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Monday, 15 December 2014

New Social Media

I've joined tsu everyone!

If you have an account add or follow me (or leave your link in the comments and I'll add you).

For those of you who haven't heard of tsu, it's like Facebook and Twitter merged into one, and so far I'm enjoying it. I'm not sure about the giving revenue back side of things yet, but I'm there just as another way of connecting because the new Facebook rules coming in 2015 are going to make it hard to share info.

Happy reading,

Friday, 12 December 2014

12 Days of Christmas ~ Meet Kate Wrath

graphic-70005_1280When I received Mia's invitation to participate in the Twelve Days of Christmas event, I immediately knew I had to take part. Why? The Twelve Days of Christmas actually features in the second book of my (otherwise) dark, dystopian series. 
Christmas? Really??? 
That's certainly what most of the residents of Outpost Three are wondering, and in the words of our heroine, Eden, "Christmas? What the hell is that?" 
Christmas might seem odd and out of place— silly, even— after the oppressiveness and trauma that dominated the first novel. But the world of E has not entirely forgotten its history. And never underestimate a sexy, semi-evil overlord with people skills and a way of motivating the populace through a heady fear-inspiration combo. 
In fact, Matt, the genius (or madness) behind dystopian Christmas, has proven to be one of my readers' all-time favorite characters. He has a number of other quirks that make him quite appealing... yep, even when he's killing people. 
So, in honor of Matt's Christmas, here's the end/beginning of The Twelve Days of Dystopian Christmas, containing things that can indeed be found in Evolution (E #2). It would be great fun if you'd all comment with your own ideas to fill up the rest of the song. 12days   
Share your own lines in the comments! Have a safe, happy holiday season, and... non dystopian Christmas


Connect with me:

  Kate Wrath's WebsiteTwitterGoodreadsFacebook

Read an excerpt of E here.

  dystopian novel cover of Evolution by Kate Wrath

12 Days of Christmas ~ Meet Sydney Strand

It’s that time of year…Santa Lucia!

(You thought I was going to say Christmas, didn’t you? Well, what kind of writer would I be if I wrote what was expected?)

I spent a year in Sweden when I was sixteen, and so much of that country’s people and traditions have stayed with me:

-How shy everyone was.

-How when kids heard me speak English on the bus, I would hear things like “Yippeekaiyay Motherf*ck*er” and “Hasta La Vista, Baby”—not exactly English, but definitely from American movies.

-How I wasn’t allowed to help other kids my age pronounce English in my English class at school—they were learning British English, not the “wrong” American English.

-How children dressed up as witches and old ladies at Easter so the witches that came out that time of year couldn’t take them away to grind their bones into powers for the next year. (More about that here.)

-How on December 13th, girls and boys dressed up to be in the processional through town to celebrate Santa Lucia. (More about that here.)

Santa Lucia was one of my favorite traditions--the music! the food!--and I still celebrate it two decades later. Now that I live in New England, I go each December to the SWEA Boston Santa Lucia and inhale Swedish meatballs with lingonberry sauce, Princess Cake and pepparkakor.

It’s not too surprising, then, that I have a whole section in my holiday book, His Favorite Inconvenience, dedicated to a plot twist involving Santa Lucia. It takes place at The Venetian in Vegas along its indoor canals with a 16-year-old Santa Lucia who’s a bit of a jerk.

I love this holiday so much, in fact, that I made sure my newest book, His Favorite Distraction, is coming out that day!

Here’s hoping you have a great Santa Lucia this Saturday. And if you’re in the need of food and song, here are a couple to get you in the mood:

Santa Lucia Saffron Buns
Santa Lucia Song
The “Santa Lucia Book”

The Book Coming out on Santa Lucia 2014:

Sydney Strand doesn’t normally wear plastic Viking hats. But if she is wearing one, she must be at SWEA Boston celebrating Santa Lucia and eating way too much Princess Cake.

Find her on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Twitter, Tumblr… She’s wherever there is procrastination to be had!

12 Days of Christmas ~ Meet Georgia Hill

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree - a tall (tree) story

It’s nearly Christmas and I’m getting in the mood for buying the tree and getting the lights out. One year though, I bit off more than I could chew ...

It was our third year in this house and feeling flush, Hubs and I decided to get a really big tree. I mean big.

