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Thursday, April 17, 2014

COVER REVEAL for Marilyn Almodovar's FISSURE


COVER REVEAL

FISSURE
(Chronicles of the Interred #2)



By Marilyn Almodovar

YA Paranormal Romance

Releasing May 20, 2014

Published by Iambe Books, LLC

Cover designed by Nimbi Design

Baxter Jacobs just survived the worst Sweet Sixteen in history: buried in a coffin, hunted down by assassins, and losing almost everything that mattered to her. She’s ready for some normalcy, but “normal” won’t play any part of this Time Bender’s future.

Now that the immediate threat is over, Baxter learns just how much the English Council expects of the newest Interred. The pressure has her seriously considering her uncle’s offer to take her to New York, especially since she thinks it will keep her Healer, Jack, from overusing his abilities. Knowing the New York Council’s ranks are filled with beings using dark powers, however, makes her hesitate.

Before she can choose, the decision is wrenched from her. Fissures in Time result in a new battle with an old enemy. Someone she thought she’d lost reenters her life, and she’ll discover a web of lies woven into the fabric of Time…lies only she can unravel. Baxter will have to use her growing abilities to try and reveal the truth, even if it forever changes the reality she knows.



About the Author

Marilyn Almodóvar is the author of a series of YA paranormal novels. Born in Ft. Huachuca, Arizona, Lyn is a lover of words whose reading tastes range from Victorian novels to the books of Stephen King. Her favorite past-times have always been reading and writing, two activities that let her escape to other worlds.

Lyn could happily exist breathing the clean air of Narnia, trapped in a cupboard under the stairs with Harry, fighting alongside Captain Jack Sparrow, doing an internship in Torchwood, or traveling around time and space with the Doctor...as long as she can have Mr. Spock, Captain Kirk and Captain Mal as companions.

She currently lives in Central Florida with her French husband, English-born eldest son, and French-born youngest son.





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Thursday, October 17, 2013

Tracy Clark's: SCINTILLATE Cover Reveal + Excerpt

Today Tracy Clark and Entangled Teen  are revealing the cover for book 1 in The Key of Light Trilogy, SCILTILLATE. Coming out February 2014!

On to the reveal!


About the Book
SCINTILLATE
Author: Tracy Clark
Release Date: February 4, 2014
Publisher: Entangled Teen
Pages: 320
ISBN: 978-1622661459
Goodreads/Amazon/Barnes & Noble

Cora Sandoval’s mother disappeared when she was five and living in Ireland. Since then, Dad has been more than overprotective and Cora is beginning to chafe under his confines. But even more troubling is the colorful light she is suddenly seeing around people. Everyone, that is, except herself—she glows a brilliant, sparkling silver.

Troubled by these strange flickerings and fearing she is being stalked, Cora is inexplicably drawn to Finn, a gorgeous Irish exchange student who makes her feel safe. Their attraction is instant, magnetic, and primal—but her father disapproves and Finn’s mother orders him home to Ireland upon hearing he’s fallen in love. After a fight with her father, Cora flees to Ireland, both to follow Finn and to look for her missing mother.

There she meets another silver-haloed person and discovers the meaning of her newfound powers and their role in a conspiracy spanning centuries—a conspiracy that could end her life and change mankind forever.

Scintillate is the first book in this lush and exciting new trilogy, full of romance, adventure and metaphysical mystery.

                                      Exclusive Excerpt 


Finn began to play. Voices descended into a respectful hush. Soft strums of the guitar lifted and fell on shafts of daylight from the windows. A small patch of sun warmed my exposed neck as I listened. The orange beads of his bracelet flashed as he plucked the strings with slender fingers. His head hung over the guitar in reverent concentration.
His playing was amazing, sweet and peaceful. For a while I let go of how bizarre my life had become. I was entranced long before Finn closed his eyes and opened his mouth to sing. His voice was rich, smooth suede, perfectly suited for the blues: soulful and vulnerable. The kind of voice that reaches inside and squeezes what’s tender.
When he sang an Irish bar song called “The Wild Rover,” he got the entire crowd to join in on the chorus. A couple of times during his performance, his gaze fell on me and lingered as if he sang directly to me. I rested my chin on my hand, hiding my smile behind my fingers. The last song was in a language I didn’t understand, but my soul spoke that language. Deep inside, something cracked open so that a bit of my truest self could peek out. His music was bluesy and mournful, eerily familiar, and it opened my heart in locked places. A tear landed on my wrist.
When the final chord of the last song reverberated through the coffeehouse, the audience jumped to its feet and applauded wildly. The force of energy from the crowd knocked the breath out of me, making me dizzy. I dared a look at the people in the room. The colors were unbelievable! Such power. It rolled toward Finn in a wave, a tsunami in slow motion. I had the impulse to leap in front of him, to protect him from it.
My body jerked in response to the thought, and I squeezed the sides of the wooden chair, willing myself to sit still. I couldn’t trust myself and the strong urge to protect him. But from what? The big, bad colors I could see but that were invisible to everyone else? He’d think I was crazy.
Maybe I was.
A chill spidered up my spine. The man with the crazy eyes and pure white aura leaned against the brick wall a couple feet away, staring intently at me. Icy fear spiked through me, making my fingers tingle and my breath come in quick bursts. The sounds of the room fell away. My heart sped and my aura sparked as I saw the roiling ball of the crowd’s energy pass over the man and collide with Finn. But rather than crush him, the energy crashed and blended with his own bright aura, making it grow and pulse fiercely. He seemed to absorb the light until the room grew dim to my eyes.
Untouched by the energy, the strange man moved closer and closer to me. I called out to Dun, but he couldn’t hear me over the shouts and clapping. I was so small in my chair amid the standing crowd. The man and his dark eyes were all I could see. I tried to leap up to run, to grab Dun’s arm, to call for help, but my chest jerked toward the stranger as if I’d been punched in the spine. I couldn’t draw breath, couldn’t move through the thick ice of my draining energy and rising panic. I was hit in the face with a blast of air. Then, a sudden flash of white.
The world tilted sideways, and I slid off.


