Archive for the ‘giveaway’ Category

Wanted  cover

Hunted by 9 international Intelligence Agencies for a terrorist atrocity he did not commit, hostage negotiator Danny Shanklin is now the world’s most WANT ED man, with a reward of $10,000,000 being offered for his capture dead or alive.

Trapped in a deadly race against the clock, as well as protecting his family, Danny’s got to track down the terrorists
who framed him. And stop them before they get their hands on 6 lethal smallpox formulations, any one of which could trigger a global pandemic, which would leave only 1 in 3 people alive.With just a 7 foot Ukrainian mercenary and a ruthless female assassin hell-bent on avenging her father’s death to help him, Danny soon finds himself being forced into becoming both predator and prey as he desperately tries to win the fight of his life.

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About the Author

Emlyn


EMLYN REES published his second a year later, and then co-wrote seven comedies with Josie Lloyd, including the Sunday Times bestseller Come Together. He is the commissioning editor of
British and American paperback crime fiction imprint, Exhibit A, and lives on, near and around Brighton beach. You can find out lots more about Emlyn at emlynrees.com, talk tunes with him at thisismyjam.com and natter on Twitter @EmlynReesWriter.

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Giveaway

5 individual promo codes for a free download
of the book for an entire tour. Winner must have access to
Bluefire Reader and have an Adobe account to receive free download.

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Wanted (2)tb

Splendor_3D

British hotelier Ian Gregson had it all – wealth, good looks, power, and a share in his family’s worldwide, multi-billion dollar luxury hotel chain. His very name was synonymous with sophistication and elegance, and any woman he wanted could be his with just a look. But the only woman he truly desired was strictly forbidden to him for too many reasons to count.

 Tessa Lockwood was young, beautiful, and lonely, despite the fact that she was a married woman. Her life had not been an easy one, and the extravagant world she caught glimpses of as an employee of the Gregson Hotel Group was far beyond anything she could ever dream of. She could no more imagine herself ensconced in that sort of luxurious lifestyle than she could attracting the attention of her handsome, debonair boss. Ian and Tessa secretly long for each other from afar, never daring to reveal their forbidden attraction to the other, until circumstances bring them together in a very unexpected way. And from that point on, nothing will stand in Ian’s way to finally make her his.

 AUTHOR’S NOTE – despite what you might be thinking at this point, there is NO cheating in this story – just an incredibly romantic hero who will make you swoon with the way in which he sweeps the heroine off her feet!

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About the Author

JanetNissensonphoto

Author Bio Janet is a lifelong resident of the San Francisco Bay Area, and currently resides on the northern California coast with her husband Steve and Golden Retriever Max. She worked for more than two decades in the financial services industry before turning her focus to producing running events. She is a former long-distance runner, current avid yoga practitioner, is addicted to Pinterest, likes to travel and read. She has been writing for more than three decades, with her first ebook Serendipity published in December 2013. Splendor is book two of six in the Inevitable series, each book a standalone with no cliffhangers.

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Book One

I killed a girl last night. I did it with my bare hands and an old piece of pipe I found lying next to the dumpster. But that’s not the part that got me. The part that scared me, the part I can’t seem to wrap my head around and still has me reeling, was that when she charged me, her body shifted – and then she was a wolf. All snapping teeth and extended claws. But by the time I stood over her lifeless body, she was a girl again. That’s about the time I went into shock… And that was the moment he showed up.

Now, all I can do is accept the truths that are staring me in the face. One, Werewolves do exist. And Two, I was born to kill them.

Excerpt

Up ahead, a movement caught my eye, pulling me out of my thoughts. I stopped short and felt my pulse jump at the unexpected company. I didn’t usually see anyone else in this part of the cut-through, but just past the next Dumpster, a girl with long blond hair and pointy-heeled boots stood in the center of the alley, shaking uncontrollably. I took a step towards her, wanting to help in some way, and then stopped again when I saw her face. She was glaring at me with a look of hatred so raw, it sent a shiver down my back.