After doing a bit of shopping one Saturday afternoon, not long before the day itself, we tootled into a Christmas barn just down the road. We’d bought trees from them before. Craig, the owner, was as big as a tree himself and I had a bit of a crush on him, despite (or maybe because of) the fact he was permanently dressed in overalls and woolly hat.

When he clocked us and hearing our request for a really tall tree, Craig claimed he had something really special in mind. I think his actual words were, ‘I’ve got something huge for you,’ at which I blushed furiously.

All we needed to do, he said, was drive further up the lane, where we’d find a gate. We were to park up and wait.

This we did. We sat in the car for a while, enjoying the rural view. Then, getting impatient, we got out. It was freezing! A wind whipped over the top of the hill and sliced through the thin suede jacket I’d thought perfectly fine for an afternoon’s shopping.

As we turned to get back into the car and go home, a quad-bike towing a trailer roared up the field. A very tall, very bulky young man got off.

‘You the folks Craig sent?’ he asked, in ringing tones.

Nodding, we went over to him and through the gate into the field.

‘Get on then.’

As Craig hadn’t said what to expect, we assumed we were being taken, by his hunky colleague, to another barn where the ‘special trees’ were kept. Hubs and I clambered aboard the trailer and crouched down, trying in vain not to get muddy.

‘I’m Shane,’ said the hunk and flung a thickly muscled leg over the quad-bike. ‘Hang on.’

You’d think Shane would respect his elders, clutching onto the rail of a trailer being bumped over a sodden Herefordshire field, wouldn’t you? Not a bit of it. Hubs and I were taken on a teeth-rattling ride, at top speed (well, as fast as a quad-bike can go) for about three hours.

Alright, I exaggerate. It was probably twenty minutes.

Eventually and thankfully, we stopped.

‘Here we are,’ said our chauffeur.

Here we were – where?

We’d stopped in the middle of the field. By now, the light was going. Straining against the dark, I looked round for a barn, or at least some netted up trees ready to be taken to the shop, on the main road.


Actually, there were trees. Lots of them. And they were pines alright – and they all had their roots firmly planted deep in the ground. And there was mud. Lots of it. Sticky, red, Herefordshire mud. I tried not to look at my ankle boots. Shane, I noticed, had on wellies.

He disappeared behind one of the largest trees and returned with a chainsaw.

The afternoon was now taking a slightly surreal turn.

‘Right guys, you ready, then?’ Shane revved the saw and grinned, his teeth gleaming malevolently in the gloom.

I looked at Hubs and wasn’t reassured to see him looking as terrified as I felt.

Shane came closer. We retreated backwards, stumbling over the rough ground. Just what was going on?

Having visions of headlines in the local paper shouting, ‘Couple Murdered in Christmas Chainsaw Massacre’, I prodded Hubs. ‘Ask him what we’re supposed to do,’ I hissed.

Shane heard me. His face fell. ‘Didn’t Craig explain?’ He jerked the alarming chainsaw towards the darkening field. ‘You wanted an extra tall tree,’ he said. ‘You go and choose one and I’ll fell it for you.’

The relief, dear reader, was enormous.

However, our ordeal was far from over. By this time we were frozen through and filthy with mud. It had also begun to sleet. My suede coat! Shane, I noticed, was wearing a thick donkey jacket.

Hubs and I cast about for a suitable tree. ‘That one,’ we said in unison and pointed to the nearest. The sooner we chose a tree, the sooner we could get to a seat in front of a roaring fire in the pub.

‘You sure, guys?’ said our chainsaw bearing hunk, doubtfully.

We nodded, as best we could, as we were now numb with cold.

‘Okay,’ he replied and began to saw at the trunk.

It travelled back with us, in the trailer, its soaked and muddy branches flailing at our faces.

Once home we managed, after a fashion, to attach it to a stand and put it up in the hall. It was certainly a tall tree. And it was certainly special – it had a dog-leg bend halfway up and leaned, perilously to the right. To stop it falling over, I tied it to the banisters with some unprepossessing and very unfestive string.

I looked at Hubs. He looked at me. We noted our cold reddened noses, the smears of mud on our faces, the twigs and dead leaves in our hair. And we agreed. Next year we’d get an artificial one!

Whatever your tree is like, I wish you a Very Merry Christmas!


