Rave Reviews Book Club- join me for some fun

Forgot to add link to join instantly Blog Recruitment Day Voting Link

http://wp.me/P49Fi9-GG

lightningbooksbyagmoye

 It is now 2015 and time to spread the word about an organization that will help us authors to get the word about our books out and build our brand. There is a membership fee but it is so low most everyone can afford it. Drop by and tell them A.G. Moye sent you. Below is a sample of the kind of support a writer can get along with their #PushTuesday program that is conducted on twitter. This is their spotlight posting. You can not get better support than this, remember A.G. Moye recommended you and have a great time.

Spotlight on Kathryn Biel

 “SPOTLIGHT” AUTHOR
KATHRYN BIEL       
Telling stories of resilient women, Kathryn Biel hails from upstate New York and is a spouse and mother of two wonderful and energetic kids. In between being Chief Home Officer and Director of Child Development of the…

View original post 148 more words

Advertisements

Rave Reviews Book Club- join me for some fun

 It is now 2015 and time to spread the word about an organization that will help us authors to get the word about our books out and build our brand. There is a membership fee but it is so low most everyone can afford it. Drop by and tell them A.G. Moye sent you. Below is a sample of the kind of support a writer can get along with their #PushTuesday program that is conducted on twitter. This is their spotlight posting. You can not get better support than this, remember A.G. Moye recommended you and have a great time.

Spotlight on Kathryn Biel

 “SPOTLIGHT” AUTHOR
KATHRYN BIEL       
Telling stories of resilient women, Kathryn Biel hails from upstate New York and is a spouse and mother of two wonderful and energetic kids. In between being Chief Home Officer and Director of Child Development of the Biel household, she works as a school-based physical therapist. She attended Boston University and received her Doctorate in Physical Therapy from The Sage Colleges. After years of writing countless letters of medical necessity for wheelchairs, finding increasingly creative ways to encourage the government and insurance companies to fund her clients’ needs, and writing entertaining annual Christmas letters, she decided to take a shot at writing the kind of novel that she likes to read. Her musings and rants can be found on her personal blog, Biel Blather. She is the author of Good Intentions (2013), Hold Her Down(2014), I’m Still Here (2014), Jump, Jive, and Wail (2015), and Fly Robin Fly, a short story (part of Cupid on the Loose: A Valentine’s Anthology 2015).
    *****
Drop by and check Kathryn’s book, I think you will enjoy it. Talk back, I’m listening!

Cover Reveal – The Tramp by Sarah Wathen

Take a Look at the Beautiful Cover for 
The Tramp



TitleThe Tramp (The Bound Chronicles Book 1)
 
GenreMystery, Thriller &Suspense  > Supernatural > Fantasy > Paranormal & Urban 
 
Author: Sarah Wathen
 
Cover: Sarah Wathen
 
Release DateApril 13, 2015



 
Book Description
When John was seven, he found Candy dancing in the neighboring yard wearing a yellow polka-dot bikini and red rain galoshes, splashing and dancing and singing at the top of her lungs. She saved his throat from getting ripped out by her grandma’s guard dog. Good thing she did, too. It was John who raised the alarm that day, when the man who smiled with his mouth but not his eyes drove off with Candy in a cloud of dust. The police stopped whatever might have happened next in a seedy motel—a place Candy doesn’t dare remember. John rescued her, creating a bond between two friends strong enough to awaken…something.

Years later, John and Candy begin to suspect something more sinister lurking amidst the days of football glory and the nights of clandestine rendezvous. John discovers disturbing symbols from the ancient tribes indigenous to the area in his history textbook, in a local cave system, and in his very dreams. Candy uncovers a family history that is more colorful than she knew. If shades of black are colorful.
If only the two friends could foresee the danger looming before them. For another something, one much more dangerous than the first, is waking up to continue the cycle.

Murder forces everyone out of sunny valley torpor, and Candy realizes that more than acquaintance connects her with the killer. When a corpse is found, gutted as if for ritual, she knows that whatever evil has overtaken her hometown is moving forward. She will have to exorcise the haunting herself—though she has no idea how—and she will need John’s predestined help to do it. Candy will have to face the memories of that seedy motel room first. At least she finally understands the power she never knew she had—a link to her departed mother and a line of healers shrouded in pre-history.

About the Author

 



Sarah Wathen is an artist turned author. She was trained in Classical Painting at the University of Central Florida, and received her Master’s in Fine Art from Parsons School of Design in New York City. If Florida was where she discovered her passion, New York was the place she found her voice. “Writing a book was my obvious next step, once I realized I’d been trying to tell stories with pictures for years,” she says about transitioning from visual artist to novelist. “Painting with words is even more fun than painting with oil.” Sarah lives in Florida with her husband, son, and at least a dozen imaginary friends from her novels. A painter at heart, her books incorporate art judicially, both in narrative content and supporting materials. Her characters are derived from the people and places that have influenced her own life—at least one beloved pet makes it into every book—but the stories they live will take you places you have never imagined, and won’t want to leave.

 talk back, we’re listening

Finally caught up

f5c9c-dec2b302c2b20142b113a513a342bamFinally after being gone away from the computer for two weeks, I have caught up on everything except the promotions group on Google. I just started reading or deleting them. I find it strange that it took longer to catch up than I had been gone. How is everyone doing? . I am writing a quick blog to check on you all. Talk back, I’m listening and hope you had a great week. Just think, the weekend is just around the corner. Talk back.

Garden by Jane Yates -Book Tour-Guest post

BB S1 jane-yates-profile-pic

I am please to host Jane Yates’s Garden book tour.

 ‘Garden is very charming with some lovely parallels …’ Sharon Sant – Author of The Sky Song trilogy

Inspired by the classic novel The Secret Garden, Jane Yates introduces us to a steampunk world of bio-domes, robots and mysteries. Eleven-year-old Aberdeen is so used to being by herself that all she has to fill her thoughts are stories of mighty dragons and grand castles. But Aberdeen’s world is soon thrown into disarray however; her parents murdered.

Having no choice, Aberdeen is sent to live with her uncle back on Earth where her fascination into her new surroundings begin to take hold. It isn’t long before Aberdeen befriends three other children – Maisy, Peter and Lenard.

Oh, and there’s Frank too, Peter’s robot dog, who completes this special circle of friendship.

Garden is a journey of self-discovery, of trials and friendship. With adventure boundless, Jane Yates follows up her acclaimed Paradox Child trilogy with a new tale for young fans of steampunk and science fiction.

Praise for Garden

‘Garden is very charming with some lovely parallels …’  – Sharon Sant – Author of The Sky Song trilogy

‘This is an absolutely lovely story with a really intriguing mystery …’ – Jaimie Admans – Author of Afterlife Academy

‘Garden made me smile from start to finish.’ – Dan Thompson – Author of Here Lies Love

‘Jane Yates has written a wonderful story of self-growth, courage and learning how to love.’ – Book Raiders Blog

jane-yates-profile-pic-4

Jane lives in the historic city of Oxford, England with her two spaniels. She works at the Pitt Rivers museum there too and is amazed and inspired by its wondrous array of objects. Being a museum of anthropology and world archaeology, Jane often finds herself influenced by its exhibitions. And indeed it has helped Jane write a trilogy for children – the Paradox Child series.

Jane is not only a mother, artist and storyteller, but dyslexic too, which only highlights her success even more. Jane refuses to allow the disorder to halt her dreams and continues to enjoy her favourite hobbies. Jane is a lover of steampunk, adventure and children’s stories, which often play a huge role in her own books.

Garden Cover

CHAPTER 1

 Left Alone

Deep in space, Aberdeen sat on a balcony overlooking a grand party her mother hosted. Everyone wore their finest clothes. The music was loud; a type of remixed jazz. Aberdeen searched her mother out among the crowd of guests. Upon spotting her, she gazed at her mother’s attire; a long silk dress, the colour of shock blue. This was matched by elaborate feathers and sparkling jewels that hung in her blue hair. Her mother’s hair swung down her back, which highlighted her large dragon tattoo. Aberdeen eyed the lead in her mother’s hand and followed it to the golden robot dog sat beside her. It was tall and thin, and even from where Aberdeen sat, she could see the cogs moving inside it as if it had a tiny heart beating.

Aberdeen’s mother laughed gaily. She had the full attention of a young officer with braided hair, who was smartly dressed in his green and gold uniform. As he chuckled along, his head dropped back and a cool thin line of rose-smelling cigarette smoke slid from the corner of his mouth.