“Um, are you okay?” I called out, still trying to understand why she was basically convulsing. Was she having a seizure? But she was managing to stay on her feet. Her gloved hands were balled into fists at her sides, and she was breathing heavily now. I tried again. “Do you need some help?” Something about the way she looked at me made my skin tingle. I shivered again.

“Help,” she repeated, through clenched teeth. “Right.” Her words dripped with sarcasm and unconcealed malice.

Then, before I could think of something to say to that, her shaking reached its crescendo and then she … exploded. There was really no other word for it. With a harsh ripping sound, her clothes disappeared, scattering into the air in tiny pieces. In the same second, her body seemed to waver and then morph, leaving in its place the largest wolf I’d ever seen. My jaw dropped. Was I crazy, or had that girl just turned into a giant dog?

I had a split second to stare at her before she charged. The brown fur became nothing more than a blur as she rushed forward, teeth bared, claws extended. In that moment, I was completely sure that I was going to die. I didn’t even have time to be afraid; it would all be over too quickly.

Then, somehow, though my conscious brain had nothing to do with it, my body reacted. Just before impact, I twisted aside, dodging her. Using my body’s momentum, I brought my hand around and swung. I hadn’t even realized I’d made a fist, but my knuckles connected and I heard the crack of bone as my hand slammed into the wolf’s cheek. The hit drove it—her?—back a few paces, but then she straightened and seemed to right herself. Her yellow eyes locked onto mine and she came again. I shed my jacket, and let it fall next to me on the concrete; some hidden part of me knew I needed better use of my limbs.

Three more times I managed to dodge the wolf as she lunged. On the fourth, her claws caught on my shirt and raked down my abdomen on either side, driving me back. I stumbled and fell. My back slammed onto the pavement with a hard thud. Again, I accepted my inevitable death. I watched as she continued to come at me, slower and more confident now that I was on the ground. All I could see were razor canines aimed straight for my throat. I cringed and turned away, unable to look into those bright yellow eyes, knowing what was coming. When I turned, a glint of slivered moonlight caught a piece of piping nearby, probably meant for the Dumpster but somehow had landed here.

Again, subconscious reasoning took over and I felt myself reaching for it, my hand closing around the cold steel. With a grunt, I swung out.

I hadn’t expected to actually land the blow or for the crack to be quite so loud. I felt the vibrations from it all the way up my arm but managed to hold onto the pipe until I felt the wolf’s weight go slack. She crumpled in a heap, half on top of me. I pushed her aside, which wasn’t easy, and scrambled to my feet. I stood, staring down at the giant mass of fur, wondering how in the world no one else had noticed what just happened.

As I stared, the wolf’s form began to shake and then shimmer around the edges, going hazy, and then finally, it was the girl again. Her long hair covered her face in stringy waves, matting to her head on the side where the pipe had made contact. Blood seeped slow and steady from the wound to the pavement. Her body was naked and curled together, almost fetal, except for her knee wedged at an unnatural angle. I could see that her eyes were open and staring vacantly but I didn’t linger on that. I couldn’t. Shock and disbelief surged through me as I gaped at her crumpled form, struggling to accept what I was seeing. No way. It was impossible. People couldn’t be … wolves. That was a myth. A way for Hollywood to cash in.

But there was no mistaking it. The girl lying in a heap in front of me was definitely the same girl as before. And she smelled, distinctly, of animal.

I kept hoping she’d move, or at least groan, from the pain of the head trauma. Ignoring the feminine details of her bare body, I stared hard at her shoulders and chest, looking for any sign that might indicate breathing. I didn’t see any. And I knew, deep down, that I wouldn’t.

My hands began to shake. Maybe from the cold, but I was too numb to feel the temperature against my skin. I took a step back and stumbled.

Hands closed around me, keeping me upright. I jolted and tried to jerk away from the unexpected contact. A strangled scream escaped my lips as the hands whirled me around to face my attacker.

“Whoa, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

I didn’t answer. My ability to speak coherently had been momentarily lost; any sound would’ve been a scream, anyway. My breath came in uneven gasps and he waited until I got myself under control.

