classical music, and the glass of red wine didn’t mellow me out. Gavin stood over the stove, stirring his homemade marinara with a small wooden spoon and I pretended not to notice him watching me as I sat on a stool by the island in the kitchen, leafing through an Olympics brochure. I could feel the angry path of a scratch that started at my cheekbone and extended down to my jaw, but I refused to admit to any discomfort or pain. Doing so would invite in Gavin’s judgment and concern, and I knew I’d be ingesting them enough tonight as it was. They may as well have been ingredients in the spaghetti sauce.

I just talked as if his ears were receptive. “Billy pretended to be mad, but I think he secretly respected me. After practice today, he talked like there’s no doubt I’d be in the Olympics. And seriously, being suspended in the air like that… well, now I understand how people become adrenaline junkies.”

“I’m surprised you came out of the whole thing with only a scratch.”

“You sound like my dad.”

“Then I’ll try to be less protective,” Gavin gave me a twisty smile as he dipped the spoon into his sauce and came toward me. “Here, try this. See if it needs more garlic.”

Halfheartedly, I let him feed me a small amount. We made flat eye contact and I shrugged. “I think you could go either way. I mean, it’s fine, but is there such a thing as too much garlic?”

“I don’t know.” He raised an eyebrow. “I guess that depends; are you letting me sleep in your bed tonight?”

My eyes awkwardly glanced away from him and settled back on my Olympics brochure, which had a picture of a triumphant Bode Miller on the front.

“How long before dinner?” I kept my voice intentionally light, like I hadn’t registered what he’d just said. “I might go downstairs and stretch. I still have a leg cramp.”

“I can rub it for you later.”

I leaned down and massaged my calf muscle. “Thanks, but I still want to stretch.”

I glanced up to see Gavin’s smile fade as he stepped away, walked back toward the stove, and spoke with his back to me. “I think we should talk.” Ominous words if there ever were any. I stood without going anywhere, as if our situation required formality. “Did you hear what I said?” Gavin said. “About talking?”

His urgency, his obvious desperation, propelled words out of my mouth before I could trap them. “Can’t you just be the guy for once?”

He dropped his spoon against the stove with a clang. “What? I’m not manly enough for you? I stay home in the kitchen while you go flying off a mountain, like you’re trying to be your sister or something...”

“Wait.” My defensiveness was instant and hot, a rash underneath my skin. “I do something spontaneous, something strong, and you think I’m just imitating Jo Beth?”

“Skiing past the safety barricades and off a cliff isn’t strong, it’s reckless, and it’s not like you.”

“Oh really? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“Maybe I don’t,” he responded, “but it’s not for lack of trying.”

For a long, tense moment, Gavin stared at me, as if willing me to answer. I shifted my weight and looked toward the stairs to the basement, where I longed to escape from this conversation.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” I finally said.

“It’s simple,” he replied. “I want you to be safe. I want you to stay here in Black Diamond, and I want you to admit to me, to yourself, and to everyone else, that you and I are actually a couple.”

My answer was spineless. “I don’t know if I can do all that.”

Gavin’s face softened, maybe because he was as unprepared for my sudden vulnerability as I was. “Which part don’t you think you can do?”

I could barely squeak out my response, for fear that it would hurt us both. “All of it.”

Gavin nodded as if we’d just completed a business transaction. His shoulders rose and tensed as he turned off the stove with a flick. “I’m going. Just boil some noodles, then pour the sauce over them. It will taste good.”

I gave Gavin a reticent smile meant to beg forgiveness, but he wouldn’t look at me. “No, no,” I said. “Stay. Please, I want you to.”

He walked out of the kitchen, past me, and towards the front door. I followed and watched as he removed his wool coat from a hook and bundled up. My hands twitched from wanting to touch him, to soothe his anger, but my fingers were too timid to follow through.

He was clearly fuming. “Be honest, Sky. You’d rather have the night to yourself.”

I pictured the evening ahead of me, should he leave. It would start with a cold blast of air as he opened the door, a slamming sound as he walked away, and then the emptiness and guilt as I poured his marinara sauce into the sink, a blood red stream trickling down the drain because I couldn’t stomach eating his dinner without him. “That’s not true,” I said, trying to keep my voice close. “I just don’t get why we have to turn into something serious, into something that we’re not.”

“Because I’m tired of being ‘that guy’—the one you kill time with when you have nothing else to do.”

I felt my face heat up “I admit that I’m anxious to get out of here and into the Olympics. But my restlessness isn’t about you. I’m just sick of waiting for something to happen. You’re still my favorite person to spend time with.”

