Thursday, October 31, 2013

Spotlight for book 6 of The Guardians

The Shoma

In order to reunite the Council and save both our world and theirs, the Guardians need to assemble three missing pieces of an ancient  relic called The Shoma. But their search is derailed by their love lives and entanglements. Surrounded by evil and under the threat of annihilation our lives depend on this one team. But with all the sex, scandal and secrets, who has time to save the world?

About Lola StVil


Lola was seven when she first came to this country from Port-au-Prince, Haiti. She attended Columbia College in Chicago, where her main focus was creative writing. In addition to plays, she also writes screenplays and short stories.

She has been commissioned to write for ABC, CBS and Princeton University. She won the NAACP award for her play "The Bones of Lesser Men". In addition to being nominated for LA Weekly awards. Her work has also received positive reviews from The LA Times, Variety and LA Weekly.

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Guardians Series:


Book 1: The Girl
The prophecy says I will fall in love with team leader and Angel, Marcus Cane. The prophecy also says that our love will cause his mission to fail and end the world. Whatever. This human is not worried. Why? Because I do not intend to fall in love with Marcus. The truth is I hate him. I hate his warm brown eyes with flecks of gold, his chiseled face and broad shoulders. I hate how over protective he is just because a few thousand demons are after me. In fact, I couldn't care less about Marcus or his perfect telekinetic girlfriend. And when I see him holding her, I don’t die a little inside…

Book 2: The Fallout
Just because she has wings, doesn’t mean she’s an Angel…
It's front page news on every Angel gossip rag:“Marcus & Ameana: Gone The Way Of “Brad & Jennifer.”So, Who Is The “Angelina?” Emmy Baxter—a mere mortal!” Ameana tries to avoid her ex and his new love by focusing on the other evil out to destroy the team. But soon her pain turns to fury. And before the end…a girl plots revenge, a leader is on the edge and an Angel falls.
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Book 3: The Turn
There. Will. Be. Blood. After the Council hands down a severe punishment, A Guardian declares war on the Angel world.
Before the end Lives will be lost Love will be tested And blood WILL flow...
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Book 4: The Triplex
The team finds the locaton of the Triplex, but in order to destroy it and save the world, a horrific decision must be made. Can Marcus do what he needs to do in order to complete the mission? Or will his heart get in the way...
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Book 5, Part 1: The Quo
WARNING: This book contains a scene in chapter 20 that is for mature audiences only. Readers can skip this chapter without missing any info vital to the plot. A team divided. A leader in turmoil. A love tested. Now, it's the heroes who need saving.
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Book 5, Part 2: The Lyris
The end of the world is not coming; it's here An impossible decision... A massive war... A Guardian silenced forever... (Please note chapters 29 & 30 are for mature audiences)
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Short Stories:
 (THIS BOOK HAS SPOILERS, SO IT IS BEST READ AFTER BOOK 1 (The Girl)) Please note this is a book of short stories about the Guardians and their lives before the mission. This book is 20k words long and has nine short stories including *Julian's Core *Rio's secret crush *Julian & Femi's first meeting *The days & nights of Tony-Tone and more...

Short Stories From Book 5
Can't get enough "Guardians?"
Read these short stories AFTER reading book 5 part 2 and find out:
Why Marcus made the decision he did at the end of book 5.2
How Jay and Miku hooked up for the first time
and where Mouse came from!

Spotlight for Waterproof

Waterproof Cover
Dying of thirst is the new reality.
Five years after the last drop of clean water disappeared, global societies collapsed and nuclear war shattered all hope of recovery. In a place now only a skeleton of its former self, survivors fight to avoid capture by the government. Forced to work in factories that produce the only drinking water available, those who go in, never come out. Zach and Vivienne have lived as deserters since they were teenagers. Fighting amongst their own and scrounging for the necessities of life, they’ve learned to rely on each other in every way. Yet when tragedy strikes and the true objectives of the government facility are revealed, their world is ripped apart. A fate once thought to hold their demise may be the sole answer to their survival. Who can they trust? Who can they believe? In this life, it pays to be waterproof. Disclaimer: Waterproof is a new adult dystopian with sex, violence, and language that may not be suitable for a younger audience.