There was concern in his eyes but that didn’t go very far with me. I noticed vaguely that his eyes were the same exact color as his hair, a sort of bronzed brown. The color was fascinating: unlike anything I’d ever seen, and they seemed to hold some dark edge that hinted at danger, no matter how gentle they got. The rest of him wasn’t bad, either. His face matched his eyes, rugged and hard edges from his cheekbones to his jaw. When he’d spun me around, I’d grabbed out to steady myself and even now my hands still rested on his shoulders, where I’d first gripped. Underneath my fingers, and the leather of his jacket, was solid muscle.

The fact that I was actually checking him out—just moments after killing a girl—was my first clue I was in shock.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Training to fight Werewolves? Because of some age-old promise to protect the human race? This was not happening to me. It was ridiculous, and far-fetched, and impossible. And even if I believed it, which I didn’t want to admit that I did, I couldn’t just run off and train for hours each day. I wasn’t the Karate Kid. And my mom and my friends would definitely know something was up—not that I could explain it to them, and not that they would believe me even if I tried. It took seeing it—up close and personal—for me to believe me.

     And even now, there were two thoughts that were so clear, they felt branded into my mind: One, Werewolves do exist, and two, I was born to kill them.

I felt the air in the car begin to change as I stared back at him. It felt warm and thick, like a humid, post-rain summer day. And even though we were already touching, palm to palm, I suddenly had an intense desire to be closer to him, pressed to him. My muscles ached with it and I had to restrain myself from scooting across the seat, and wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and burying my face in his neck.

The image wouldn’t remove itself from my mind and I finally had to wrench my gaze from his to keep from acting on the impulse. I was breathing heavier, partly because of the thickness in the air and partly from wanting to touch him. I wondered if he was affected, too, but I couldn’t look at him again or I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.

His hand slid free from mine, and he started the car and busied himself with checking the rearview and easing us out of the lot. I pressed the button for the window, letting in a gust of cold air. For once, I didn’t curse the cold, and was relieved when I felt the tension melt away.

When we were on the road, Wes cleared his throat. “Well, that was …”

I lifted my head from where I’d been leaning closer to the open window and looked over at him. He was running a hand through his hair, still searching for a word to describe what had happened. He’d noticed it, too. “Different,” I finished.

He sent me a half smile. “Yeah. Definitely that.”

Wes ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. “I tell you what you need to know to be safe. There are things you still don’t understand about The Cause. I get that you would be drawn to something like this. Our group, the idea of it—it probably seems exciting and noble. But it’s also dangerous and bloody and violent. People don’t always want to listen to reason and some of them don’t even want to talk to begin with. They figure out what message you’re spewing, and they attack you twice as hard. That’s not exciting or noble, and it’s not something you can just jump into with no experience.”

“I get that. But you can’t keep trying to push me out of it all, either. I’m a part of this world too, apparently. And I have to figure out for myself where and how I fit into it all. And I can’t do that if the one person who has promised to help me is keeping secrets or always ordering me around.”

“Fine. I won’t order you, but I will insist, at least for now, that you do what you can to protect yourself and stay out of danger. Which means, staying on the sidelines of our little group.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled, with absolutely no intention of heeding his wishes. It wasn’t that I’d already decided to join, but I didn’t like being told I couldn’t, either.

“And since you don’t have the ability to protect yourself, I’m going to also insist on guarding you, like we discussed at the meeting.” His eyes flashed, challenging me to argue.

Suddenly, the idea of him spending every waking hour with me didn’t sound so good. Especially if he was just going to act like my mother the entire time, lecturing and telling me what I could and couldn’t do. “I managed just fine with Liliana.”

“And what about next time? Metal piping going to become your weapon of choice?”

His mocking tone was meant to make me feel like an idiot, but I was too angry to give in. I didn’t need him. I could handle myself. Probably.

“Next time I’ll be ready,” I shot back. “I have weapons. See.” In a swift move, I reached behind me and yanked out the plunger handles, angling them downward in my palm, in what I hoped was a stance that made me look battle ready.