He paused, hand on the doorknob. I could see how he wanted to leave, how he wanted to stay even more. “Please don’t go,” I continued. “That sauce you made is delicious, and you don’t have to add any more garlic. That way our breath won’t stink too bad—you know, later on.”

I stepped in closer to him and put my hand on the back of his neck. He relaxed under my touch.

“Fine, okay.” Gavin whispered as he removed his jacket and we walked back into the kitchen together.

Later, I was in the bathroom, gargling with mouthwash. Green foam oozed down my chin and I used the sleeve of my oversized ski team jersey, which I wore as a nightshirt, to wipe it away. As I spat out the rest of the mouthwash I met my own eyes in the mirror.

Was that hesitation or fear lodged on my face?

I spat again, cupped my hand over my mouth, and breathed in and out through my nose, checking for signs of bad breath. There had been a lot of garlic in Gavin’s sauce. But I was satisfied that I passed the halitosis test, so I fished in the drawer, digging past hair brushes, tweezers, and a bottle of ADVIL to finally find an unopened box of condoms, which I had previously shoved into the very back, out of sight.

Briefly I studied the box that I bought months ago as a precautionary measure. I ripped open the blue and gold packaging, which read Trojan Ultra-Thin Pleasure Pack, and clumsily pulled one out. How could this shiny silver square, which looked like it contained candy, make me so nervous? Skiing off a cliff was nothing compared to this. I wrapped my fingers around the bright foil package, making a fist, so I didn’t have to see evidence of what I was about to do. I told myself that losing my virginity didn’t make me Becky Sharp of Vanity Fair and that becoming a sexual person didn’t turn me into an anti-heroine. I would instead be like Jo March, sleeping with her love, the professor, for the first time, somewhere off in the dusky void that existed away from well-lit pages underneath a reading lamp.

One more look in the mirror; this time it was a look of resolve. I studied the scratch on my cheek, made this afternoon by my ski pole when I’d landed in the snow, and lightly traced it down my cheek. “Gavin, I’m in the mood for more adventure,” I whispered to my reflection, rehearsing. I closed my eyes, shook my head in disgust, and then faced my reflection once again.

“Let’s take a chance tonight, okay?”

I gave my reflection the most provocative expression I could muster. My shoulders moved up and down, and then I walked out of the bathroom, determined to fly, not fall, off the cliff that I was launching myself from.

 

 

Excerpt #2

Mitch used tweezers to not-so-gently remove all the glass from Jo Beth’s skin. They sat in the bathroom, her atop the toilet with its lid down, and Mitch on the floor, his back leaning against the edge of the tub as he picked out the glass piece by piece, shard by shard, dropping each one into the wastebasket.

Occasionally he’d look up and his wide, dark eyes pooled with distress.

Jo Beth couldn’t keep silent. “Mitch, I swear that she started it. Magda hit me with that spoon and then she cut herself to make it seem like it was my fault.”

Mitch’s chest heaved up and down. He kept his eyes on her knees. “Jo Beth, you have to stop.”

“But I’m telling the truth.”

“Jo Beth!” His inhale was sharp, like he’d just been hit. “Once the baby is born, we’ll leave. I don’t care where we go, but we’ll figure something out. Until then, you have to keep it together.”

“She’s still in love with you, Mitch.” Jo Beth could say this as loud as she wanted because Magda was out, having taken herself to the emergency room after Mitch said that her cut probably needed stitches.

Mitch vehemently shook his head. “No. It’s not like that. She dumped me.”

“Wait, what?” Jo Beth felt her brain synapses coil tightly in confusion. “I thought you said that your breakup was mutual.”

He dug the tweezers into the base of her ankle, right where some glass was lodged. Suddenly Jo Beth felt like he was playing that board game, Operation, and she was as real to him as the clownish cartoon character who needs gas bubbles removed from his stomach.

“No,” Mitch replied. “She decided it was time, after I lost my ability to see through the blood-red cloud that surrounds her. That’s what happened.”

“Ouch!” Jo Beth yanked her foot away. His excavation attempts were just too vigorous. “What are you talking about? What blood-red cloud?”

Mitch grabbed her foot back and held it tight as he mined for more glass. “The one that surrounds Magda?” His tone was condescending and impatient, almost as bad as his nursing skills. “Don’t tell me you don’t see it.”

“Mitch…”

He wouldn’t look at her but stayed focused on his task.

“Mitch, you’re honestly telling me that a blood-red cloud hovers around Magda?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I realize that not everyone can see it, but I can. I’ve always been able to see things that other people can’t. My ability is more a curse than a blessing.”

The pressure behind Jo Beth’s eyes was uncomfortable, just like the pricking of Mitch’s tweezers. Could he possibly be for real? “Why haven’t you ever mentioned this before?”