Vivienne yelled out and I whipped my head around to see what happened. The last man standing held an impressive hunting knife in his hand, while Vivienne had a fresh cut on her arm. Still, she held steady, sword gripped tightly in front of her, legs in a fighting stance. Something stirred inside of me at the sight. Time slowed when I watched her wield the sword like an ancient warrior. It was hard to imagine that just a few years ago we were in high school worrying about football games and which party to go to on the weekend. Now we stayed in abandoned houses, scrounged for water, and spent most of our lives running. If things had been different, Vivienne and I would be graduating college this year. I had plans to go into medicine, and she wanted to be a vet. Funny how those dreams seemed so far away now. A loud thump echoed through the now darkened night. She almost fell to the ground with the amount of momentum needed to decapitate the man. He dropped to his knees like a sinner begging for mercy, head rolling further down the hill. My stomach fluttered with admiration and annoyance. “I didn’t need your help,” I said to her, getting up on my feet and trying not to wince at my injuries. “Sure,” she huffed. Ripping her bandana off her face she tore it in two. “Here, wrap that up.” She nodded toward the tear in my sleeve and I stubbornly yanked the cloth out of her hand. “I had everything under control,” I said between clenched teeth. It was the only way to mask the pain. “How did you know where to find me?” “I followed the girly shrieks,” she said without missing a beat. I looked down at her in time to see a smirk pull at the corner of her mouth. “Let me do it.” Once again, I allowed Vivienne to rescue me. It killed every part of that male ego inside, but I knew she’d let me do the same for her. In fact, I had. We always saved each other. “Ow,” I said when she tightened the bandana a little too rough around my arm. “Stop being a baby.” “Stop showing off your man strength.” She pulled even tighter but let a small laugh escape. I sucked in a breath at that sound, realizing how close I’d come to never hearing it again. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” she asked, turning me around and patting her hands along my body. I froze, trying to ignore how comforting her touch felt. We’d been friends for years, and she was the only person in this world I trusted. Why had I risked so much for this run? I stepped away from her, not liking where my thoughts were headed. “I’m fine,” I mumbled. “Stop mothering me.” “I wouldn’t have to if you’d listen to me.” She stopped in front of my face and stared me down. I stood a little over six feet tall and she was just a few inches shorter. Together with that glare, almost any man would cower under her. “Was it worth it?” “Huh?” “The water. How much did you get?” I hung my head in embarrassment. “I had eight, but they shot through one. So six, I guess.” “Six bottles?” She looked impressed. “No, six liters.” Silence. “You just made me kill three men for six liters of water?” I shuffled my feet. “You only killed two.” She reached out so quickly, I couldn’t defend myself. Both hands pushed against my chest and I stumbled back, falling to the ground. “I could make it three,” she hissed. “I should kill you for your stupidity alone.”
 About Amber Garr:
Amber Garr spends her days as a scientist and nights writing about other worlds. Born in Pennsylvania, she lives in Maryland with her husband and their furry kids. Her childhood imaginary friend was a witch, Halloween is sacred, and she is certain that she has a supernatural sense of smell. Amber is a multiple Royal Palm Literary Award winner, author of Waterproof, The Syrenka Series, The Leila Marx Novels, and the upcoming Death Warden Series. When not obsessing over the unknown, she can be found dancing, reading, or enjoying a good movie.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Makeover for The Winged Series by L.M. Pruitt