Wes’s eyes widened in surprise. I got a certain satisfaction out of that. Then his eyes narrowed as he got a closer look at my makeshift weapons. “Where the heck did you get these?”

“I made them.”

“Out of what?” He was still staring at the splintered ends, obviously trying to figure out what it had been before.

I hesitated, already regretting showing them to him. Finally, I sighed. “A plunger.”

Wes bit down on his lip.

I glared at him. “Well, I had to protect myself somehow,” I hissed, “especially that first day. I had no idea where you were taking me or how Jack and Fee would react to me.” I knew I was rambling but I kept talking, hoping the sound of my voice would drown out the laugh I could see building. When I was done, I shoved the wood pieces back in my pockets to get them out of sight.

Wes snickered, and looked like he was trying to hold in something louder. He managed to keep mostly quiet, probably from the murderous look on my face. “Okay, so help me understand,” he said, a little breathlessly. “You’ve actually been carrying these around since last week?”

“Every day.”

“Wow. That’s actually kind of impressive in a strange, disgusting, unexpected sort of way.”

“Whatever. Laugh it up. But I can protect myself.”

Wes’s face turned red from the pressure of holding his breath. Finally, it whooshed out of him, along with loud, knee-slapping laughter. I glared at him a second longer, wondering if now might be a good time to test out the durability of my plunger handles, and then abruptly turned on my heel and strode away.

“Where are we?” I finally asked.

“My apartment.”

My pulse sped up a little and my breath hitched. For a moment, I forgot all about the fact that Wes had just fought another Werewolf for me, or that I was mad at him, or that I’d caught George making out with my mortal enemy in the school gym. All I could think about was that this was Wes’s apartment, his private space, and we were alone.

I realized Wes was giving me an odd look so I did my best to smooth my expression. “So, what now?”

Instead of answering, Wes set his water on the counter and came around to stand in front of me. He stared down at me for a long moment and then, slowly, his arms came around me so that his hands were tangled in my hair. He lowered his face until it was inches away from mine and then stopped, watching me with a question in his eyes. I held my breath and waited. When I didn’t push him away, or move to stop him, he closed the distance and pressed his lips to mine.

Heat coursed through me, and I felt my muscles go deliciously soft. Wes’s arms tightened around me and he stroked my hair, deepening the kiss. I could feel his body relaxing against me. It was satisfying to know he was affected, too, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, not sure how long it would last and not wanting it to end. I could smell him again, woods and wind. His breath tasted tangy, and there was a hint of animal still in him that was both exciting and scary.

Eventually, he pulled away, but he kept his hands on my hair and face. He stared down at me with an intensity that took my breath away.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“When can we do it again?”

He smiled at that, but it was sad. “Soon, I hope. I mean, if you still want to. There are some things I should tell you first.” He took my hand and led me to the couch, pulling me down next to him. When he turned to face me again, the smile was gone, but the sadness still lingered.

“What is it?” I asked, a heaviness forming in my stomach.

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Book Two

Wood Point Academy is not at all what I expected. For one thing, it looks like a cross between military school and Buckingham Palace. Everyone stares, the floors shine so bright you can see your reflection in them from a mile away, and no one smiles. Unless they’re kicking your butt in the process.

At least I’ve got plenty to take my mind off the fact that my psycho cousin, Miles De’Luca, keeps calling and declaring his love and promising to come for me just as soon as he’s destroyed anyone standing in our way. Wes isn’t going to like that idea. So between Miles, Wood Point’s evil welcoming committee, and the drill sergeant hottie trainer from hell, I just keep asking myself, how did I end up here?

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Book Three

  1. If I had to choose one word to sum up all of my problems, this would be it.
    Without hybrids, I wouldn’t have to watch my best friend slowly becoming a monster. Without hybrids, I could let go of the mentality “hunt or be hunted.” CHAS wouldn’t be scouring the Earth, intent on slaughtering and using Alex to do it. Without hybrids, I wouldn’t have to be on guard that losing my temper meant losing my shape. There would be no monster inside me, struggling to get out.