About Tracy:

Tracy Clark is a young-adult writer because she believes teens deserve to know how much they matter and that regardless of what they're going through, they aren't alone. In other words, she writes books for her teen self.
She grew up a "valley girl" in Southern California but now resides in her home state of Nevada with her daughter and son. She's an unapologetic dog person who is currently owned by a cat. She is the recipient of the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) Work in Progress Grant and a two-time participant in the prestigious Nevada SCBWI Mentor Program.
Her debut novel, SCINTILLATE, was inspired by her enchantment with metaphysics as a teen, seeing it as the real magic in life. Tracy is a part-time college student, a private pilot, and an irredeemable dreamer.


Giveaway!
1 ebook of SCINTILLATE and a charm key US Only

1 eBook of SCINTILLATE International






a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Blood-Stained Laments

Please read my competition flash fiction on Figment. Thanks




http://figment.com/books/555916-Blood-Stained-Laments

Monday, January 14, 2013

Lucky Seven Meme


I would like to start the 7-7-7 meme and tag the following writers to participate if they wish.


I'll have two groups:

Twitter: Meg McNulty, Amalia Dillon, A.M. Day, Laura Shamas, Jolynne Valerie, Stephen Timothy, and Sophie Moss.

Facebook: Kim Harnes, Temoca DIxon, Lia Keyes, Joel Pettipiece, Jackie Garlick- Pynaert, Cheri WIlliams, and Sandy Stark-McGinnis

Here’s the idea: Go to either page 7 or 77 of your manuscript. Count down 7 lines, then copy the next 7 lines to your status. After that, name 7 more authors to come out and play. 


Here's mine from THE SKY THRONE:


I squinted through a shaft of sunlight and shook my head. I was in somebody’s bungalow. Maybe mine. Couldn’t be sure. Pain pulsed through my limbs in time with my heartbeat.
I massaged my side. “Where’s the knife?”
The burly guy from the Andron stood over me. “Zeus, I am Pontus. What knife do you speak of? What happened to you last night?” 

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Twelfth Night Masquerade Flash Fiction Contest Entry #12Masque

Thank you to Meg McNulty for hosting this fabulous contest. Click HERE to see the rest of the entries. Following is the basis for the contest:

Twelfth night.  The last day of Christmas, the end of the pagan winter festival, the night when the Lord of Misrule takes centre stage, lords become servants and servants become lords.  Twelfth night, the start of the Carnival season. For the classicists amongst you, think of Janus, the two faced god whose festival heralds the start of the new year.

Entrants are charged with writing a poem or flash fiction of up to 500 words that involves masks or masquerades.

And here is my entry:



Prior to Eos’ flight, Jason traveled by moonlight and crept close to the palace. The hero hid in the shadows, eyes keen, muscles stiff. He relaxed as a female form approached. A hooded cloak draped her frame. Soft dawn light broke the horizon suddenly, drawn forth as if summoned from the dark shadows at the world’s edge. The warm rays illuminated the mask that hid the woman’s face.
     Behind the mask, her eyes glimmered in the dim light. Their beauty struck him with the power of Hephaestus’ hammer smashing against his ashen anvil. She removed her hood and slowly dragged her fingers through her long hair. Gentle tresses cascaded over her shoulders.
     Her honeyed voice floated over the distance between them and into his ears, “Καλημέρα. Good morning, brave Jason. Are you certain you wish to accept my father’s challenges? Are you truly the man to face down these tasks, cross my father, and place your crew in grave danger... or worse?”
     “Did you not witness my earlier display in the palace?”
     She smiled. “I did indeed.” Her hazel eyes sparkled with the memory of how her dark arts had saved him from a spear intent on impaling her new love. “But, what else do you have in that tunic of yours? You’ll need more than fancy acrobatics to complete these labors.”
     She produced a phial from inside her chiton. “Take this. It contains an oil you must apply to your entire body, shield, cuirass, and helm prior to the first task, else your death will be slow and painful.”
     He would have asked why she thought he needed her help. After all, he hadn’t needed her aid in any of the previous trials he’d faced. But then, Eros’ arrow lodged a bit deeper, love filling Jason’s chest cavity. Jason’s heart quickened, drumming a passionate cadence against his chest. A smile crept across his face. “Σας ευχαριστώ. Thank you. But why are you helping me, may I ask?”
     “You are the first person to come for the golden fleece that I believe can actually succeed... with my help of course,” she purred and caressed his muscular arms from forearm to bicep. “You’re either favored by the gods as you say, or foolish to a fault. Either way, I’m drawn to you. I cannot say why the passion burns so strongly after one meeting, but it does.”
     Jason crossed his arms. “I’ll not believe that you’d willingly betray your father’s volatile temper. Hera warned me as much. And I certainly witnessed it yesterday.”
     She placed Jason’s hand over her heart. “Eros’ shafts do not strike in varying degrees. Their impact is full and deep, blossoming unrestrained like flowers in spring.”
     “I too felt the bite of Eros’ arrows, but a growing affection is no reason to incur your father’s wrath.”
     “An ordinary love is not,” she countered. “Yet, the gods have cast their eyes upon us both. It is their will not ours.”


Hope you enjoyed.