Georgia x

Author Bio:

Say It with Sequins The Complete Series (Say It With Sequins, #1-3)I used to live in London, where I worked in the theatre. Then I got the bizarre job of teaching road safety to the U.S. navy – in Marble Arch!

A few years ago, I did an ‘Escape to the Country’. I now live in a tiny Herefordshire village, where I scandalise the neighbours by not keeping ‘country hours’ and being unable to make a decent pot of plum jam. Home is a converted oast house, which I share with my two beloved spaniels, husband (also beloved) and a ghost called Zoe.

I’ve been lucky enough to travel widely, though prefer to set my novels closer to home. Perhaps more research is needed? I’ve always wanted to base a book in the Caribbean!

I am addicted to Belgian chocolate, Jane Austen and, most of all, Strictly Come Dancing. Keep dancing, everyone!


Harper Impulse

Thursday, 11 December 2014

12 Days of Christmas ~ Meet B.L. Berry

Hi, everyone! I'm B.L. Berry and I'm geeked to be celebrating the 12 Days of Christmas you fine folks today! In September I released my debut novel, Love Nouveau, to rave reviews and I've been busy writing the more of Phoenix and Ivy's story due to popular demand.  

The only thing inevitable in love is despair.
I knew from the start that he would wreck me. Nothing could have prepared me for the day he walked into my life ... or the day he walked out of it.
I self-destructed.
All that remained was a shell of the girl I once was. SHATTERED.
And I don't know if I'll ever recover.

Buy Links
  Lightning Round
In Love Nouveau, Ivy Cotter meets (and subsequently falls for) the utterly swoontastic Phoenix Wolfe in a rather unconventional way. So today, we're here with Ivy and Phoenix to play an unconventional game...Lightning Round. No, not the drinking game...but rather the rapid-fire word game where the player says the first word that pops into their head in an effort to get to know the person.
Art Ivy: Love
Phoenix: Ivy
Dirty Talk Phoenix: Yes, please!
Ivy: You're kidding? Right.
Phoenix: What?! You didn't seem to mind that one time.
Ivy: [eye roll]
Phoenix: Foo Fighters!
Ivy: Definitely Everlong. Someone once told me it was the greatest love song in the history of love songs.
Ivy: Oh, God. Never again. Ever.
Phoenix: Makes me forget. Ivy: Forget what?
Phoenix: Nevermind.
Phoenix: Oh, geez. You just had to go and do that?
Ivy: Waffles! A girl's gotta have her breakfast carbs. Do you have any back there? Hmm...?
Ivy: Fuck that.
Phoenix: What she said.
Ivy: Style!!
Phoenix: Really, Ivy? Really?? I'm going with the name of my very first dog. She was the best golden retriever around.
Ivy: Shit.
Phoenix: That, too, would have been a better response to "dog" than saying "style" with such enthusiasm.
Teaser3 (1) 
Silence passes between us and he nudges my elbow with his. Reaching out for my hand again, he delicately traces the inside of my palm where he kissed it yesterday with his fingertip. Goosebumps rise and my body hums with anticipation. I turn to look him in the eye again and he has a charming, yet shy, look on his face. 
For the love of all that is holy…lean over and kiss me, already! 
“You know … if you’re wondering whether or not I want to,” he pauses for a quick breath and stares at my lips before continuing. “I want to. Or rather, I want you to.” 
I can hardly control myself and double over in laughter. 
“What?” Phoenix asks, his eyebrows knit together.
“I cannot believe you just said that! You just turned one of my most favorite songs into a cheesy pickup line!”
He chuckles softly and tries to pull me back toward him. “Yeah, you got me. At least now I have confirmation that you have good taste in music.” 
Pfft. As if there were ever any doubt. I’m becoming increasingly more aware of how he works. Clearly he has issues making the first move, but once the door is open, the shy guy dissolves. 
We stare at each other in silence … staring through each other … his hazel eyes pleading for what we both want to say … for what we both want to do. 
For something that has been so easy to do so many times before, I’m surprised by my nervousness. Then, as if on cue, the world starts moving in slow motion. I watch Phoenix close his eyes and lean toward me, and I swear … I swear I see his lips quiver. 
“Ivy…” he whispers. My name tastes of chocolate and caramel from the cupcakes we shared and my heart sighs at the sound of my name rolling off of his tongue. 
I lean forward and close the gap between us, running my fingertips down his face and committing his stubble to memory as I slowly part his lips with mine. 
I fall into this kiss… 
Fall into him… 
Fall for him. 
This kiss. God, this kiss is deliciously slow like honey. Instantly I can feel it everywhere in my body, blazing in my palm … my chest … my toes. He takes his time, his hands outlining my neck to my shoulders and down to my arms. 
I kiss him like I’m starving and I only now realize that I have been hungry for the past twenty-two years, savoring every last bite, committing it to memory for both the present and the afterlife. I take my time memorizing his mouth with my tongue. 
The fresh taste of his lips … 
The way his arms envelop me, delicate but firm … 
The tender moan that rises from the back of his throat … 
I’ve come undone. 
Pulling back, I watch him bring his fingertips to his lips in wonder. When his lips struck mine, tiny sparks jumped. Heat flashed. Instant combustion. 
With that one kiss, an ember hidden deep inside my soul awakened a sleeping shadow. A kindling in my hollows started a slow burn. The ember becomes light, a twin flame illuminating my heart. 
It’s strange to think that something as innocent as pressing one’s lips to another’s can so drastically alter the course of your entire life. But with that single kiss, I know that he is important. 
That single kiss has changed everything. 
  About The Author 
BLBerry_headshot B.L. Berry is many things. A New Adult author. A self-proclaimed music whore. A long-course triathlete. A marketing savant. And a full-time working mom. While there are never enough hours in the day, she does the best she can to get things done and hopes for technological advances in human cloning. When she’s not hiding behind her computer writing, you can find her spending time with her family or catching up on her favorite TV shows. Rumor has it she’ll sleep when she’s dead. She is Canadian by birth. Mexican by marriage. Chicagoan by heart. Kansan by choice. Jayhawk purely by common sense. Residing outside of Kansas City, she lives with her husband, two children and black pug. Each day her family thanks the makers of e-Readers, because without which they would be living amongst stacks and stacks of romance novels. Conversely, each day B.L. Berry thanks the makers of e-Readers for hiding her book-hoarding tendencies.