    Then again, without hybrids, I wouldn’t have Wesley St. John.

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Book Four

Forty-six.
That’s how many hybrids survived the Hunter attack in the woods after I revived them with an injection of my blood. That’s how many followed me home to Frederick Falls. And that’s how many were now mentally linked to me through a blood bond.

Two days. Three valium. Fourteen hours of sleep.
That’s what it took to realize I wasn’t losing my mind as a result of the noise in my own head.

Sixteen.
That’s how many days have passed since I almost killed Alex. That’s how many days I’ve sat by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. To ease the guilt, to understand his betrayal, to remember the exact shade of brown in his eyes.

Zero.
That’s my chances of skating by with Gordon Steppe and the Hunter Council. They want me for questioning. I’m afraid what’ll happen if I give them answers.

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About the Author

Heather Hildenbrand

Heather Hildenbrand was born and raised in a small town in northern Virginia where she was homeschooled through high school. Since 2011, she’s published more than eight YA & NA novels including the bestselling Dirty Blood series. She splits her time between coastal Virginia and the island of Guam and loves having a mobile career and outrageous lifestyle of living in two places.

Heather is also a publishing and success coach bent on equipping and educating artists who call themselves authors. She loves teaching fellow writers how to create the same freedom-based lifestyle she enjoys. For more information visitwww.phoenixauthorink.com and find out how to create your own OutRAGEous Life.

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Giveaway

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Conclave Cover Ebook Hi-Res

Four science fiction and fantasy novellas for young adults.

At Conclave Manor, land-trapped Mermaid Thala Tellurian struggles to accept her privileged life while battling her self-obsessed Uncle in any petty way she can. Isolated and forbidden to delve into her family’s bloody past, Thala longs for change. So, when visitors from a rival pod reveal a hidden agenda, Thala dives straight in. But it’s not until she’s face to face with her family’s lifelong enemy that she realises she’s in terrifyingly unfamiliar waters.

Rowan knew nothing about the secret in his DNA until he found himself on the Terrean team bound for Conclave Seven, the universal Games held every millennia. But on the eve of the Games, knowing he’s a direct descendant of the warrior Spartacus is looking less like a gift and more like a death sentence…

Born into captivity, Doze has spent his life behind the Fence, so when staying there is no longer an option, he takes a chance to see if another life is possible. An experiment on the loose from ConClave Corporation, Doze helps his travelling companions to avoid capture, and discovers that there is no sacrifice too great for freedom.

On the Conclave Pacifica, a spaceship in a fleet heading to a new world, Peach forges an online friendship with Araxi, who is travelling on another ship. But, wildly off course and under pressure for resources, the future of the Conclave Pacifica looks uncertain. Could Peach’s new friend be the answer to her survival?

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Writing undersea worlds – channel your inner Mermaid

Want to write an undersea story that submerges your readers in a Mermaidian world? Or perhaps you’re an Ariel-wannabe who can’t wait to create the next epic marine adventure?

Either way, dive into your story with confidence using these 5 top techniques for channelling your inner Mermaid:

  1. Know your underwater characters

If you can’t visualise your characters, then how will your readers? Put your comfy pants on, you’re about to be glued to your seat for some serious research time! Think fish. Think deep sea mystery. Search through pictures of marine creatures, watch documentaries about underwater life, mine the likes of Flickr, Instagram and Pinterest for #mermaids and more. The better your understanding of what your character looks like, moves like, how she breathes, eats, communicates and lives, the better your internal image will be and the clearer your written descriptions of her behaviour.

  1. Discover the world she lives in

Immerse yourself in underwater scenes. Building on your understanding of your character, try to get a fix on what it’s like to live beneath the waves. If you can, dust off the scuba diving equipment or mask and snorkel and revisit the exquisite feeling of actually being there. Otherwise, visit an aquarium, watch videos, talk to people who’ve spent time working under the sea (marine biologists, ichthyologists etc) and get a feel for how the underwater world behaves. Use your senses. What does it smell like, can you taste it? What do you hear under the water? How do you see and communicate? How would the pressure of all that water affect something as simple as body language – a nod, a wave, shaking your head?