Well friends, we have some more exciting news! The best-selling Winged series from author L.M. Pruitt is getting a makeover as well as an exciting NEW addition. Each book will have all new covers. On top of all that Alliance is almost here. You all are getting a sneak peek at the next thrilling book in the series!
You can purchase her books here:
About The Series:
I fell from the Talmadge Bridge the week before I turned thirty. I was given a choice: Go to Heaven. Go back to my life in Savannah. Or spend eternity fighting evil under the direction of the archangels. I chose the demons--and the angels. I chose the Winged.
In the last year, Joanne Watson has died, fallen in love, fought demons and earned her Wings. None of that compares to what's coming next.... Life as a member of the Winged isn't perfect--or easy. There's always some new camp drama. There's always a demon ready for a fight. There's always death. And now there's the Resistance.Joanne must choose again, this time between her fellow Winged and their burning desire for change or the archangels and the eternal vow she made. Even in the afterlife, one truth remains--everything ends.
In the last year, Joanne Watson has survived repeated attempts on her life, wholesale slaughter, and the dissolution on the cornerstone of her new existence. And the hard times are only beginning. As the line between right and wrong, friend and foe, and good and evil continue to blur, Joanne is forced to face another irrefutable fact. The most dangerous demons to fight are the ones you can't see.

The last six months have seen more death and destruction than any could have predicted. And the war is only beginning. With the fight taking Joanne and her friends from city streets to abandoned farms to the center of the earth, only one thing is certain. The hunters are now the hunted.

ABOUT L.M. Pruitt
L.M. Pruitt has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. A native of Florida with a love of New Orleans, she has the uncanny ability to find humor in most things and would probably kill a plastic plant. She knows this because she's killed bamboo. Twice. She is the author of the Jude Magdalyn series, the Moon Rising series, and Taken: A Frankie Post Novel. Her current series, WINGED, is about the choice one woman makes after dying. The first four books in the series are available now. Ms. Pruitt is releasing the next book in the series, ALLIANCE, November 2013.
Author Photo   
L.M. Loves to hear from her readers ... Look her up on any of the following TWITTER FACBOOK  
Now what you've all been waiting for... the sneak peak at Alliance:
The Fallen have one goal--storm the gates of Heaven and reclaim their heritage.
The Winged have one mission--to prevent it all costs.
From North America to Africa, Europe to South American, the stage is being set for the final battle, the one to end all worlds, and with it comes an ugly truth.
Keep your friends close--and your enemies closer.


To Sign Up for the Blog Tour For Alliance, Please Fill Out the Form Below:

Alliance Blog Tour2

Monday, October 28, 2013

Spotlight for Dead Dreams


(Book 1)

By: Emma Right


YA for ages 13 AND UP Published AUG 2013


Book Summary

Eighteen-year-old Brie O’Mara has so much going for her: a loving family in the sidelines,  an heiress for a roommate, and dreams that might just come true. Big dreams--of going to acting school, finishing college and making a name for herself. She is about to be the envy of everyone she knew. What more could she hope for? Except her dreams are about to lead her down the road to nightmares. Nightmares that could turn into a deadly reality.

Dead Dreams, Book 1, a young adult psychological thriller and contemporary mystery.

Add Dead Dreams to your GOODREADS TBR list:

AMAZON BUY LINK: B00ESVEVBQ/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital- text&ie=UTF8&qid=1378078109&sr=1-3&keywords=DEAD+DREAMS

Music video/ book trailer for Dead Dreams set to Plumb's Need you Now:


Author Bio: 

Emma Right is a happy wife and homeschool mother of five living in the Pacific West Coast of the USA. Besides running a busy home, and looking after their five pets, which includes two cats, two bunnies and a Long-haired dachshund, she also writes stories for her children. When she doesn't have her nose in a book, she is telling her kids to get theirs in one.

Right worked as a copywriter for two major advertising agencies and won several awards, including the prestigious Clio Award for her ads, before she settled down to have children.[insert here]

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Sunday, October 27, 2013

Zombie, Incorporated

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“Newcomer Jill Elaine Hughes raises a fresh new voice in the zombie genre with a story filled with plenty of action, well-rounded characters and lots of shocks. Fun, fast-paced and highly entertaining. ZOMBIE, INCORPORATED rocks!” --Jonathan Maberry, New York Times bestselling author of FIRE & ASH and CODE ZERO

Twilight. With zombies.