12 Days of Christmas ~ Meet Sara Furlong Bur

My Favorite Christmas Stories

Really, who doesn’t love Christmas? With the beautiful lights, the cookies, the snow blanketing the ground, and the overall merriment in the air, it’s hard not to get into the spirit that takes hold this time of year. Along with good tidings, Christmas has inspired a plethora of stories that have stood the test of time from generation to generation. Stories that have lived in the hearts of their readers and will continue to endure for as long as we continue to celebrate the holiday that prompted their birth.

We all have our favorite tales, ones that, when we hear them, invoke an instant feeling of nostalgia from Christmases past. For me, that’s no exception. Here is a list of those Christmas stories that get me in the holiday spirit:

How The Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss: Take one joyous, over-celebratory, fictional town, add an angry outcast with a serious grudge against basically everything that creates happiness, and what do you get? A story of forgiveness and redemption that has resonated with millions of readers since its publication in 1957.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens: This is probably one of the most universally known and loved Christmas stories of all time. Why? Because, I believe, it embodies everything Christmas is supposed to stand for: giving to those less fortunate than yourself, being thankful for the things and the people you have in your life, and living your life to the fullest. Truly, we can all learn a thing or two from Ebenezer Scrooge, Bob Cratchit, and, of course, Tiny Tim.

The Nutcracker and the Mouse King by E.T.A. Hoffmann: Known more simply as The Nutcracker, this novella, upon which the famous ballet was adapted, chronicles the story of Marie Stahlbaum and her favorite Christmas toy, the Nutcracker, that comes alive and defeats the evil Mouse King before he takes her away to a kingdom of dolls. This story is both magical and whimsical, exactly how Christmas should be.

The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams: The perfect story to read to your children, The Velveteen Rabbit is the story of a beloved toy rabbit (a Christmas present given to a young boy) that longs to be real. To the boy, the stuffed rabbit is real and he takes it everywhere he goes. But when he becomes ill with scarlet fever, the boy’s toys, including his favorite rabbit, are bundled up and taken away to be burned. However, as the stuffed rabbit pauses to reflect on his time with the boy, he cries a real tear. A fairy rises from that tear and turns the toy rabbit into a real rabbit. Later, the rabbit returns to see the young boy, who recognizes him as his former toy. Seriously, if you don’t get choked up by that, you have no pulse.

The Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore: Even though this is technically not a story and more of a poem, it has still been a staple for millions of families for nearly 200 years now (the poem was originally published in 1822). And, really, who hasn’t heard The Night Before Christmas, and what is Christmas Eve without it being recited at least once before you go to bed?

Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer: Two stories that really need no introduction, I remember reading – or most likely looking at the pictures as I was very young – these two books in their old school Little Golden Book editions. And since being introduced to these two stories, I can’t get enough of the television specials based upon them whenever they come television, often using my children as an excuse to make sure the channel is turned to them each and every year.

Merry Christmas and, as always, happy reading, everyone!

About the Author

Sara Furlong Burr
Sara “Furlong” Burr was born and raised in Michigan and currently still lives there with her husband, two daughters, a high-strung Lab, and three judgmental cats. When she’s not writing, Sara enjoys reading, camping, spending time with her family, and attempting to paint while consuming more amaretto sours than she cares to admit.

You can learn more about Sara at, follow her on Twitter via @Sarafurlong, and read more of her ramblings via Facebook at

Enigma Black (Enigma Black, #1)Vendetta Nation (Enigma Black, #2)Redemption (Enigma Black, #3)

Wednesday, 10 December 2014

12 Days of Christmas ~ Meet Becky Wicks

What do authors do when they’re not writing?

We drink coffee, and maybe gin. OK, both.

Sometimes all I do, all day, is drink coffee and stare at my laptop. It’s not exactly the healthiest of lifestyles is it? I’m well aware I’m 34 and should possibly be out there looking for a husband but seriously, I’m BUSY. (Oh, but this is set to change next year, I’m moving to Nashville to travel using the Tinder app, and maybe find my man?!).

We dream
The world in my head often demands far more of my time than the one outside of it and I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in that respect.

We read, read, and read some more!When I do shut that laptop, I read. I read everything, from other books in the new adult genre, to the classics, to articles on self-publishing and books on reincarnation – my latest topic of interest (I’m pretty sure I was some kind of southern cowgirl at times because… well, it’s weird, but there’s a reason this Brit wants to go to Nashville!) I think I want to write a book, a romance, based on reincarnation somehow, maybe after my next Starstruck novel?

We hang out with other writers! I have a friend here in Bali who’s an author too. Her name is Sarah Alderson and she wrote the YA books Hunting Lila, The Sound, Fated - also the new adult Come Back To Me, which is a tear-jerking journey of awesomeness that you NEED to read. When we get together we tend to do things like this to lighten the mood:

We’re probably bigger Disney fans than Sarah’s 8 year old daughter and the Frozen movie always cheers us up, especially when someone writes a bad review of one of our books (boo!).

We listen to Taylor Swift a lot, too.
I think Taylor gives out a very powerful message to young women, and us writers, too. You have to believe in your own worth. And never give up on your dreams. Whenever you’re having a bad day, just Shake it Off!

So yes, we sing, we talk, we read, we act like idiots and we keep on searching for inspiration. 
Sometimes we come up with some great ideas when we’re out there not even expecting them to strike! A book about a southern cowgirl from the past who likes Disney movies when she travels forward in time, to a coffee shop, in Bali? YES!

OK, no. So I still have some things to work out. Video cameras off, and it’s back to the grind. Make mine a long black, please…

Becky Wicks is the HarperCollins author of travel memoirs Burqalicious, Balilicious and Latinalicious, plus the StartStruck Series, Before He Was Famous, Before He Was Gone and Before He Was A Secret. Follow her @bex_wicks and on her blog:

12 Days of Christmas ~ Rachelle Ayala

There's nothing like an extra helping of pie, merry Christmas music, a crackling fire, and a Christmas story. Back when I was a kid, I yearned to watch Christmas cartoon specials, Charlie Brown Christmas, Rudolph, Frosty the Snowman, to Hallmark specials and Christmas movies. They were familiar, the same, Miracle on 34th Street, It's a Wonderful Life, classics to be enjoyed again and again. However, if you want something new, something odd, or intriguing, or even way out, look no further than the avalanche of Christmas romance novellas at ebook stores everywhere. From talking cats to hairless dogs, Navy SEALs to shapeshifting bears, dashing doctors to scarred veterans, romance writers everywhere are putting out Christmas stories for every taste, mood, and theme. This years crop includes Ten Christmas Brides, for all you marriage minded readers, centering around Christmas marriages and proposals.
Then there are sweet kisses, and behind the door love scenes, geared for the PG-crowd.
And the hot, steamy, sensual ones with enough heat to melt Frosty!
If inspiration and faith is your theme, there's a set for you too.
And finally, there's the heartwarming magic of Christmas that heals broken families, gives hope to the scarred, and brings people and pets together all in the name of love.
Romancing Christmas has a story for everyone and includes my contribution, A Father for Christmas: A child's wish, a mother's fear, and a badly scarred veteran hope for their best Christmas ever.
Whatever set you pick [or get them all], you'll laugh, cry, hug your pet, husband, or child, and rejoice as you cuddle with this year's crop of Christmas stories. Perhaps what I like MOST about Christmas stories is the happy ending and uplifting of my spirit. It gets me into a holiday mood, give me hope, and lets me look at the world and my fellow man more kindly. So tell me, why do you like Christmas stories? Which one is your favorite?
~~Purchase Links~~

12 Days of Christmas ~ Meet Juli D. Revezzo

Writing around the holidays

With the coming of fall, many people look ahead to the holidays. Halloween, Thanksgiving, and the big winter holidays. If you are a writer, or a budding writing, undoubtedly your thoughts are filled with NANOWRIMO this time of year. If you’re a writer who doesn’t wait to subject yourself to that torture, you’re probably thinking of releasing a Christmas tale (or already have), or how to use your writing to fill Christmas lists or what not.

For some writers, you might be struggling with how in the world to fit your writing in around all the family gatherings, the cooking, the celebrating. It shouldn’t be any surprise if you’re a writer, and one who has been doing it for a long time, this might be a concern. In my book, you have two ways to think about the holidays: Either they’ll push you to finish that book and get thinking about it as a new phase for the next year (ie. submitting after the holidays—which I’ve always found is probably best to wait to do; or getting ready to upload to Kindle Publishing/Nook, what-have-you).

(For instance, with my latest two releases, my New Adult Fantasy romance novel, CHANGELING’S CROWN and the short Gothic story “Sing a Mournful Melody”, I see by my files that, yes indeed, they were in editing mode all last November and December)

Either way, you’re probably thinking or at worst, obsessing about your manuscript--if you’re anything like me! Do you take time off, or do you write? Will your Muse walk out on you if you take time out? Will your family roll their eyes if you don’t? This is for you to decide, but for me and my muse, since we have quite a few works in various stages of completion, I know what we’ll be doing over the holidays and I guess you know what I’ll want in my Christmas stocking….coffee! ;) Merry Christmas to you all, and happy new writing!

If you’d like to check out my latest two releases here are their synopses:

Sing a Mournful Melody

Genre: Gothic, Short story; setting: circa 1901

At the turn of the 20th century, tragedy has left Maribelle grief-stricken. After her beloved husband is murdered, his body disappears from his crypt. Worse, ghostly voices call from the widow's Graphophone. Is she losing her mind, or does something wicked this way come?

If you’d like Sing a Mournful Melody for your Christmas Kindles, it’s available at: Amazon


Changeling's Crown

Genre: New Adult Fantasy Romance; setting present day

When Ianthe began her career as a faery godmother, she stumbled so badly that Snow White will probably never speak to her again. After a long suspension, she's finally been given a chance to redeem herself...but everything on this latest assignment is going wrong.

But why?

Worse, she definitely doesn't need an attractive mortal man distracting her from her duties. Of course, needs and wants are two different things.

Briak has had his eye on Ianthe for a very, very long time, but he's been waiting for just the right moment to make his move. Despite the fact all hell's about to break loose on his watch, he can't resist the opportunity to insert himself into her earthly assignment. Can he convince Ianthe of her true calling and thereby win her heart? Or will his subterfuge ultimately cost him her love?

If you’d like to check it out, CHANGELING’S CROWN is available at:

Amazon | B&N | Smashwords | Paperback

I hope you enjoy them. :-) Thanks so much for having me here, Mia and to you, and your readers, happy holidays!

About the Author

Juli D. Revezzo is a Florida girl with a love of speculative and romantic fiction and legend, and loves writing stories with all kinds of fantastical elements. Aside from her New Adult debut Changeling's Crown, she is the author of the Antique Magic paranormal mystery series and many short stories. She is also a member of the Independent Author Network and the Magic Appreciation Tour. To learn more about her current and future releases, visit her at:

Good Reads:
Twitter: @julidrevezzo
Newsletter signup at:

Tuesday, 9 December 2014

12 Days of Christmas ~ Meet d. Nichole King

Hey everyone! Thanks for stopping by today. This 12 Days of Christmas event is super awesome!

Let me introduce myself. I’m d. Nichole King, and I write books. LOL! And obviously I’m a dork because I just laughed at my own joke. I hope you enjoy the quick overview of my books below, and I’d love to connect with you, so make sure you check out my social media links below. Have fun!


The Spirit (Spirit Trilogy, #1)
The Spirit (Spirit Trilogy #1) -- YA

Carrie Reese doesn’t believe in ghosts—until she falls in love with one.

From the moment he walks through the door, a cool breeze surrounds Carrie. She knows Lucas is too good to be true...and he is. Because he’s dead.

Devastated over her parents’ divorce, 17 year-old Carrie is spending the summer with her grandparents in Villisca—the creepiest town in Iowa. Even though it makes her skin crawl, Carrie doesn’t regard the haunting of the infamous Moore House to be anything more than superstition.

Lucas, however, knows exactly why the mysterious farmhouse should be avoided. But that’s not what brings him to town. As a ghost, he cannot cross over into the afterlife until he finds his soul, and there’s someone in Villisca who can help. Instead, he finds Carrie. And there’s something about her that draws him in. Why didn’t he find her sooner? Like, when he was alive?

When the force of their love disrupts the containment spell around the Moore House, the rift to Hell inside the attic opens, releasing the demons. Since love isn’t meant to be shared between the living and the dead, the demons target the lovers, intent on dragging them to where their souls will face eternal destruction.

Sometimes there’s more at risk than merely dying.

Interview with Mike Carson:

Hi Mike! Thanks for joining me today!

Yeah, I appreciate the opportunity.

How about we start with an overview? Tell us about yourself.

Um, yeah, okay. I’ve lived in Villisca my whole life—all of seventeen years. My dad owns a ranch, so sometimes I give horseback riding lessons. I play football for the Villisca Blue Jays in the fall, and I wrestle in the winter. I’m not that great of a student, so I’m hoping to get a football scholarship.

You’re that good?

I’m decent, I guess.

What did you think of Carrie when you first met her?

Honestly, she wasn’t what I expected. Rob had told me she’d be coming for the summer, and that her parents were getting a divorce. By the way he talked, I didn’t figure Carrie would be handling it well. She confirmed my suspicions at dinner, when she barely said anything, but then, in the barn, it’s like she came alive.

You like her, don’t you?

(Laughs) Yeah, well, you’re not wrong.

What’s stopping you?

Other than Lucas, nothing.

Then where does that leave you two?

Smack-dad in the middle of friend zone. Sucks.

But you two did go to the Moore House together.

There’s some freaky shit going on in there. (Oh, can I swear? Sorry.) Man, the whole time outside, she shook like something had her scared to death. Then we walked inside, and this cold breeze ran past us, and she relaxed. Just like that. Until we got to the attic. Then all Hell broke loose. She started to sweat and whimper, then she screamed. It didn’t last long, but when I rushed her outside, her palms were bleeding from where she’d dug her nails into the skin. She said she was fine; I didn’t believe her.

What do you think spooked her?

Well, you know the place is haunted, right? Personally, I think the children are stuck in there with their killer—whoever it is. And I wonder if Carrie heard something. The attic is the place where they say the killer hid until the family went to bed.

You believe in ghosts?

Most definitely. There’s something in that house.

What’s your biggest fear?

That none of this is real, like the Matrix.

Last question: Can you tell our readers a secret? Something about you they’d never guess.

I’m a sucker for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Buy: Amazon


The Body (Spirit Trilogy, #2)The Body (Spirit Trilogy #2) -- YA

They vowed to never return.

Their lives depend on it. With last summer behind them, Lucas and Carrie think they’re safe.

Only the Moore House isn’t through with them.
When Lucas receives bad news, the search for the elusive half-demon who holds the key to Lucas’s death becomes first priority. The creature might be Lucas’s only shot at finding his soul. Problem is he doesn’t want to be found.

Dead ends and blocked attempts leave them wary.
Lucas seems to be fading away. His eyes no longer glow, his skin pales. Exhaustion consumes him, leaving him distant when he’s with Carrie. Not knowing what’s happening to him kills her.

From all around, shadows creep in, and there’s nowhere to hide.

Then, a mysterious stranger suddenly appears in town and unlocks a deadly secret from Lucas’s past. When the Moore House becomes their only escape—

No one is safe.

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Love Always, Kate (Love Always #1) --NA
Love Always, Kate (Love Always, #1)
Dear Diary,

Leukemia’s been my life since I was eleven. Now, six years later, I want my life back. Only I’m not sure what that is.

The test results came back today. 22,000. Which means I’m officially out of remission—again.

I have three options:
1. Another round of chemo.
2. A super-new experimental drug.
3. Dump it all— forget the meds and treatments and enjoy the time I have left.

I think I know what I want.

Then, in walks Damian, changing everything.
I mean, everything.

He’s got his own set of issues. It binds us together, you know? We understand what it’s like to lose what matters most in seconds.

Still, the last thing I need is to have someone else to crush if I can’t fight hard enough. And the last thing he needs is someone else to grieve.

Never mind. I’m down to two options now.

Somehow I know that whichever one I choose, the result will be the same. With the sand in my hourglass seeping to the bottom, I hope there’s enough left to show Damian that life’s worth living. Worth fighting for.

Worth dying for.

Love Always,

Interview with Kate Browdy:

Thanks for joining me today, Kate.

You’re welcome!

You are so young, yet you’ve already been through so much. How do you cope with it all?
First of all I have amazing parents. They did their research, they went to support groups, they found Dr. Lowell and moved us to Iowa so I could be under his care. He’s one of the best.

Then I have my diary. During my first treatment, when I was eleven, someone told Mom how much keeping one helped other patients. When she gave it to me, I eagerly began to write in it. It became my safe place, my hiding place.

Have you ever let anyone read it?
No, never. It’s too personal. Everything I’ve ever felt, my fears, my dreams, everything is in there.

This is your third relapse. Is this time any different?
In terms of the leukemia, not really. I’m on a more potent chemotherapy drug, but other than that, it’s the same process as before. The biggest difference this time is that I feel like I’ve missed out on so much of life. Like, unintentionally, I’ve let the disease control me instead of the other way around.

Is that where Damian comes in?
(Smiles) Yeah, I guess. The first thing you notice about him is how gorgeous he is. Oh, and the dimples. Then you look into his eyes, and realize that there’s something dark behind them. Life hasn’t been kind to him either, and he lets it get to him. At first, I thought I could fix him, but in reality, he fixed me.

Oh that’s so romantic!
He is, especially when he’s not trying. And when he is, I know it’s because he wants everything to be perfect for me. We never know how long we have with the people we love. That’s something Damian understands well.

He’s your doctors’ son. Is that weird at all?
Sort of. At first it was, anyway. I mean, he snuck into his dad’s office and checked out my medical file! He’s got ways of finding stuff out. I’ve always known Dr. Lowell as Dr. Lowell, the doctor. It never dawned on me that he was also Jackson Lowell, the father. They’re different people.

What has this whole experience taught you?
That life is short. Short and beautiful. And even though it might hurt sometimes, that doesn’t make life any less special.

Thanks for sharing your story with us.

My pleasure.

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D. Nichole King

Since I was born and raised in Iowa, I like to create stories where my home state is the setting. There's nothing like small-town Midwest scenery to create the perfect backdrop for an amazing tale!
I've always loved to read and write. I'll read anything: Classics, fantasy, contemporary, mystery, horror. It doesn't matter as long as it draws me in. As a kid, I was raised on authors such as Lurlene McDaniel, R.L. Stine, Danielle Steele, Mary Higgins Clark, Stephen King, and Shakespeare.

Writing-wise, my fondness lies in the YA/NA genre, though I do have a couple of women's fiction stories swimming around in my head.

When not writing, I'm usually curled up with a book, scrapbooking, or doing yet another load of laundry.

Along with her incredible husband, I live in small-town Iowa with my four adorable (yet ornery) children and their dog, Peaches.

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