  1. Explore her motivation

We’re all aware of the ‘Hollywood’ mermaid stereotypes, from sucrose long haired beauties to toothy underwater witches. So your job is to come up with something unique. One way to beat the stereotype is to provide your Mermaid with a strong motivation, one the reader will relate to. What does your character need? What is she prepared to do to get it? How will this change her? For example, if your Mermaid needs to find her long lost Mother, how far is she prepared to travel? Who will she betray to get the information she needs? What aspects of her upbringing and which members of her family is she willing to abandon to get her Mother back?

  1. Activate your character

A lethargic, unmotivated, aimless character does not a good mermaid story make. Ensure your mermaid is active in pursuing her needs. If she starts sounding or looking like a purposeless bottom-dweller, who isn’t interested in moving from her comfortable sandy status quo, it’s unlikely the story can move forward. Strong motivations and real needs should drive your character to make active decisions, not wait for solutions to come her way.

  1. Keep it ‘real’

Bring your mermaid to life with relevant dialogue that’s right for her. There’s no need to keep referring to the way bubbles pour out of her mouth when she talks, establish this (or some other form of undersea communication) once, then let the reader be swept away by engaging dialogue that gives meaning to her situation. But keep it real, any language references need to reflect the world she lives in. For example, you probably wouldn’t use the phrase ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ when your character lives under the sea.

Jan Goldie is the co-author of Conclave, a collection of science fiction and fantasy novellas for young adult readers. Her story ‘A Mer-tale’ is the first in the collection and you can read a free excerpt from it by downloading a sample from Amazon or Smashwords. Find out more about Jan by connecting with her on twitter @shellbewrite or liking her facebook page www.facebook.com/shellbewrite

 

Author Bios:

Jan Goldie. I’m a working writer, creating content for websites, print media and social media. I have a BA in English literature and a Graduate Diploma in Journalism. Interestingly, I used very few of these skills in the creation of A Mer-tale, relying instead on my over-active imagination. When I’m not slaving over the computer for my day job or imagining myself 30 metres beneath the waves, I’m writing short stories, picture books and YA fantasy novels. My most recent claims to fame are the publication of a story in the crowd-funded collection of short horror fiction Baby Teeth: Bite-sized Tales of Terror, and my YA fantasy novel Brave’s Journey being short listed for the 2014 Storylines Tom Fitzgibbon Award.

Piper Mejia is a prolific writer, but only recently had her first story, Lockdown, published in Baby Teeth: Bite-sized tales of Terror. A high school English teacher, she is co-editor of student writing collections Write Off Line 2012, 2013, Beyond This Age and Beyond This Story, and is currently working on a young adult fantasy trilogy in both novel and graphic novel formats.

Celine Murray is 19 years old and has had her fiction published in magazines such as WriteOn, Easy Going, and Breeze, and in the horror anthology Baby Teeth: Bite-sized Tales of Terror. She has also published a solo collection of prize winning fiction entitled Seven to Seventeen.

Lee Murray used to be a scientist, but now she writes fiction for adults and children. Lee has twice won the Sir Julius Vogel Award for science fiction and fantasy writing, most notably for Best Youth Novel for her children’s title Battle of the Birds, and her short fiction has achieved international recognition. She is the co-editor of five collected works. www.leemurray.info

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Cover ~ Dream On

Love is dangerous for Emily, even in her dreams.

Seventeen-year-old dreamwalker, Em, might have to choose—leave her mother forever in the dreamworld or save the life of hot, rebel Gabe.