Eighteen-year-old Katie Allred is socially awkward and unpopular at school. The only child of parents who had her right out of high school, Katie is herself about to leave the nest, even though she hardly feels ready.

Katie’s new after-school job at the Zimble Box Corporation draws her into the complex social strata of high school cliques and backstabbing friends in ways she never imagined. Katie soon discovers there’s something very strange about the “in” crowd at school---and about her employer, too. Shortly after starting her new job, the Contagion breaks out, plunging her town and the entire nation into chaos as zombie shadow forces come out into the open, ravaging the streets. Katie goes into hiding and her parents disappear, along with almost everyone else she knows.

But Katie soon discovers she has special powers that help her survive. She’s a Beacon, someone with the innate ability to help zombies produce children. It’s a power her employer — and what little remains of the U.S. government — both want to exploit for their own ends. Not only that, it runs in her family---which has a secret past Katie never knew about until now.

Enter Agent Morehouse of the FBI Special Zombie Control Unit. A reformed zombie working undercover, he suppresses his urge to eat human flesh in order to serve and save humanity. But Agent Morehouse can’t help but be attracted to a Beacon like Katie, and she to him. Even as they fight zombies the world over, they must fight their intense attraction to each other, hoping to keep Katie from suffering Agent Morehouse’s terrible zombie fate.


I guess if I really thought hard about it, Mom was right.  The zombie apocalypse was my fault.  Everything was my fault.  I’d ruined her life, and now she wanted me out of it. All the mean underhanded comments over the years, all the passive-aggressive decisions to spend money on herself instead of me, their decision not to plan for my future, all the not-so-subtle hints to get the hell out of her house and become somebody else’s problem----it all made perfect sense now.

I could take a hint.  I knew where I wasn’t wanted.  And somehow I figured I’d have a better chance of surviving the coming onslaught of the Undead if I was on my own.  Conventional wisdom says there’s safety in numbers, but I’d watched enough horror movies to know that sometimes it’s best to fly solo.

I went to the bookcase and dragged over a milk crate to stand on so I could reach the top shelf. I reached behind the main part of the bookcase to the secret compartment I knew was behind it, the same secret compartment where I’d hidden candy and comic books as part of a treasure hunt game I’d used to play alone as a little girl.  My fingertips felt around until they touched the smooth, cold gunmetal.  I wrapped my fingers around the pistol, pulled it out, inspected it.  It was a lot heavier than I’d expected, yet it still seemed small, too small to be something that could explode and kill someone----or something----in less than a second. The lines of Dad’s semiautomatic Glock were sleek, almost animal-like in their curvature. I didn’t know what I was doing, but on sheer instinct my finger pressed a tiny switch on the spine of the weapon and the chamber popped open, revealing a bullet.  I popped the chamber closed, pressed another switch and the clip fell out into my hand.  I inspected that, studied it, worked out in my head how its various components connected with various components inside the gun which, when the trigger was pulled, would result in a projectile issuing forth, then with a flick of my wrist pushed the clip back inside its slot, heard it click.

I knew next to nothing about guns or weaponry or ballistics, other than that I knew my father stored guns in the basement and I had always been forbidden to touch them. But despite that lifetime of ignorance it seemed as if merely holding the weapon in my hand transferred all the knowledge I needed about how or why to use it directly to my brain.  As if I had a natural (maybe even a supernatural) talent for it, or a gift as my grandmother would have said. I could see all the moving parts in my mind’s eye as if they’d been there all along.