“Magda wanted it to be our secret,” he said simply. “But things changed, she broke up with me, and it was fine. There was no tidal wave, no crisis, she didn’t disappear, and we stayed friends.” Mitch finally dislodged the last pieces of glass and after depositing them in the trash can, he dropped the tweezers like he was dropping a microphone. “And I love you, Jo. But you have to stop acting so crazy.”

She had to stop acting so crazy? Jo Beth just nodded and gripped the edges of the toilet beneath her. How could one little statement from this man change everything?

she kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.”

Jo Beth went to bed and lay there until she heard Magda come in, and then there was the sound of their voices speaking in low, romantic tones. Were they kissing? Had they been intimate with each other this entire time? She was surprised to realize that she didn’t even care. But when Jo Beth was sure they were too consumed with each other’s company to worry about her, she got out her cell phone, hid under the covers so her voice would be muffled, and called Skylar. It was the middle of the night where she was, so Jo Beth thought for sure she’d answer, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Sky,” Jo Beth whispered. “You have to believe me because Mom doesn’t. Magda and Mitch have charmed her into believing that they’re innocent. But I know the truth. Magda is an evil bitch and Mitch is crazy.” She took a deep breath, trying not to feel claustrophobic underneath the covers. “I’m actually sort of relieved,” she continued. “Maybe Mitch actually does love me. Maybe’s it’s not his fault that he’s insane. I don’t know how long he’s been like this, maybe his whole life, but it explains everything. It explains why I can’t trust him.” She tried to keep her tears out of her voice. She had to stay strong. “Skylar, where are you? Why didn’t you come? I have to get myself and my baby away from Mitch. Once she’s born I’m going to leave and I’ll need your help. Promise that you’ll help me.” She took a deep sniff. “We need to talk in person. I don’t know how that will happen, but just know that I love you. You’re my favorite and I love you best of all.”

She pressed end, emerged from the covers, and sat up. Then she reached under the bed and removed the knife she’d kept beneath the mattress for over two weeks. Jo Beth gripped it in her sweaty hand, wondering if she was capable of murder, or if her subconscious just liked to pretend. Hell. She was pretty sure she was capable. The bigger question was whether she was up for the effort that murder required. Exhaustion slowly dripped through her, turning her muscles and mind to slush. She must have fallen asleep with the knife still in her grip, because after what seemed like hours, she woke to Mitch’s face looming above hers.

“Why are you holding a knife?” His voice was sharp, like the blade she clutched.

“Huh?”

He took the knife from her and her breath caught. If he wanted to kill her, right here, right now, there was no stopping him. “Are you afraid of me, Jo Beth?”

She pushed him away and struggled into a sitting position. “No, Mitch. I’m not afraid of you. But I think we should break up.”

“What?”

“As soon as I have the baby I’m going home with my mom.”

Mitch closed his eyes and fell back against the bed. “You can’t do that,” he whispered.

She took the knife from his hand and he let it go without protest. “Yeah, I can.”

His eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “So much water,” he said, holding out his palms as if to catch a nonexistent flood. “Like the roof is crying.”

“Mitch…” She placed her hand on his shoulder. He sat up abruptly and swiped back the knife. “Why can’t we just be okay? Is that too much to ask?”

Suddenly Jo Beth was afraid, but not of Mitch. There was a flood, but it wasn’t coming from the roof. It came from between her legs. “Mitch!” she cried. “Stop being delusional. My water just broke.”

 

 

Excerpt #3

“She’s crying.”

“Huh?” I couldn’t orient myself or find my bearings as I woke in this foreign room to a foreign sound.

“Bijou is crying. You have to get her because I can’t.”

I fumbled around, patting my hands along the nightstand, trying to locate a lamp and switch it on. Finally, I gave up, got myself into sitting position, and put my feet on the floor. The trek to the nursery was short and lit by a nightlight, so that part was easy.

When I got there, I found Skylar standing on one leg over the bassinette, her crutches resting against the wall. She awkwardly leaned down in preparation for lifting Bijou up. Meanwhile, Bijou had switched from crying to angry screaming.

“Let me get her,” I said, and I handed Skylar her crutches so she could move out of the way. Then I picked up Bijou and held her, but that did nothing to stop her wailing.

“Do you think she’s hungry?” Skylar asked.

“Yeah.”

Skylar sat down in the rocking chair. “I can hold her while you go and prepare a bottle.”

“Okay.” I was unsure of the way down to the kitchen, and how I’d find the stuff to get a bottle ready once I was there. But I handed Skylar the baby and walked off like I knew what I was doing.

Actually, the kitchen was where I’d expected it to be, and when I flicked on the light there was Jo Beth, standing in the middle of the room like she’d been waiting for me.

“There’s the formula and the bottles,” she said, pointing to the counter where a bunch of baby stuff had been left out, probably by Elizabeth, so it could be found easily in the middle of the night. “Don’t forget to use warm water for the formula. Warm, but not hot.”

Was it possible to be this tired? I hadn’t slept on the plane and the hours before our trip were filled with life and death, but not with sleep. Every part of my body was heavy and it was incredible to imagine that I’d ever feel light again. “You woke me upstairs?” I said to Jo Beth.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Now are you going to make the bottle?”

I walked toward the counter where the baby stuff rested and I opened the can of formula. I let a sigh from deep inside escape while I dropped the milky white powder into the bottle.

“What’s your problem?” Jo Beth demanded.

“Nothing, I’m just tired.”

“So?” She floated over to my side and hovered next to me, her hands defiantly on her nonexistent hips. “Do you have any appreciation for the effort it took me to get here? I bet you don’t.”

“How could I?” I went to the sink, turned on the water, and stuck my finger into the stream of cold until it turned suitably warm. “I have no idea how you got here and I’m betting you’re not allowed to tell me.”

“You know I’ve never given a crap about rules. But you’re right; I can’t tell you because you wouldn’t get it.”

There was no arguing her point. If I couldn’t understand simple concepts, like how the universe could be created by a single burst of energy from a miniscule volume of space, or how it possibly rose like a phoenix from the dust of another, dearly departed universe, how could I ever comprehend Jo Beth’s existence or her journey to find Bijou and me?

“Okay,” I said simply.

Now it was Jo Beth’s turn to sigh, which she did as I tightened the lid onto the body of the bottle and shook it. Was she angry because I wasn’t arguing with her?

“Test the temperature on your wrist.” Jo Beth said.

“Why?”

“To make sure it’s not too hot.”

“But how hot is too hot?”

“It shouldn’t hurt.”

I looked at her; even as a ghost she was beautiful. “Can you feel pain anymore?”

Her eyelids pulled down for a moment, and then she silently shook her head no.

“But you can remember pain?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“I’m sorry if I contributed to your pain, Jo.”

She shook her head again. “Our daughter is crying. You should get upstairs.”

The bottle was ready, so I turned toward the stairs, toward the sound of little Bijou’s wails. But first I looked back at Jo Beth. “Will I see you again?”

She shrugged her ghostly shoulders. “Who knows?”

“What if I can’t live with that uncertainty?”

“You have too. Everyone does.”

I almost pointed out that she doesn’t have to live with uncertainty, that she doesn’t have to live with anything, not anymore. But I kept my mouth shut for fear of being insensitive and climbed the stairs to find Skylar rocking Bijou.

“I can take over,” I said.

“Okay.”

We did the awkward dance of switching places, which included our handing the baby back and forth while she retrieved her crutches, and at one point Skylar had to lean on my shoulder while I held Bijou. Skylar looked so much like a younger, less angry Jo Beth, and she even held the same soapy scent.

“Thank you,” I said. I wanted to tell Skylar to stay, to sit with me, to not leave me alone. But right before those pleas escaped my mouth, I bit my tongue and managed not to beg. I put the bottle in Bijou’s mouth and instantly her screams stopped. Then the only sound in the room came from her sucking that rubber nipple.

“You were hungry, huh little girl?” I rocked Bijou, feeling that pull of devotion that they say always happens to mothers, but not necessarily to fathers. This delicate, strong creature, with her paper-thin eyelids, silky hair, and strong grip around my index finger: I knew that if necessary, I’d kill for her.

I could live with any other uncertainty, but Bijou had to be okay.

 

 

About the Book

Title: The Matriarch Matrix

Author: Maxime Trencavel

Genre: Science Fiction, Adventure

The Matriarch Matrix – A speculative fiction novel of origins, faith, passion, and the pursuit of peace.

It was always his destiny to save her. It was always her destiny to die. The fate of the world hangs on their choices…

The past foretells her future…

What does it take to change a loving child of peace into an assassin for a dangerous and powerful oligarch? Zara Khatum knows. Once a fighter for her Kurdish people, the memory of the atrocities inflicted by her captors has Zara seeking one thing: vengeance. But the voices of the ancients call to Zara. In the past, in another life, she knew the secrets of the artifact…

Twelve thousand years ago…

She is Nanshe, revered matriarch of the family she led away from the monsters of the north. In the land that would one day mark the treacherous border between Turkey and Syria, she created the temples at Gobleki Tepe and founded a dynasty, heirs to a powerful object. For millennia, Nanshe’s descendants have passed down the legend of the artifact: “The object can save. But only a man and woman together can guide the salvation of others.”