Emily Dal Monte and her mother, Lily, are special. They’re humans with a glitch in their genetic code that allows them to explore the fantastic, and often terrifying, world of their dreams for as long as they choose to remain asleep. But when Em’s father is killed in a tragic accident and her distraught mother loses herself more and more in the dreams of her crumbling mind, Em is forced to support the two of them the only way she knows how, by writing down her mother’s amazing dreams and selling them as books. Enter Gabriel Sobel, the handsome punk newcomer at Em’s high school who realizes Em is the daughter of his favorite, reclusive author. Gabe can’t figure out why Em keeps brushing him off and makes it his mission to find out what’s really going at the Dal Monte household. He stumbles upon their shocking family secret just as Lily takes a turn for the worse. It’s up to Em, Gabe, and one very nosy book editor to hop from one

extraordinary dream to the next to find Lily and convince her to wake up before she loses her mind…and before Em loses her first chance at love.

Excerpt

Tiny shafts of sunlight stream down from the treetops above us, forming small rings that illuminate the red pine-covered ground below. It’s weird how quiet it is here. There are none of the sounds you’d normally associate with a forest, like the scurrying tread of small animals or the soft breeze rustling through the trees. Everything is completely still.

I rest my forehead against the warm bark of the tree and try to calm my racing thoughts. How do I get us out of this mess? Mom and Evan aren’t here with Gabe and me. At least, as far as I can tell, they aren’t here, and we don’t have any time to find them. Evan and Gabe need to wake up now, or they could die. It’s so simple, yet so complicated. Do I save Gabe’s life? Or do I continue to risk killing him and try to save everyone? If I pull Gabe out, I could risk losing both Mom and Evan inside this dream. I have no idea if Mom’s recognition of me was a moment’s clarity, or something more lasting. I might never be able to locate her and Evan again.

A sob rises in my throat. I can’t help it. I’m so tired and overwhelmed, and we’re all so deeply in trouble. Despite my best efforts, the sob escapes, and then I can’t seem to stop another one from bursting out of my mouth. And then another one. Huge, wrenching cries tear through me, and I double over, my face in my hands, as the tears stream through my fingertips.

It’s all just too much.

I hear Gabe come to stand beside me, and before I can protest, he draws me back into his arms. I can’t seem to stop crying. I’m so embarrassed, but I just can’t stop.

His rough fingers catch the bottom of my chin, and slowly he tilts my face up toward his, so we’re gazing into each other’s eyes. My breath hitches, and it’s not just from all the crying.

“I’m sorry, Em,” Gabe whispers, his soft words loud in the silence surrounding us. “But there’s no one I’d rather be with right now than you.”

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Five Words to describe “Dream On”

  1. Fantastical – Em and her mother Lily are dreamwalkers, people with a glitch in their DNA who have the power to control their dreams and stay asleep for as long as they desire. Em, Lily, Gabe, and Evan (the main characters in the story) spend a good deal of their time hopping from one fantastical dream to the next. They explore worlds that are completely white, with ghost-filled castles and curious owls, desert marketplaces run by monsters, rooms that explode into swarms of bees, deep caves made entirely of diamonds and abandoned tunnels with giant snakes. Some of the dreams are fantasies and some are nightmares…now all they have to do is figure a way out!
  1. Fragile – To the rest of the world, Emily Dal Monte appears to be a strong teenage girl. After all, she’s had to take care of herself and half-insane mother since she was twelve years old. It isn’t until Gabe comes into Em’s life, and discovers that she’s a dreamwalker, that Em begins to realize how hurt and angry she really is. Gabe helps Em to let her guard down and begin to repair her relationship with her even more fragile mother, Lily. But will Lily find the strength to put herself back together and save them all?
  1. Passion – Em and Gabe start out having a tempestuous relationship. He invades her privacy and learns her closely guarded secret and she can’t stand how arrogant he is—and how much his good looks make her go all fluttery inside. But as a serious of dangerous events unfold; Em and Gabe discover a fiery love that only death has the power to quench.
  1. Terror – A nightmare is something most of us of try to forget, but for Em, nightmares are a way of life. Sure, she can control how long she stays in the dreamworld, but she must first complete whatever dream she’s in so that she can leave. So if Em falls asleep and finds herself face-to-face with her dead father and a mother who’s trying to drown her, she must suffer through every terrifying second until it’s time to wake up.
  1. Vibrant – The dreamworld enhances a person’s senses. Food tastes richer, smells are more intoxicating, colors are so bright that they sometimes hurt your eyes. Dreams can be so sharply beautiful you almost want to stay in them forever, but what if their vibrancy made you forget about your life out in the real world?