I reached back into the secret compartment and felt around again until my fingertips touched dusty cardboard.  I grabbed and pulled and came out with a heavy box of magazine clips.  Three magazines, sixteen shells to a clip. I couldn’t do the arithmetic in my head, but I knew it was a lot of bullets.  A lot, but probably not enough.  I reached and grabbed and pulled once again, and retrieved two more boxes of magazines.  Lots and lots of bullets now.  I hoped I’d never have to use them, but just to hold them in my hand felt like a good life insurance policy.

I stood and turned my newfound possessions over and over in my hands, studying the switches and gears, memorizing where the safety was and mentally practicing how to disengage and re-engage it. I read the instructions and warnings on the sides of the magazine boxes, noted how they said that semiautomatic-loading weapons were illegal in many states, and the manufacturer had no liability for any physical or legal consequences for any injury or death resulting from improper (or proper? Since guns were for shooting, after all) use of its commercial products. I knew I was holding deadly force within the palm of my hands, and knew that should have scared me at least a little bit.

But it didn’t. It did the opposite.

Mom watched me do all of this without comment.  I made a point not to meet her eyes for a while, instead keeping my gaze on the gun and the shell magazines. The basement air thickened between us. The ticking sound of the air conditioner as the blower switched on automatically on the other side of the wall seemed way too loud.  We both waited for the other to speak, or at least meet a gaze. But neither of us did, and for far too long a time.
Finally, Mom broke the silence. “It’s been way more than ten minutes, and your father isn’t back yet. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.”
 “I think you should go up there after him, Katie. Take the gun with you.

I forced myself to meet Mom’s eyes.  I saw a lifetime of disappointment behind her tinted glasses and blue-black mascara.

“You’re in a real hurry to get rid of me, aren’t you Mom?” I asked. My tone was cold, deadpan.  I was through with all the bullshit.  I just wanted my mom to tell the truth about me for once.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Admit it. You’ve been trying to get rid of me for years.  Makes me wonder why you didn’t just get rid of me before I was born and saved yourself the trouble.”

All the color drained from Mom’s face.  “How dare you speak like that to me!”

“How dare you say straight to my face that you didn’t want me, that you never wanted me, and that I basically ruined your and Dad’s lives!” I shrieked. “Because that’s basically what you just said.”

Mom took off her glasses, pressed her palms flat against her eye sockets and choked down a sob.  “Katie, you’re reading way too much into this.  Your father and I----we made a lot of sacrifices for you.  Most people who became parents as young as we did would never have done even a tenth of what we’ve done for you.  You should be grateful.  And I think it’s high time your father and I had some time to ourselves now that we gave up so much to raise you. Except----“

“Except now you can’t. Because of the stupid zombies.  Which I suppose are all my fault too, just like everything else is.”

Mom slumped down onto a stack of milk crates. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

We stared each other down for a minute or two, Mom always keeping a nervous eye on the gun.  For a split second I actually considered shooting her with it, but dismissed the idea as insane.  Plenty of teens my age think they hate their mothers, but they really don’t. It’s just a phase all young women go through.  The more I thought about it though, I didn’t hate my mother.  I honestly didn’t feel anything for her.  I was as indifferent to her now as I was to a lump of coal.  And that was far worse that hate.  After all, in order to hate someone, you have to love them first.  I wasn’t sure I ever loved Mom, and in that moment I doubted my mom ever loved me either.  Sending me off to face the zombies and my almost-certain death just proved my theory.

“So now you want me to save you from the zombies at the risk of my own life, huh?” I said, fingering the barrel of the gun in my hand. “Sort of kills two birds with one stone, doesn’t it?”

Mom’s face crumpled in horror. “I want you to go find your father!”

“Find him yourself.”

I turned on my heel and dashed up the creaky stairs, skipping the rotten ones at the bottom.  I was still missing one shoe.

I headed up to my room and packed a knapsack with one hand. Clothes, shoes, and random toiletries landed in the bag at random as I kept the gun, cocked and ready to fire, out at an angle and sweeping the air, ready for whoever and whatever might appear.

About the author: