Once Upon A Zombie Apocalypse by K.B. Miller and Jennifer Malone Wright

Coming Soon...

Once Upon A Zombie Apocalypse or (OUAZA) as the fans call it, is a short story episodic saga written by two fantastic authors, K.B. Miller and Jennifer Malone Wright. The first episode is from both Jade and Kylee’s perspective and is two separate novella’s. The same story, but from two different characters. It is done this way with the first episode only, so that you can meet our girls and really get to know and love them like we do.

Each following episode is written solely by one of the authors and available through their links.
Novella 1. KB. Miller and Jennifer Malone Wright
Novella 2. Jennifer Malone Wright
Novella 3. K.B. Miller
Novella 4. Jennifer Malone Wright
Novella 5. K.B Miller
and so on…
Also, this series is for 18+

To join in on the zombie fun, visit Jade and Kylee on their fanpage

#OUAZA Fanpage

Chemical Warfare has turned most of the world’s population into flesh eating Zombies. These are the accounts of two survivors.

Kylee and Jade are on their way from one author convention to another. After saying goodbye to all their friends, they never dreamed the plane would land with them fighting for their lives.







Kylee Mahafferty lived a life of luxury, jet setting to big cities around the globe, high dollar shopping sprees, and downing copious amounts of her favorite fu-fu-non-fat lattes'. But, that life's suddenly been replaced by one with a simple objective, survival. Kylee's best friend, Jade is the only thing holding together the slippery tendrils of her unraveling mind.

With their first mission being to find their families, will the girls manage to save their families while trying to save each other?

Kylee
     August 2, 2013
     Just a few days ago, my biggest worries in life were whether, or not I was spending
enough time with my family, and if my doctor was going to shit a brinck again because
of my caffeine habit. Sweet Jesus, what a difference a day makes.
     I'd never fed into all of that end-of-the-world doomsday nonsense my best friend,
and co-author, Jade used to go on about. I mean, it was all just fodder for the fantasy
stories that we wrote; Aliens raining down from the skies to take over the world,
beautiful creatures lurking in the shadows of the night to suck the very life from you, or
my personal favorite... gorgeous, shirtless angels falling from grace to save the damsel
in distresses soul from an eternity in purgatory. None of that was real though, right?
Yeah... that's what I thought up until two days ago when all hell broke loose.
     Thankfully she and I were together, headed to another book convention when it all
started. Unfortunately, we were separated from our families by hundreds and thousands
of miles. Getting home is our first priority. Killing as many of those "things" as we can
is just a bonus.
     Jade and I made an agreement, because we earned our living telling stories, we're
going to document our journey by putting pen to paper. That way, if the unthinkable
happens and we don't survive this insane new world─ our stories will. They'll be
timeless... gross and graphic, but timeless.
     Our nightmare has only just begun, and we've already been through the mill, but
I have no doubt that the road ahead will be paved in endless fear, terrifying anguish,
mind-shattering pain, and more of those creatures... those zombies. I'm petrified at how
this could end.
     May God be with all of us and keep us safe.
     P.S. Coffee sucks during the apocalypse!
     Kylee Mahafferty



Jade

I always knew the world was going to go to shit, I just never thought it would be this way.

The part that pisses me off the most is that people like me aren’t supposed to be surprised when the shit hits the fan. I have been preparing for the next world war or natural disaster to happen. But never, ever in my wildest dreams did I actually think that mankind would end with zombies.

It’s so ironic. As writers, we create these horror stories for others to read about. All of it is simply fiction, stories that rot our minds and entertain us, but are never really a possibility.

When it happened, Kylee and I were together, thank God, and we managed to survive the first day. We promised each other that we would document the days of our journey so that our words would become immortal … because we are not. No one is safe now. Anybody can turn if they aren’t careful. The zombies aren’t our only fear either. The people have become something just as bad, maybe even worse. When disasters happen, people lose their humanity as the will to live drives them into survival mode. I’ve seen enough TV shows and read enough books to know what happens to people, but that is something to worry about later. Right now, my only purpose is to find my family. Well, we kind of have to find Kylee’s family first because they are closer, but still, the mission remains the same.

I don’t have a clue how we are going to do this. My preparations included shelter, food, water, and weapons. They never included my being on a freaking airplane and landing on a side of the country that I’ve never even been to. I have nothing, nothing that I expected to have when this happened.

Our journey has only begun. I’m just glad that I’m not alone.


About the Authors


K.B. Miller and Jennifer Malone Wright are both authors of the paranormal and urban genres. Once Upon A Zombie Apocalypse came about after many discussions on how they would survive the zombie apocalypse. Their survival strategies were so different from each other on some accounts; they decided it would be fun to see the two differences trying to survive together. K.B. and Jennifer met as mere acquaintances and have now formed a life-long friendship.

K.B. Miller is best known for her best selling series The Moon Coven. She has several other works in progress which will release in 2013. At home, K.B is a full time writer with a very supportive husband and son who is too smart for his own good. In her free time K.B. likes to read, dabble in graphic design, watch her favorite shows, and spend time with her other love … coffee! She is also an owl enthusiast and swears she will someday ride a unicorn.

Jennifer Malone Wright is best known her YA paranormal series The Vampire Hunter’s Daughter. Her other works include the follow up to The Vampire Hunter’s Daughter called The Arcadia Falls Chronicles and her other vampire novel The Birth of Jaiden. Jennifer is the mother of five crazy kids and wife of a soldier. Jennifer also loves coffee, talking on the phone with her equally crazy friends and has a passionate affair with Red Bull.

                        K.B. Miller       Jennifer Malone Wright

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           Goodreads                   Goodreads

          Amazon                        Amazon

  

New Release Giveaway: Awakened by Inger Iversen

Paranormal Romance
Few Are Angels Book #2

What must he overcome to protect her?

With no clue of what to do next and the responsibility of looking after Alex and Mia as promised, Kale is up to his ears in problems and no solutions. How will Kale save Ella, keep Alex and Mia safe, control Jace as well as control the Bloodlust that creeps beneath the surface waiting to be released? Will Kale be Ella’s savior or will he convict her to a fate worse than the one Laurent has already promised her?

What truths will she learn?

Ella knows that the choices she makes affects not only her but everyone else around her, but what about the choices made to find her? Ella learns the truth about the death of her parents, learns that the ones she thought she could trust aren’t so trustworthy after all.

How will Ella handle these betrayals, and will she be able to sacrifice what is necessary to obtain eternal life?

Darke

Compassion was a sentiment I thought I’d forgotten long ago, that was until I heard Ana’s pleas to Ella. She understood nothing of Ana’s life here in this prison. Ella and Hélène were so different, but that was a long time ago.
Hélène had understood more about Laurent and the dire situation that Fate had placed her in. Ella was naïve, annoying; and I doubted her ignorance was real. Surely the Council had told her the kind of man Laurent was—the kind that took loved ones’ prisoner to guarantee fealty. His kingdom was one that few ever entered of free will, and even fewer—if any—had left him and lived.
Ana was one of the few innocents; my own hands were tainted by so much blood, my sight was red with it. She was here because of her parents—their greed for power only awarded them with death and their only child with slavery, losing even her name. Calling her Sophie was forbidden, and no other Chorý here but me had ever risked using it.
She stood in the corner, shaking with fear. So beautiful and petite. With the strength of ten men and a thirst for blood, she could easily be considered a monster, but it didn’t lessen her beauty in my eyes. “Calm yourself, Ana. She will not tell him anything.”
She had felt the wrath of Laurent too many times to be calmed so readily. As soon as I uttered the words to Ana, I knew that they meant nothing.
“Let’s go.” I gently pulled her down the hall toward the double doors that led to the courtyard, to take her to the one place she often visited after a hard day. The patio was filled with foliage strong enough to face winter’s wrath. It was dark out, but the moon was high in the sky and shone brightly through the double doors.
Her eyes widened, and she pulled from my grasp.
Ana shook her head. “I can’t leave her in there, upset. I heard what you said to her. How could you?” Fear and concern filled her small face. Ana knew what it was, to be held against her will, to be hopeless and afraid. Even when she should have been angry with Ella and her assumptions, she wasn’t. She understood Ella. In a way, she and Ella were similar—only Ella’s life had an expiration date darkening it, set by Laurent.
“I had to make her understand, Anastaise.” I placed my hand on her shaking shoulder. “She must be made to understand what has truly happened.”
Anastaise would hear nothing of it. I looked at her big golden eyes and had to make myself remember that she was no longer a child. She had been brought here at only fourteen, and in the four years that Laurent held her believing that she was the Arc, she’d been forced to become something she wasn’t.
Though in that time, girls her age were married and with child, she was still so innocent; and in my eyes, she’d remained that way. I did the dirty deeds that Laurent insisted she do. Anything a child like her shouldn’t have had to see or do, I shielded it from her. Maybe my shelter had weakened her in the world where she would have been forced to maim or kill. I took her sins as my own to keep her own hands clean.
“You shouldn’t have told her that. It wasn’t fair of you to do that.” Anastaise shook her head.
Her disappointment burned through me. I went to place my hand on my chest but stopped.
Anastaise held her hands to her face. “You think she has no right to be angry, that she should just trust what we say to her, but why would she? How could she? We keep her here for him, and we know what he will put her through when he returns.”
The hole where my heart once belonged shuddered again.
“Darke, we are the monsters she believes us to be. When will we admit that to ourselves?” She sighed heavily and headed for the door.
I stopped her. “Do you truly believe that, Sophie?” I stared at her, amazed at how little she thought of herself. Such a beautiful innocent creature she was in front of me. “Do you truly believe that you are a monster?”
She glanced away from me for a moment and then peered into my eyes, as if debating how to answer me.
How could she feel that way? I had worked so hard to protect her from the dark deeds that she would’ve had to commit for Master, yet she still felt as tarnished as I was.
I looked down at her hands, smooth, pale, and clean, and then to mine—dark and calloused, they announced all my sins and the innocent lives I had taken. The ties I once had with the Council were long gone, and though I believed that they were corrupt, I still believed in their ability to protect Ella from the fate she’d been promised too long ago. I only wondered if they’d gotten my clue. Would my brother follow it and save her? Such a small slip might have gone unnoticed.
It wasn’t that I was trying to redeem myself. I had given up on that hope long ago, but if the myths were true about this Arc, her life was worth more than my own. I just hoped that they would save Anastaise, as well.



About the Author
Inger Iversen lives in Virginia Beach with her tree-hugging boyfriend Joshua and her overweight lap cat Max. When not reading or writing she spends her time watching reruns of True Blood or killing zombies in Call Of Duty.

Twitter- http://www.twitter.com/kris10inger

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5829788

Website- http://www.ingeriversen.com/

Facebook Fanpage - https://www.facebook.com/pages/Inger-Iversen/187900437937819?fref=ts

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Freebie Blitz: Immortalis Carpe Noctem by Katie Salidas

Title: Immortalis Carpe Noctem
Author: Katie Salidas
Series: Immortalis (Book 1)
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Vampires/Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Rising Sign Books
Release Date: January 1 2012

Explore the emotional upheaval that is the transformation from human to vampire. Bleeding to death after brutal mugging on the campus of UNLV, Twenty-five year old Alyssa, is rescued by the cold and aloof, vampire, Lysander. Taking pity on her, he shares the gift-and curse-of immortality. She awakens as a vampire and is soon devastated by harsh realities of her new way of life: An unyielding thirst for blood as well as the loss of her friends, her independence, and her humanity. As if having her humanity stripped away was not enough to make life interesting, Alyssa finds out her "turning," did not go unnoticed by the rest of undead society. Old enemies; an ancient sect of vampire hunters, known as the Acta Sanctorum, as well as a powerful Vampire mistress, each set plans in motion to destroy both Alyssa and Lysander. Only by accepting her new-found immortality, seizing the night, will Alyssa hope to survive. She and Lysander must fight together against two sets of enemies bent on destroying them both.

Purchase Links

Amazon Kindle

Barnes and Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/immortalis-carpe-noctem-katie-salidas/1100073017?ean=9780984419609

Kobo

http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Immortalis-Carpe-Noctem/book-1ZGq3xCO2EmU1hCpf8O8Nw/page1.html?s=cqXyD9NJlkGuhMzSgCUJ8w&r=5

Smashwords

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/10237

“You are a vampire.”
“A what?” I shrieked.
“You are a vampire, Alyssa,” he said slowly. “An immortal.”
“No! That’s not possible.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Vampires aren’t real. They’re fiction; nothing but stories and myths.”
One of his dark eyebrows rose slightly. He cocked his head to the side. He smirked as his eyes trailed down from my face. “Did you not notice the mark on your neck? Do you not remember drinking my blood?” His fangs showed as he spoke: pure white, sharp little daggers, just a slight bit longer than the rest of his teeth. His voice carried that same arrogance I remembered from when he talked with my attackers.
My mouth hung open. No, this isn’t possible.
Things were still fuzzy in my head, but I did remember the blood, the liquid fire, I had been forced to drink. I’d hoped it had just been some drug-induced dream.
Oh, my God, it was true. I drank his blood. “I’m…a … vampire?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “Our kind are very real. And now, Alyssa, you are one of us.”
I slumped backwards into the cushions of the couch. His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared wide-eyed at the distant wall. This was like some terrible nightmare. I didn’t want to believe what he was telling me, but I knew he was right. There was no other way to explain what had happened to me. No amount of hallucinogenic drugs could have explained how I had survived the attack, why I had these markings, or the sharpness of my own new set of fangs. “Does that mean I’m… undead?”
“You are immortal,” Lysander said with a casual wave of his hand. “Undead is a silly term mortals use to explain the supernatural things they cannot possibly understand. You are no more dead than you were when you woke up this morning. You are just, for lack of a better word, changed.”
Lysander gave me another toothy grin. His fangs were frightening to look at. The memory of him biting me played over and over in my mind like a video stuck on repeat.
“But you drank my blood.” My hand shot back up to cover the wound on my neck.
“Only enough to allow the transformation.”
He reached out, grabbed my hand, and pulled it from my neck.
“Don’t touch me.” I flinched, annoyed and afraid at his sudden gesture. I tried to pull my hand out of his grip, but he was so much stronger than I was. He pushed my hand to my chest, forcing me to feel the erratic thumping of my heart.
“You see,” he said calmly. “Your heart still beats.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. “But…how?” I relaxed my hand relaxed under his grip. “Unlike some of your other organs, your heart is still necessary to keep blood flowing through your body.” Lysander let go of me. “For now, while your body is in transition, it will beat in an accelerated rhythm, but it will eventually slow itself to a more normal pace.”
I was speechless. My mind raced, recalling books and movies, everything I knew about vampire mythology. Bats, stakes, and garlic immediately popped into my mind.
“I must mention that your generation’s ideas of vampires are a bit off.” Lysander spoke with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Many of the popular books and movies about our kind are no more real than children’s fairytales.” Is he reading my mind? I wondered how he seemed to say just the right thing as I was thinking it. “So, none of the stories are true?”
“Most of the new stories you are probably familiar with are filled with complete nonsense.”
“What about the old ones, like Dracula?”
Lysander sighed. His shoulders slumped. “Dracula is not what I would consider an old story, but yes, a few are based on some truth, however little it may be. There is much that is added to make us seem easier to deal with.” His lip curled into a crooked grin. “Mortals like to think they can hurt us. It helps them sleep at night.”
“So, you’re not afraid of crosses, then?”
Lysander shook his head. “Crosses and other holy relics are nothing more than symbols and decorations. I hardly see why an ornamental cross would stop me from doing anything. Furthermore, I think it’s time for the Christians to come up with a better symbol. One that is a little less… gloomy.”
I chuckled. “Okay, what about garlic?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “What about it?”
“Isn’t garlic bad for vampires?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Why would it be? We don’t eat, so how would it harm us?”
I nodded. “Okay… umm… stakes?”
His head tilted to the side as the corner of his lip rose up into a teasing grin. “You can try to stab me with a piece of wood, but I doubt it will do much more than aggravate me. We heal quite fast. Perhaps a blade would work better.”
I shuddered, seeing his teeth again as he spoke. Is that how I look now?
“So, knives and swords are bad?”
“Yes. It is much harder to regenerate a severed limb. And if we are separated from our heads, it would be safe to say we would cease to exist.”
I smiled, noting the sarcasm in Lysander’s voice. I could tell he’d had this conversation before. He seemed to be enjoying my round of silly questions.
“Holy water?” I blurted out.
Lysander let out a hearty laugh. “No, you won’t melt into a pile of goo. You can throw most of that nonsense out of the window, Alyssa.”
I giggled, realizing how silly it sounded: melting into a pile of goo after being splashed with water. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
“You see, we immortals are not as ridiculous as Hollywood likes to portray us. Though one thing is true... we do survive off the blood of the living.”



About the Author
Katie Salidas is a Super Woman! Endowed with special powers and abilities, beyond those of mortal women, She can get the munchkins off to gymnastics, cheerleading, Girl Scouts, and swim lessons. She can put hot food on the table for dinner while assisting with homework, baths, and bedtime… And, she still finds the time to keep the hubby happy (nudge nudge wink wink). She can do all of this and still have time to write.
And if you can believe all of those lies, there is some beautiful swamp land in Florida for sale…
Katie Salidas resides in Las Vegas, Nevada. Mother, wife, and author, she does try to do it all, often causing sleep deprivation and many nights passed out at the computer. Writing books is her passion, and she hopes that her passion will bring you hours of entertainment.

Blog

http://www.katiesalidas.com/

Facebook

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Katie-Salidas-Author/214780936916

LinkedIn

http://www.linkedin.com/profile?viewProfile=&key=58814031&trk=tab_pro

Twitter

http://twitter.com/QuixoticKatie

Publisher

http://www.risingsignbooks.net

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Katie-Salidas/e/B003APXXWO

Amazon UK:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Katie-Salidas/e/B003APXXWO

Barnes & Noble:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/katie-salidas?keyword=katie+salidas&store=allproducts

Smashwords:

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/KatieSalidas

All Romance Ebooks:

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Katie+Salidas


This blog will receive around $0.04 for every $1 you spend by purchasing your book from the above link. Thanks! (but it's FREE right now!)

Excerpt & Giveaway: The Keeper and the Rune Stone by Paige W. Pendleton

An unholy ritual, a ticking clock. Four children discover there are things that go bump in the night ...

Centuries ago a group of Elves committed an unholy ritual. But the ritual was a spectacular failure. It transformed the Elves into the Noctivagi - the beings we know as vampires.

Striving to maintain a fragile peace, the ancient Elves and Dwarves negotiated an Accord, which they've renewed every year on the Summer Solstice. The ceremony depends on the magical Rune Stone, but it's missing. If it is not found—and quickly—the consequences could be dire, and not just for Elves and Dwarves.

Four children, Rob, Jack, Eleanor, and Flora, stumble into a world of magic and mayhem when they move into Black Ledge, the old estate on the Maine coast, and discover they aren’t the only ones who live there.

     Jack crossed the cellar and grabbed a Lacrosse stick. He came back, and gently prodded the prone form.
     The man swiped a hand where Jack had poked him, but didn't wake. Jack prodded him again, a bit harder. This time he sputtered, and woke up.
He didn't appear pleased. Eleanor moved Flora farther back.
     “I say! No need to wake a fellow. Best be a fire, mate,” he said, and pulled himself to an upright position.  Shaggy, uneven bangs fell in his eyes.
He fumbled around in the sofa until he found a cap, which he promptly stuffed on his head. “Not proper, catching a man undressed and all,” he muttered, keeping his hand on his hat defiantly.  He pulled a flask from the waistband of his grubby pants and took a long haul. A bit dribbled down his chin, which he wiped away with the back of his hand and scowled. “Who’re you?”
     “We live here. I think the better question is, who are you?” Jack leaned on the lacrosse stick.
     The odd fellow looked around the cellar. “Here? Funny we ain’t never met afore. Well, you git yer own sofa. This here’s mine.”
     Jack rolled his eyes. “Not here, here.” He pointed up to the house above them. “Up there. This is our house.”
     “Ahhh. Well, good ‘nuff. Plenty room fer us all.” The small man made to lie back down.
     “Wait! You can’t stay here,” Rob said.
     “Don’t see why not. I was here first, right?”
     “But we live here,” Rob said.
     “Greedy one, ain’t ya? W’all, I ain’t leaving,” the small man said, crossing his arms over his chest.
     Jack tried a different tact. “How long have you been here?”
     The scruffy little man frowned and thought for a moment. “Oh, must be nigh on 30 years, now. The little lady gave me the boot, good and proper, right? Been here ever since.”
     “But our parents aren’t aware,” Eleanor pointed out.
     “Oh, that ain’t no problem. Humans can’t see us halflings unless they have the knowledge, right? Don’t you worry none. They won’t bother me a bit.”
     Jack snorted. Eleanor and Rob exchanged glances. The problem wasn’t their parents bothering this being.
     “What's your name? And what are you, anyway?” asked Jack.
     “My name is Ralph, right? I’m a GOBLIN. Not to be confused with them uppity Hobs. I tend the gardens ‘round here.” His eyes narrowed. “Who wants to know?”
     “I’m Rob, and these are my sisters Eleanor and Flora, and my brother Jack,” Rob said.
     “You stay outa my gardens, and off’n my sofa, an' we’ll git on jes fine,” Ralph said. “Now, if you’ll ‘scuse me, I was havin' my nap.” He lay down, and rolled his back to them. The pointed toe of his worn shoe caught a hole in the cushion, and he thrashed for a moment before he freed it. A few pieces of batting wafted into the air. 
This blog will receive around $0.04 for every $1 you spend by purchasing your book from the above link. Thanks!

About the AuthorThe secrets of the Red Paint People have haunted Maine for 7000 years. Paige W. Pendleton is busy writing those tales.

http://pwpendleton.blogspot.com/

https://www.facebook.com/paige.pendleton.7?fref=ts

https://twitter.com/pwpendleton

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6573431.Paige_W_Pendleton

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Excerpt: A Stiff Kiss by Avery Olive

Genre: Young Adult Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Crescent Moon Press

Number of pages: 248

Cover Artist: Taria Reed

Who knew kissing a corpse would change everything?

Death always hits Xylia Morana too close to home, but she likes it that way. She hangs out with the terminally ill, attends random funerals, and every so often, when the weather is right, she sleeps in open graves.
But after Landon Phoenix, the high school hottie, dies in Xylia's arms, she sneaks into the morgue to say goodbye. How could she know stealing a kiss from his corpse would wake him up?

With Landon returned to the living and suddenly interested in Xylia, life has new meaning. But what Xylia doesn't realize is that by kissing Landon back to life, she's thrown Life and Death off balance. The underworld demands a body, and it might just have to be Xylia's this time.

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The Book Depository

No way should I be in the morgue. If I'm caught, I'll lose my job. My dad will probably get fired, too. He's been warned to keep me out of here.

The walls are lined with thick, square doors, clearly marked with numbers. I stop in front of the one I want. In the middle of that wall, at waist height, is number twelve. Beyond the door, lying on a sliding metal table, is the body of Landon Phoenix.

I've always had a crush on Landon, ever since freshman year when his family moved to Silver Springs. I've watched him grow into his looks, no longer a gangly boy with braces. And I've longed to hear my name roll off his tongue in that deep voice of his. To press my lips against his as he holds me in a tight embrace. To share the same air as him.

Though now, all those things are impossible. Except one. I can pull open the door, slide the table out, and at least for a moment I can share the same air, even though his lungs can no longer pull in that air.

I hesitate, my hand on the handle. Besides my mother, this will be the only other person who's died that I've really known. The others have just been people, random ones at that. The guy from the grocery store who jumped off Whibley Bridge into the icy waters below, the occasional patient of mine who'd succumbed to old age, and many, many others. But this is personal. This is someone I'd known. Or at least, someone I'd held secretly in my heart.

But I need to say goodbye.

About the Author

Avery Olive is proudly Canadian. She is married, and when she’s not helping raise her very energetic and inquisitive son, she can be found working on her latest novel-where she devilishly adds U's into every word she can.

When she is looking for a break Avery enjoys cake decorating, losing herself in a good book, or heading out to the lake to go camping.

The release of Avery's first novel proves to her it won't be the last. As long as her family continues to be supportive, she can find the time, and people want to read, Avery will keep on writing.

Avery Olive’s Blog : Facebook: A Stiff Kiss Facebook Fan Page: Twitter: Instagram: Goodreads

Spotlight: Grade A Stupid by A.J. Lape

Fifteen years ago, Darcy Walker’s parents thought it was a good idea to give her a unique name: Darcy, meaning “dark walker.” Whether that was a stroke of genius or stroke of stupid, they definitely nailed the irony. She lacks direction, her grades stink despite a high IQ, she’s boringly average--although flirting admirers claim otherwise--and God help her, she’s infatuated with a bad-boy.
A bad-boy that her hottie best friend, Dylan, wishes would get acquainted with his fist.
And, oh yeah, there’s that tattoo that was a royally stupid idea.
With her life spiraling out of control, everything changes when she skips class and finds a dead body…in fact, it gets worse. It jump-starts Darcy’s inner-verb, and her brain hardwired for action gets caught up in a situation she can’t let go.
Set in the fictional Cincinnati town of Valley, Ohio, Darcy falls into a world of threats, violence, and gangland exploits, chasing down every clue to finger the murderer. When a fellow misfit is arrested for the crime, Darcy goes from zero-to-sixty trying to clear his name—constructing aliases, breaking the law, everything that makes perfect sense to her, but reeks of Grade A Stupid to everyone else.
Trouble is…will she live to see 16?

 This blog will receive around $0.04 for every $1 you spend by purchasing your book from the above link. Thanks!

THERE WAS ALWAYS a boy in your life that common sense and the prayers of parents told you to stay away from: fast talker, fast car, and fast hands. He was the boy your father kept a loaded shotgun by the door for and met on the front porch if he ever thought about venturing onto his property…let alone the threshold. He was the tall, dark, mysteriously handsome, and uncharacter-istically quiet one that made you wonder what was going on in his head, and that little voice in your head said it wasn’t always so honorable. He was the boy you broke all of the rules over because bad-boys equaled excitement and the rebel in you liked the ride.

My name’s Darcy Walker, and I had a bad-boy like that in my life that I was absolutely head-over-heels crushing on.

I was sitting in the cafeteria watching Liam Woods, a senior—the baddest boy in school—chat up Ivy Morrison who was acting as if she’d eat him alive if cannibalism was legal. If truth be known, Liam wasn’t only a bad-boy, he’s a fastard. That’s a whole other level of bad the universe said was okay to dump on women. A fastard, in Darcyspeak, were boys that moved fast—they met you one time, told you they loved you, then set up your next date only for you to find out the fastard had a steady on the sly.

About the Author

A. J. lives in Cincinnati with her husband, two feministic daughters, an ADD dog, a spoiled hamster, and an unapologetic and unrepentant addiction to Coca-Cola. She studied English, Journalism, and Political Science at Morehead State University and left the business world when her daughters were born. Her love for suspense and a good story was spawned from watching Mystery Science Theater with her sister during childhood. That and any B movie with comedic undertones they could get their hands on.

When she’s not riding that razor-thin line between creativity and insanity, she likes to read, watch too much cable TV, or cheer like a banshee at her daughters' sporting events. She’s a huge hometown sports fan and loves to watch the Cincinnati Bengals and Cincinnati Reds whenever she can.

A. J. loves to connect with fans! If you would like to receive emails of upcoming releases, please sign up for her distribution list by visiting her homepage at http://www.ajlape.com and clicking the “contact” tab.

Find A. J. Lape Online:

Website: http://www.ajlape.com 

Twitter: http://twitter.com/ajlape 

Twitter: http://twitter.com/darcywalker13 

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ajlapeauthor 

Amazon Author Page: http://amazon.com/author/ajlape

Email: aj@ajlape.com

Excerpt from Raksha by Frankie Rose

Let me introduce you to the awesomeness that is Frankie Rose. She is the author of the Hope Series. If you haven't read it yet, I don't know what you are waiting for. I'm super DUPER excited for her next book to come out. I love dystopian novels and I think this book is gonna rock!! Frankie has been so kind to share an excerpt from her upcoming novel. Check it out after the blurb and be sure to add this to your TBR pile. 

Raksha by Frankie Rose 
Publication date: March 1st, 2013
Genre: YA Dystopian
Cover by: Chelsea Starling

She has no name.

She has her knives; her training; her halo.

The first and second give her the tools and the skill to defeat the opponents she is pitted against each month. The third frees her from pain and fear. From any kind of emotion at all. Everything is as it should be. Everything is as it should be, until…

FearPainAngerHappinessDesireGuilt

Love.

When a newly-named Kit escapes the Sanctuary after killing her best friend, the last thing she needs is another knife in her hand. Or Ryka, the damaged, beautiful blonde boy, who she refuses to let save her. Still learning how to process the onslaught of her new feelings, the sights and sounds of Freetown are overwhelming and strange. There are a hundred differences between her old home and her new one, but one thing remains starkly similar: the matches. Yet where the blood in the Sanctuary landed only on the colosseum floor, Kit will quickly learn that a river of red runs through Freetown’s very streets.

Freed from the oppression of a society who stole her right to feel, the true horror of her old life leaves Kit wondering if she really has been freed at all. Would she be better off without the crippling horror of all the blood on her hands, or is the love of one boy worth living through all the pain?

Raksha is the call of the dead. It is the rumbling chant for fresh blood from the other side, the demand for sacrifice. The colosseum is behind Kit. The fighting pits await.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Ryka’s at my side before I realise he’s even moving. He places his hand

tentatively at my back, the same way Callum did earlier down by the river at the Claiming.

     “Yeah, I just need some air.” I back out of the tent and draw the cool air into my lungs, willing myself not to let this guilt crush me.

     “I’m not very good at it, but you can talk to me, you know?”

     I swallow and cup the back of my neck with my hand, not looking at him. Jada emerges out of the tree line and creeps forward stealthily, tongue lolling as ever. She thrusts her head under my hand, wanting to be stroked.

     “Or you can talk to Jada,” Ryka adds. “She’s pretty trustworthy. Never told anyone my secrets, anyway.”

     I allow myself a small smile. “Seems like you tell it pretty straight, Ryka. I somehow doubt you’re keeping many secrets.”

     “I have tons,” he shoots back. “More than I care to count.”

     I Mmmm doubtfully, scratching Jada behind her ears. She seems to like that. Asha’s face is gone now, although who knows how long the reprieve will be. When I look up, Ryka is watching me pet Jada.

     “She likes you,” he says.

     “You sound surprised.”

     “I’m not. My sister’s a good judge of character. If Liv likes you, that pretty much means everyone else will. Including my fickle dog.” He whistles softly and Jada pricks her ears at the sound.

     “And you?” I ask.

     He smiles. “Seriously?”

     I nod.

     “Well, we’re friends. In that weird way where you’re eternally mad at me, and I’m eternally imagining what you look like naked.”

     “What!” I go to slap his arm but he ducks out of reach, grinning. From the way my insides react to his words, it feels like I’ve swallowed a jar of cleaning fluid. Is this normal? Is this what liking someone feels like? It’s confusing and frustrating and frankly wonderful. But what the hell am I supposed to do with that? How do I change who I am, seventeen years of fighting, a life of blood? How do I trade in all that confrontation for something a little…sweeter? I think it’s probably too late.

     “I really didn’t do myself any favours back in that forest, did I? You still don’t trust me?” Ryka tips his head forward, ruefully at his feet when I shake my head. “In that case I suppose it’s pointless asking if you’ve fallen in love with me yet?”

The boy is determined to make me die a death this evening. It’s all I can do not to choke as I shake my head.

     “Sadly, no. I don’t think I want to kill you anymore, though. So there’s that.

     In the moonlight, Ryka’s eyes bow as he grins. “There is that."

 About the Author
As a child, I was always accused of being bookish because I wore glasses- big, horrible, ugly ones with too-thick lenses. Those kids, the super smart ones who always know which tender insecurities to poke at in order to provokelife-long complexes, used to accuse me of reading too many books and that my eyes were going to rot out of my head (their words, not mine!) 

The truth of the matter was a little more embarrassing: I used to sit too close to the T.V. That was the reason why I had to wear glasses, but kids don’t really care about small, insignificant details like the truth, and so I was labelled a nerd. The label kinda stuck, and after some sage advice from my awesome nana (nana, you rock!) I decided that if I was going to be abused for my supposed literary obsession, I might as well develop one. 

I guess that’s how I got into books and reading at an early age. Since then, I’ve been ripping through books like they’re going out of fashion, which, thankfully, they’re not. Good thing, too, because I’m a writer now, and books are my business!  Thank you to everyone who has supported and encouraged me on my journey- look for your names in the acknowledgements! And a big thank you to you, the reader. I hope you’ve fallen in love with Farley and Daniel just like I have, and that you’ll join them in the next book, Eternal Hope! 

Amazon Author PageThe Hope Series on Facebookhttps://twitter.com/byfrankieroseGoodreadsWebsiteYouTube   

Ashes & Ice Blog Tour: Guest Post & Excerpt

Title: Ashes & Ice

Author: Rochelle Maya CallenRelease Day: February 4th, 2013Genre: Young AdultTour Host: Lady Amber's Tours

She is desperate to remember.He is aching to forget.Together, they are not broken.But together, one may not survive.​Jade wakes up with no memory of her past and blood on her hands.Plagued by wicked thoughts, she searches for answers. Instead, she finds a boy who doesn't offer her answers, but hope. But sometimes, when nightmares turn into reality and death follows you everywhere, hope is not enough.LUST. LOVE. LOSS. Sometimes, all that is left are Ashes and Ice

1. Waiting is torture.

Getting your novel ready to publish involves A LOT of waiting. You wait for edits, critiques, covers, designs... the list goes on and on. I was itching to get whatever I was waiting for back in my hands so that I could sweat, drool, giggle over it and of course, share the crap out of it. Stuff your pockets full of patience. You'll need it.

2. Your book baby is vulnerable.

Every time you send your mss out or have given details to a deigner, you not only have to wait for feedback. You also have to bear this awful feeling of vulnerability. Will they like my work? Will they destroy my idea? Will they hurt my baby?? A few things to help guard against this feeling is to 1) realize you can ignore/change what you don't like 2) if you have done your research, you probably shouldn't worry so much.

3. Reviews are a mixed bag.

Your book baby will always be vulnerable to reviews. Positive reviews are more exciting and beautiful than any Christmas present. Seriously, I have re-read some of these awesome reviews when I am feel especially low and they are an instant pick-me-up. Negative ones can stab into you. I think the most important thing to realize is that 1) everyone loves different things and it's okay if they aren't in love with what you have created 2) sometimes these reviews are very insightful into how you can improve and 3) if you are an Indie, you can always ignore or edit and re-release.

4. Editing (with a professional) is a must.

You may have a MFA, but you'll never catch all of your errors. Never. Sometimes you can have multiple editors, beta readers, critique partners and you will still miss the their/there's or then/than's or the stray commas. I had a beta reader, and two paid editors go through my work and I still found a few stray punctuation errors and wording issues. Imagine writers who just write and upload!

5. The competition is crazy.

Okay, let's just look at Amazon. You are looking at 400,000+ ebooks! YOWSER!!! So, you have to be proud of any improvements in rank. I am so happy that Ashes and Ice has stayed on the Top 100 for three categories. And even if it moves up one spot, I do a little happy dance. I go into fangirl freak out mode when Ashes and Ice is hanging out with the likes of Cassandra Clare on the list.

6. Organization will help you keep your sanity.

Whether it be a draft of your manuscript or a blog post or some contact info, try to be as organized as possible. I am learning this :)

7. Never advertise your release date until the manuscript is practically done.

My editor is smiling at me right now. I drove her crazy! I set my release date before my mss was done and it left me scrambling in the end.

8. Inspiration is optional.

You can't wait for the muse when you are trying to finish a book or make a dealine. You have to MAKE it happen. As my editor told me, "Grab inspiration by the balls."

9. The Book Reader/Writer community is beyond awesome.

I have made so many friends networking and learning the ins and outs of publishing. The Indie community is very supportive and we are all so excited when someone succeeds. I can't imagine a more fun group to belong to...

10. Pride is inevitable.

In the end, it is an incredible feeling to have something you have created out in the world.

Jade

     The girl’s glassy, dead eyes stare into me, through me, pierce me with a fierce urgency, with a wicked accusation. The blood is still on my hands. 

     Red hair, blue eyes, a constellation of freckles on pale skin. She was fragile and innocent, a lovely thing. That is what I think until I see the gashes on her wrists and

throat. With her blood spilling out, she looks delicious. She’s mine. Possessiveness shocks me, stabs into me. I run, tearing away from a craving I don't understand. 

     Breathless, I grit my teeth and run harder, faster.

My feet pound against the earth, away from the lifeless body and toward the lights of the city lingering on the horizon. Rot and death linger in my nostrils. Unscarred skin stretches taut over my freezing bones. Echoes of an empty memory reverberate in my mind, taunting me. The ice chases me, clutches me, and bites at my heels, sending shivers up my spine. The ice wants me back, but I run forward, toward the lights, toward the heat, toward a world that burns me, because I have no other choice.

     The lights are so close. Heat scalds my skin. 

     Images race through my mind, paralyzing me. I skid to a stop, my boots digging into the mud. The vision’s blurred edges materialize into solid shapes.

     I gasp.

     A new horror rakes my insides. Desperation propels me forward; the pictures nagging at my seams threaten to tear me apart.

     Scorching fire licks over my skin. In my vision, I contort like a vile, ugly creature, eyes as black as decay. My frame hunches over the small, dead girl, like a demon looming over a defenseless child. Her blood drips from my mouth.

     I lick my lips and taste only salty sweat.

     I run, desperate to trample the vision under my feet, to crush it deep into the ground.

     I refuse to believe the image, refuse to acknowledge the monster within me demanding to be unleashed—and the possibility it has already been unbound. An unrelenting tide of fear washes over me. Past the denial, the fear, and the hope, I think I can still taste her.

     The cold stillness inside me cracks open just as the lights of the city slam into me.

About the Author

Rochelle grew up dreaming up stories. When she entered high school, she tucked away her creative side and jumped head-first into academics, work, and service projects. She graduated summa cum laude with a degree in Political Science and Communication when she was twenty years old. After years away from her writing, Rochelle picked up a pen and started fleshing out a character sketch that she outlined when she was twelve. That sketch was the start of the Ashes and Ice story. Rochelle lives in the DC metro area with her husband and daughter. By day she works as a behavioral therapist. By night, she is a dreamer and is busy tapping out new stories on her keyboard.

Links:

http://www.rochellemayacallen.com/

Twitter: @rockyiswriting

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15864513-ashes-and-ice

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Rochelle-Maya-Callen-Author/478176392210312