About the Author

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M. KIRCHER graduated with a B.A. in Fine Arts from Gordon College. She devours YA, science fiction, fantasy, and romance on a regular basis and is immensely happy to pour her time and energy into creating stories for other people to enjoy. Bob Ross and J.R.R. Tolkien tie for her two favorite people of all time.

M. Kircher lives in Connecticut with her husband, energetic son, and new baby girl.

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“Margie Orford has nailed it…wonderfully crafted and fully engrossing.” – Michael Connelly


Walvis Bay is a depressed and isolated port on the edge of the Namib Desert. Corrupt and claustrophobic, its shifting population is made of transients and vagabonds-people with no future and no past. When it seems a methodical serial killer may be working undetected in this pit of darkness and desperation, police profiler Dr. Clare Hart is brought in to investigate. With her personal life in shambles, Clare is initially happy for the distraction, until it becomes clear that her own life – and the lives of others – are at stake.

This enthralling procedural is perfect for fans of Patricia Cornwell and Kathy Reichs.

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More about the book

The gruesome murder of a homeless teenage boy suggests a methodical serial killer is at work in Walvis Bay, a depressed port, isolated in the vast sweep of the Namib Desert. It is a corrupt, claustrophobic place with a shifting population of people who came here only because they had to. Sent to profile the possible killer is police profiler and investigative journalist Dr Clare Hart. Working with Tamar Damases, the woman who heads up the town’s Murder Unit, Clare is glad for the distraction. Until a few days ago, her budding relationship with Captain Riedwaan Faizal seemed to be going very well indeed – but she knows she is not the only woman in his life – As the two women trace older crimes that may be related to the recent killings, they soon realise that nothing is as it seems. And as Riedwaan comes to join Clare, to help with the investigation and to try to salvage their relationship, it soon becomes clear that it is more than just their feelings that is in danger. In fact their lives – and the lives of others – are now at stake.

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About the Author

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MARGIE ORFORD is an award-winning journalist who has been dubbed the Queen of South African Crime Fiction. Her novels have been translated into nine languages. She was born in London and grew up in Namibia. A Fulbright Scholar, she was educated in South Africa and the United States. She is Executive Vice-President of South African PEN, the patron of Rape Crisis and of the children’s book charity, the Little Hands Trust. She lives in Cape Town. The entire Clare Hart series is forthcoming from Witness.

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a perfect moment

“When life threatens perfect, it’s time to step up and kick life in the balls.”

Ella’s perfect moment was taken from her is the worst possible way. Humiliated, heart broken and absolutely determined not to allow her heart be destroyed for a second time, she builds an ice wall around her heart.

Preston has known that he was in love his big sister’s best friend since the age of fifteen. Over ten years on, and an opportunity to be her knight in shining armour is too good to miss. Putting his heart on the line, he’s on a mission to show Ella that the perfect moment is possible.

Ella’s instinct is to run when she realises her feelings for her bestie’s little brother may just run a little bit deeper than just friends. But if she can’t run, she’ll try every trick in the book to shake off his affection and realign his feelings.

She already had her perfect moment, and there is no chance she’ll let her heart thaw for Preston. No matter how good he looks in the firefighter’s Christmas calendar.

*** Contains steamy-hot moments, romance, friendship and a bulk load of swearing – non explicit sex scenes. ***

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 About the author

Spending the last few years near the Queensland coast, Becca is rarely out of the sea or off the beach. Dragging her long board with her and her overworked Kindle Fire, Becca enjoys her three addictions: reading, surfing and ogling surfers, one of whom is her husband of ten years.

She can still be found regularly on the beach with her family. Becca tends to leave the surfing to her boys; she’s far too busy immersed in her own writing or, of course, with her head still buried in a new read.

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