Heirs to destiny…

By fate or destiny, Zara is thrown in with Peter Gollinger, a quirky Californian from the other side of the world and the other side of everything she believes. But he, too, is heeding the voices of his ancestors. Joined by Jean-Paul, a former Jesuit priest, these three people—from wildly different religions and cultures—must find a way to work together to solve a twelve thousand-year-old mystery of the powerful object that spawned a faith. The world teeters on the precipice of war. The outcome depends on them. And one of them is living a lie.

The Matriarch Matrix is a rich and deeply layered epic story – a spiritual odyssey with a heartbeat of an action adventure. It may make you think, ponder, reflect upon where we came from and where we are going. It blends our past with a speculative future of things that are not so far-fetched. It blends the drama, the comedy, the romance, the tragedy of three protagonists with different cultures, traditions, and beliefs – a Sufi woman, a Jesuit priest, and an alien origin believing atheist. Their journeys separately and together will be a test of their respective faiths and their inner search for personal and family redemption.

 

Author Bio

Maxime has been scribbling stories since grade school from adventure epics to morality plays. Blessed with living in multicultural pluralistic settings and having earned degrees in science and marketing, Maxime has worked in business and sports, traveling to countries across five continents and learning about cultures, traditions, and the importance of tolerance and understanding. Maxime’s debut novel was written and edited in different locations in Belgium, including the Turkish and Kurdish neighborhoods of Brussels, in South America, and on the two coasts of the United States.

Links

tailofthebird.com

https://www.facebook.com/MaximeTrencavel/

https://www.instagram.com/maximetrencavel/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17168784.Maxime_Trencavel

https://www.amazon.com/Maxime-Trencavel/

Get “The Matriarch Matrix” on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Matriarch-Matrix-Maxime-Trencavel-ebook/dp/B075R2DD4Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1506588760&sr=8-1&keywords=maxime+trencavel

Excerpts 

His eyes, once reddened, are now dark black. Not even his pupils showing. The giant man yells, “Zara, you know what you need to do. You know what happens to all who fail me, who deceive me. Kill Mei first, but make it a leg wound so Peter can see her die in agony in front of him. He needs to learn the price for deceit.”Aghast, Peter quivers. His lips want to cry out, but nothing comes out of his vocal chords. He looks to Jean-Paul. Another tall, imposing male who has the best chance of standing up to thismonster he has signed a contract with. But the former priest still has his eyes closed, seemingly in prayer. And from Peter’s point of view, these arehis last rites the priest is administering.He looks toZara. A woman distraught, in hesitation, indecision, in deep agony over the choices in front of her,seemingly in fear of the gun in her hand. He lifts Mei’shead and peers into her tear-ridden eyes. A deep,loving kiss on her forehead. And he says, “I would have loved to meet your mother.”To her surprise, he rises, helping hold her dress downas hebuttons the last open buttons. To Zara’s surprise, he steps over, respiration rate at max, and takes the gun from the box. Hands shaking, he hands it to her. “I love my family as much as you do. But I cannot be the reason for the suffering of your people.” And he stands in front of her, shaking, sniffling, eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable. He opens his eyes and says, “Pray for me. In case I’m wrong aboutour alien origins, then I’ll need someone to vouch for me with God.”Zara stares at the gun in her hand. She aims it between his eyes as he shakes uncontrollably. Those eyes. Those eyes. Her babies.Sasha will not get the satisfaction this time. This innocent boy from California is not the one who should die today. No more than Abram needed to die on Sasha’s yacht. It is time to make amends.Lowering her aim, she places the gun in his palm and wraps his fingers around it. As he stares at the instrument in his hand, she lifts the barrel to her heart and says, “Even, smooth trigger pull. It will be quick. I won’t suffer.”And there, Peter is frozen. As if he had been there for all of time. He quivers not. He quakes not. Only frozen. But he stares down the barrel into Zara’s well-covered breast. He mutters incomprehensibly.“Illyana.”

 

 

 

 

 

1. How did you find your love of writing?

 

Writing for me has always been my hobby. I’m one of those people who don’t really like firm endings. I like for stories to continue on forever. So I often find myself dreaming up scenarios of what happened after the credits roll or the last page is turned. Then sometimes those continuations evolve into new stories with new characters and new settings and become an entirely new world for me to immerse myself and my readers in.

 

2. Did you have any big influences from other authors or even family members?

 

I draw inspiration from a lot of places so it’s hard for me to give credit to any one person. I’ve garnered a lot of support over the years from my Mom and other family members. I give a lot of credit to my agent, Stephanie Hansen, for pushing me to get my work out there for people to read.

 

3. Your characters seem so lifelike, were they made from examples in your life?

 

My personality is the type that makes it easy for me to relate to and understand other people. This helps a lot during character development. I have a general idea of how my characters think and what their values are. The entire character gets flushed out during the writing process as they react to the situations I put them in. I never really know how things are going to go until they happen, sometimes it’s even a surprise to me. That’s what makes the writing process exciting for me!

 

4. Is there anything you want to say to your readers that you haven’t yet had a chance to say?

 

Please buy my book when it comes out on January 29th! I always appreciate hearing when people enjoy my writing so reviews are always appreciated! And thank you in advance for your support!

 

5. Is there anything in the works for you? More books?

 

Yes, Blood Awakening is the first of the Immortal Sleepers series for which I have a total of twelve books planned. I am currently working on book two in the series, Awakened in Flame. There is a preview for this story at the end of Blood Awakening so be sure to check it out!

 

 

 

About the Book

 

 

 

Title: Blood Awakening (The Immortal Sleepers)

 

Author: Miranda Nichols

 

Genre: Paranormal / Fantasy Romance

 

A war has been brewing in the shadows.

 

Kaelyn Hamblin never felt particularly extraordinary, growing up in a strong Irish household in the heart of Boston for most of her young life. Her humdrum routine remained markedly unchanged for longer than she cared to remember; until that day. The day when a beautiful stranger drifted into her hole-in-the-wall bookshop and changed her life forever.

 

Tyrian knew from the moment he locked eyes on her that she was the one. His one. The singular being within all of time and space that was made for him and him alone. His world was not one of niceties and pretty things; bringing her into it would be dangerous. But he would protect her. He had to. After all, it was foretold.

 

Worlds collide, marking the beginning of the end to an age long battle warring between the forces of darkness and light in the universe. The fate of all rests on the shoulders of a lone druid and her band of human hunters to quell the rising tide of evil threatening to overtake everything and plunge the connected realms into eternal darkness.

 

Author Bio

 

 

 

Miranda Nichols is an up and coming author in the paranormal romance genre. She’s a full-time student working towards her degree in creative writing. When she isn’t studying or helping the alternative fuel industry, you can find her on https://www.fictionpress.com/ or curled up with a steamy romance novel. She’s a loyal friend who’s not afraid to tell it like it is. Like the smell of fresh popcorn, her fantasy romances tempt you and keep you coming back for more.

 

Links

 

https://www.mirandanicholsauthor.com/

 

https://www.facebook.com/author.mirandanichols/

 

https://twitter.com/mnichols_author

 

https://www.metamorphosisliteraryagency.com/

I have read the book right before this one, and currently reading the first two books; I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEW BOOK!!!!

About the Book

Title: Noble Magic: The Chronicles of Eledon Book Four

Author: Joni Parker

Genre: Fantasy

Lady Alexin (Alex) battles a band of mortal wizards known as the Octagon, discovers the mysteries of the five legendary diamond eggs, and finally comes into her true powers gifted to her by her conquests and the gifts of her Titan ancestors. Tasked with the seemingly impossible, Alex must find a way to restore the entry points to Seaward Isle or see its inhabitants face certain destruction as the grid holding Eledon together threatens to fall apart.

 

Author Bio

Joni currently lives in Tucson, Arizona, but she was born in Chicago, lived in Japan, graduated high school in Phoenix, and got married in New Jersey. Not only was she married to a career Navy sailor, but she also completed 22 years of active duty service herself. She holds a bachelor’s degree in accounting, an MBA, and a Master of Military Arts and Sciences (MMAS) from the U.S. Army Command and General Staff College. After her husband passed away, she returned to the work in the Department of Homeland Security until she discovered her love of writing. She retired again and has written two series, “The Seaward Isle Saga,” a three-book series, and “The Chronicles of Eledon” with “Spell Breaker,” “The Blue Witch,” “Gossamer,” and “Noble Magic.”

 

 

 

Links

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ParkerJoni

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJoniParker

Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+JoniParker

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0747SFZLG/ref=pe_820620_248963730_em_1p_0_ti

 

 

Book Excerpts

From chapter 2:

A few minutes later, the Chamber Elf opened the door and led them inside. The members sat in large chairs around three sides of the room while the senior member, Lord Ashur, sat alone on one end—his long white hair dangled over his bright red robe. Alex and Prince Darin saluted and knelt before him.

“Rise, both of you. Prince Darin, I see you’re with the Keeper again. What’s this adventure? I sent the Keeper to check on the cottage, not to explore.” Lord Ashur leaned forward in his large chair and gazed with amusement from under his white, bushy eyebrows.

“I apologize for the interruption, my lord, but Lady Alexin arrived with an escort of a dozen rebels, now in our custody. Apparently, they were searching for some documents, but couldn’t find them. The Keeper did. And I’d like your permission to review them.”

“Keeper, show me these documents.”

Alex unrolled the scrolls, handing him one at a time. She smiled as she watched his eyebrows move up and down.

He passed them around to the other members. “How did you find them when the rebels couldn’t?”

“They were locked inside a vault in one of the bedrooms. I missed it the last time I was there. Not only did it have these scrolls, but it also had this.” She held up the black bag and pulled out the gold chest, handing it to him.

Lord Ashur gasped and stared at the beautiful chest. “What’s in here?”

“Open it.” Alex stepped back so Prince Darin could see.

He flipped the top open and pulled back the velvet cloth. “Oh my stars!” He picked up one of the large diamonds in his hand. It flashed rainbows on the ceiling and walls.

The members stared and gasped and gathered around his chair for a closer look.

“How many are there?” Lord Mesner stared at it, captivated by its beauty.

“Five.” Lord Ashur cocked his head to the side. “Could these be the legendary Diamond Eggs?”

“May I?” Lord Root asked. “I saw them before they were stolen and disappeared. I took my Elves to see them in Weston—they’re the Crystals of Life. Years ago, my uncle, Lord Dormus, brought them to Eledon from his visit to the Star Elves.” He slid off his chair and rambled over; his blue velvet robe dragged along the floor. Lord Root was the Pixie Elf representative on the Council and the newest permanent member. He wasn’t much taller than Alex’s knees.

 

Chapter 3:

Prince Darin bowed to Lord Ashur. “While I was waiting for the Keeper, one of my ship’s captains delivered an urgent report. As you know, every month, the Water Elves send supplies to Seaward Isle. Two weeks ago, two of my ships, the Rambler and the Crustacean, set sail for the island and were due to return four days ago, but they haven’t shown up yet. I’ve sent several ships out to check the entry points to Seaward Isle, but they can’t be found. I’d like the Mentors’ help.”

“Of course. The entry points are the only things holding Seaward Isle to Eledon.”

Lord Odin rose from his chair. “This could be a disaster, my lord. The Mentors must give it high priority. Seaward Isle must not detach from Eledon. It could fall into the mortal world and take us with it. It must be fixed. It can’t be overlooked any longer.”

Alex’s eyes grew wide. This was a real problem. Concerned, she glanced at her grandfather. His face was pale and he was sweating. But she also knew he was depending on her to find a solution. She didn’t have a clue.

Lord Ashur frowned. “I agree this is a problem. Members, rise as we call upon the Mentors.” He rose slowly from his chair and raised his hands. “Mentors, greetings. We call upon you to assist us.”

In the middle of the room, a small flame appeared above the white pedestal. It was slightly larger than a man’s hand and emitted no heat—this was how the Mentors manifested themselves to the Elves. A female voice came from the flame.

“Lord Ashur and members…”

With a roar, the small Mentors’ flame erupted into a large fireball, touching the ceiling. From the raging fire, a man’s ugly face appeared and his deep voice boomed. He spoke in the mortal language called the common tongue; few in the room understood what he said. Alex, Lord Odin, and Lord Root understood it because they’d lived on Seaward Isle with mortals; Lord Ashur waved his hand to translate the man’s words into Elf.

“Who killed Shinjan?” The man’s dark beady eyes glared out at them. He had a large crooked nose; his skin was pasty-white, and he had a mane of scraggly black hair. When he opened his mouth, long flames of fire flowed out like snakes. “Who killed Shinjan?”

 

Chapter 4:

Off the coast of southern France, a luxurious yacht, at least eighty feet long with large windows and open spaces for sunbathing, rocked gently on the sea. In the lounge, four men sat on a leather sofa, watching the television monitor mounted on the wall with a view of Nemesis in the Elfin chamber. As he delivered his ultimatum to the Elves, the men cheered and shook their fists at the screen. When he ended his threats and the large fireball occurred, they burst into applause. The screen went black.

A few moments later, Nemesis entered the room through a black curtain to a standing ovation. He bowed, then pulled up his jeans and slicked his stringy hair away from his face. “I think they got the message. Ecstasy, get this stuff off my face.”