Aberdeen continued to watch the party from above. As usual, there was no sign of her father; probably in the engine room of the ship, she guessed. She browsed at all the fresh fruit and flowers in the tall bowls and glasses decorating the table. She knew that they had been picked up the last time the ship had docked at one of the satellite stations. She had learnt that the fragrant, exotic flowers had been grown in large artificial garden domes and she longed to see one.

She looked down in awe at the musicians. A large man sat at a glass piano, his fingers elegantly flitting from key to key. Aberdeen could see his fat belly though through the transparent top of the piano; it wobbled tastelessly as he played, a huge contrast to his regal demeanour. Aberdeen also noticed a tall, skinny man, strumming a black shinny double base and three female trumpeters who all wore brown and white stripy suits.

Draped from the metallic ceiling were candle-shaped lights, and in between them dancers gambolled on trapeze ropes. They wore porcelain masks and flamboyantly displayed peacock feathers, midnight blue and jade green, in their hair. They matched the rhythm of the quintet perfectly, Aberdeen thought.

The floor was polished to a high shine and Aberdeen could see the refection of the sociable people in it. In the corner of the room was an old gentleman who caught Aberdeen’s interest. Upon his head was a black top hat and he rested a glass monocle on his eye, which magnified his golden brown iris so even Aberdeen could see. His long twisting moustache made Aberdeen giggle.

There were no children however, and Aberdeen wondered what the workers’ children were up to. She suddenly felt quite alone.

Aberdeen picked up some of the plastic cocktail sticks that had been dropped on the floor; planting them along the edge of the balcony and playfully imagining them growing into amazing flowers. She soon tired of the game and thought about going downstairs to join the party, but knew that her mother would not be pleased; her mother felt that children should be seen but not heard and, where possible, not seen at all. Her mother had not wanted children. Aberdeen knew she hadn’t been planned and her mother, a socialite, did not have time for her, nor did she wish for her daughter to mix with the other children on the ship, as these were the workers’ children. The elite children had been shipped off to boarding school, but Aberdeen had not settled in well there and caused fights with the other children. She was returned to her parents in disgrace.
Aberdeen had wanted to play with the ship workers’ children, but her mother, on one of her brief and rare visits to see her daughter, told her horrid stories about them. “They have revolting lice in their hair,” she had said, and “Do you want them to jump at you and bite you?”

So instead Aberdeen spent all her time in the company of her robot nanny; her Guardian. Her Guardian was programed to do whatevershe wanted, as long as it did not disturb the child’s parents. It was efficient but uncaring, which had led partly to Aberdeen becoming the same way. The Guardian was responsible for her education too and arranged her meals and even dressed her. It was also programmed to tell stories. The wondrous tales and adventures of frightful dragons and grand castles were her favourite and she would spend her time imagining dragons flying around her room acting out her own brave endeavours.

Early the next morning, Aberdeen awoke thinking she had heard screams and cries for help. Frightened, she locked her door and snuggled tightly underneath her covers. The thick duvet muffled the cries from outside, and before long, she had drifted back to sleep.

When she awoke some hours later, having convinced herself that the commotion from the night before had been a terrible nightmare, she opened her door and sat on her bed waiting for her Guardian. Minutes later, it still hadn’t appeared.

Aberdeen browsed her room to pass more time; it was only fair she allowed her Guardian a little extra before she left the room. Her room was plain compared with the lavish party setting of downstairs, although she knew she could have it decorated any way she desired. She chose to not have a lot. What she liked doing the most was playing with her robot snake. Aberdeen was content with her few intimate toys rather than having extravagant playthings she had no need of. She had books, but she preferred to be read to. The furniture was clinical white, undecorated and simplistic in design. Everything served a purpose and there wasn’t even a carpet on the floor, just white lino. There were pictures on the wall, but none that she had chosen, as if put there by someone who had no knowledge of her at all.

She suddenly remembered the soft toys she once had, which consisted mostly of dragons, but they had been stored away when she had been sent off to school. Her mother, still angry at Aberdeen’s quick return, as if she was but a nuisance, had not retrieved them yet. She much preferred her robot snake anyway.

Aberdeen felt herself becoming increasingly frustrated; why wasn’t her Guardian coming to dress her? She wasn’t used to waiting. When the rage become too much, Aberdeen jumped and stamped her feet screaming for the Guardian to come. When it still hadn’t arrived, she sulked down the hallway until she came to the balcony. All the food and glasses were still left set out, but there wasn’t anyone around. Aberdeen descended the staircase and quickly snatched some of the food. On her way back to her room, she grabbed an opened bottle of wine.

As she crossed the polished floor however, she froze and looked at her sad reflection. Her plain looks gave way to a sour jawline, giving the impression that she rarely smiled. In truth, Aberdeen realised that she hardly did. Her shapeless chestnut hair appeared dull. She looked as far away from the fashionable figure of her mother. Her words rung in her mind.

Spoilt, bad tempered little child!

Aberdeen promptly scooted back to her room. Perhaps her Guardian had arrived.

Aberdeen was furious to find it hadn’t. She slid her food underneath her bed and squeezed under herself, thinking mean thoughts. She ate some of the food and sipped the wine, which made her sleepy. Eventually, not realising how long had passed, and getting rather bored, she played with her small robot snake. She built high obstacles out of plastic bricks for it to slither around. She tried to imagine that the snake was a dragon from one of her stories and that the bricks were castles. When she had drained the wine however, Aberdeen soon found herself slipping into a slumber.

But when she awoke, her angry temperament hadn’t left her. Where was her Guardian?

Just then, outside her bedroom door she heard two muffled grown-up voices.

“It’s a shame; she was beautiful, taken in the prime of her life,” the first voice said.

“She was a mother too,” the second voice replied.  “I hear she had a child, a girl, although nobody ever really saw her.”

Aberdeen got out from under her bed and opened the door. She frowned at two officers who were stood in the hallway wearing gas masks.

“Oh, look, Barnabas, there’s a child here, alone in a place like this!” one of them said, pointing and grabbing another mask from his bag which was slung over his shoulder.

“Who is she?” the second offer asked.

“I’m Aberdeen Gale,” Aberdeen introduced herself, pulling herself up as tall as she could and staring at them both.

“Oh, this must be the girl no one ever saw. Poor thing, she must have been forgotten,” the first officer said, holding out the mask for her to put on. Aberdeen glared at the mask; it was a strange shape, light brown in colour with two round windows for eyes. She spotted a dull copper filter hanging from it. The gas mask itself could have been really old if it not for the fact that there was a green triangular light flashing on it.

“I don’t like it!” Aberdeen shouted, folding her arms across her body and scowling at the men.

“Oh, the poor thing, she’s frightened,” Barnabas said, a hint of patronisation in his voice.

“I’m not poor at all,” Aberdeen snapped. “My father is in charge of the ship. I need you to take me to him at once as my robot has not come for me.”

Barnabas knelt down next to Aberdeen. “You poor child,” he said softly. “Everyone is dead. There was a distress signal, which we picked up.” He helped her to put on the gas mask.

Aberdeen could not believe what she was hearing. She tugged at the gas mask, rearranging its strange structure. It felt heavy on her face and it made her want to itch her skin. Barnabas offered her a smile. He looked to his colleague for support, who continued to talk as if Aberdeen was invisible.

“Maybe the girl survived as she leads a solitary existence? Well, that will have to change now.”

Barnabas continued to smile at her.

“You must come with us, my girl,” the other officer instructed, holding his hand out to Aberdeen. “We need to take you off this ship and back to a halfway station for quarantine. Juno is probably the nearest one.”

“Your robot is not coming,” Barnabas told her as if he had sensed her thoughts. “All the worker robot signals were shut down when the distress signal was issued.”

Aberdeen glared at him, “I don’t believe you!”

“It’s true,” Barnabas said. “It’s part of the fail safe protocol. When the distress signal is sent it allows for every eventuality, even robot attack, so it shuts them down.”

Aberdeen stood still, her mind racing, she did not know what to do.

“It was some sort of virus,” Barnabas continued. “We are not sure of all the facts as yet, but from what we can piece together it looks as if one of the crew members released a fast acting, deadly virus as a grudge. We suspect a chemist.”

Aberdeen must have looked blankly at him, as he continued. “We were on our way to arrest him anyway. He had been developing new Class A drugs and had become paranoid.”

Aberdeen took a step backwards unsure to believe them or not. She wasn’t quite sure what ‘Class A’ drugs were, but she definitely didn’t like the sound of them.

The other officer said, “Look, we haven’t got time for this. We need to get you off this ship; it’s going to be decommissioned.”

Aberdeen ran back into her room and scooped up her snake and placed it in her pocket, then followed the two officers along the corridor and away from the only home she had ever known.

Text copyright © Jane Yates 2015

Garden Cover

Jane Yates Links –

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jane-Yates/689082927842499

Twitter – https://twitter.com/JYparadoxchild

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7162069.J_Yates

Garden Links –

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/GardenNovel

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23294980-garden

Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00PAYYK3E/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B00PAYYK3E&linkCode=as2&tag=danthom-20&linkId=WO4VVE33IEHPWOBW

Amazon UK –http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00PAYYK3E/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=6738&creativeASIN=B00PAYYK3E&linkCode=as2&tag=danthom-21&linkId=3IAPVE54LBYJ5R3D

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/496280?ref=AutumnOrchard

Book Depository – http://www.bookdepository.com/Garden-Jane-Yates/9780993023927?a_aid=dan_pentagram

Kobo – https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/garden-7

B&N – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/garden-jane-yates/1120923206?ean=9780993023927

Nook UK – http://www.nook.com/gb/ebooks/garden-by-jane-yates/2940046457278

Youtube Trailer Link – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ACQSVhtXpAo

Autumn Orchard Links –

Facebook – http://facebook.com/autumnorchardbooks

Twitter – http://twitter.com/autumnorchardbk

Website – http://autumnorchardbooks.wordpress.com

Hope you enjoy this blog post, remember Talk Back, I’m listening and feel free to follow this blog at your leisure. Have a great weekend.

What’s your opinion of book reviews? Should authors review? Please readers, don’t be shy!

As an author, I try to be honest and fair in my reviews of others work. I find this very truthful.

Just Olga

Hi all:

I’ve read and heard a variety of arguments on the subject or reviews. Much advice to authors focuses on the need to obtain reviews, on how important they are, on professional reviews (yes, because scandals apart, there are places, Kirkus reviews to name one of the best known, for example, that provide reviews for money, but we’re talking about honest, unbiased reviews, so as an author you might be in the weird situation of paying to get something bad said about you…hey, one can get that for free!), on bloggers who provide reviews, on methods to try and get reviews even before the book is finished (the famous ARC or ‘advance review copy’) as sales seem somehow linked to reviews. (It’s a bit of a catch 22 situations. Like trying to get a job on something you’ve never worked on before. Employers want experience and recommendations but…

View original post 1,078 more words

Dementia, thief of the golden years

DEMENTIA, I had heard about it but never knew anyone personally suffering from this thief. That was until my wife’s mother was diagnosed with it. She lives in California so the only contact on a regular basis was through my wife’s sister who sugar coated everything, saying that her eighty year old mother was only slightly forgetful. Near my wife’s birthday, her mother and another sister sent my wife a gift card. My wife called to thank them. My wife’s mother answered the phone and sounded normal until my wife asked for her sister that lived with her. She told her that she didn’t live here and would have to call her. We knew she did, and when her sister came into the room where her mother was sitting and speaking, she asked who she was speaking to? She acted as if the sister had just dropped by for a visit giving her the phone. My wife was devastated when the sister that lives with her told her the truth. Hearing the state of mind that her mother was in, my wife wanted to go to visit her before she forgot who she even was. It had been seven years since they last saw each other. She seemed normal when we arrived in most respects but kept asking the same questions over and over. My wife’s greatest fear happened the second day there when she couldn’t remember who she was calling her, “HER” instead of by her name. When the sister mentioned her name to her mother, her mother said something about having a daughter by that name. Personally, she kept asking me how work went whenever I entered the room, like I lived there and still worked.  Her mother kept packing up to go home, she lived in this home for over fifteen years. Where home was, when we asked, she replied giving different places she lived in during her life. I felt bad living so far away. My wife’s sister has had to carry the burden of tending to her mother on a daily basis. One day the mother is present and the next minute, I don’t know where she is. Her mother keeps falling down and unable to get up. I helped her several times. Finally, she was admitted to the hospital while we were there. They found she had a urinary track infection and was suffering with atrophy as well from not moving very much, that was why she was falling all the time and unable to get up.  Maybe, some day we will find out what causes this and maybe find a solution (prevention) of this problem

Talk back, I’m Listening