Ecstasy clapped loudly and beamed with pride. “Of course, my darling. Sit down. I knew you could do it.” Ecstasy was a man dressed as a woman and threw his arms around Nemesis’ neck and planted a wet kiss on his lips. As he backed away, he waved his wand. “Abracadabra presto change-o! I just love doing your make-up. I love everything about you.”

Nemesis’ nose shrunk in size and his color returned to tan. His ugliness was diminished, but didn’t go away. “All right, already. Stop it! Now get a message off to the Dynasty Sisters. They need go in first and get the wand.”

Ecstasy closed his eyes and waved his hands over the crystal ball. He mumbled a spell under his breath and peered inside. He leaned back with a sigh. “Oh dear! The girls have gone on a meditation retreat to mourn their grandfather Shinjan and can’t be disturbed for the next month.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me about this? We did this for them. I told you to keep in touch with them.”

“I asked them yesterday and they said they were going to be here. I’m sorry.” Tears filled his eyes. “They lied to me…again.”

“Damn it! Don’t cry.” Nemesis rubbed his forehead. “All right. Someone else will go. Who wants to go in first?”

Silence.

 

Chapter 5:

Takura pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back on his nose and smiled. “John, Oliva, good to see you today. Very windy outside.”

Olivia ignored the fact that he didn’t call her by her correct name. For some reason, he’d never been able to. “I’ve never seen it this windy before, have you?” She rocked baby Will in her arms.

“No, never. There must be problem with entry points.”

“As a matter of fact, there is. One of the Elf supply ships just came back. Tulus, the ship’s captain, told me that he couldn’t find them. We were wondering if you knew what that meant.”

Takura’s eyes grew large and he gasped, shaking his head. “None of them?”

“That’s what he said.” Olivia sighed. “What does it mean?”

“It could mean danger for us. We could separate from Eledon and crash into Earth. Not good. Wind may be symptom of problem.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“How’s your research going?”

“Difficult to study. Maybe Tulus will help us. I must ask him.”

“What about that other research you were doing on the ‘bubble,’ the shell over the island that keeps us inside?”

“I show you.” He led them to a table in the warehouse and smiled like the Cheshire Cat. “What do you think?”

“What is it?” Olivia leaned closer to it as John spun one of the propellers.

“A drone. We put camera on it and fly it into bubble.”

“Really? When?”

“Yesterday. Rangor took us on barge and we went close to edge, but we stay far enough away not to get into currents. We fly drone into bubble and bring back video.” He typed a command on the computer and a picture of him appeared standing on the barge with a remote control in his hands. The drone flew away and the camera pointed at the bubble. At first, the sky and sea appeared normal, but as the drone approached the bubble, the camera lens fogged up. Suddenly, the lens cleared; the drone spun around several times and the picture turned to static. When the drone hit something metallic, it was thrown out and the lens fogged up again. Just as the lens cleared, it approached the barge and landed. The last image was a close-up of Takura’s jubilant face.

 

 

Chapter 6:

Once all of the presentations were completed, Lord Ashur called on Lord Hillen during the recess. “Lord Hillen, you mentioned that you have an interest in wizards and wizardry. Have you ever heard of an organization of wizards called the Octagon?”

“I’m fascinated by wizards, but I’ve never heard of this organization before. What do they do?”

“According to this wizard, eight of them formed a group called the Octagon.”

“There have been several organized groups of wizards in the past. Each time, they attempted to match their magical skills to complement each other, trying to make their group invincible. However, the problem is that they’re mortal beings and have short lives. In addition, petty jealousies have caused great turmoil. In many cases, the members killed each other in a fit of rage.”

The entire chamber grew silent as the members turned to listen.

“It appears as if we’re all curious, Lord Hillen,” Lord Odin said. “Now, can you tell us more about wizards? The one who visited us was named Nemesis.”

“Nemesis?” Lord Hillen rubbed his chin. “And why did he come here?”

“The Keeper was assigned a task by the Mentors to remove a beast held in a vial. The only way to remove it was for the Keeper to kill the wizard who created the spell. His name was Shinjan. She killed him and released the beast as the Mentors requested. Now, however, this Nemesis claims that this wizard’s death upset the balance in this Octagon, and he must avenge the death before replacing the wizard.”

“An odd rule.”

“Indeed.”

“I can only surmise that the death of one of the wizards created a vacuum that is tearing the group apart. The wizards of today lack both the skill and discipline of those from years past. Nemesis is a famous name for wizards, selected to show bravado and a tendency to violence. Apparently, someone wishes to continue that tradition. But I’m shocked to hear that the wizards came here to Eledon. We ran the last one out. What is the Keeper doing to stay safe?”

“The wizard is after me, my lord. I confessed to killing him since I was the one who told her how to reverse the curse.”