HELL HOLES SERIES ~ REVIEW OF BOOK 1 & 2 ~ BLOG TOUR

HELLHOLES FINAL

Blog Tour ~ Hell Holes Series ~ (What Lurks Below & Demons on the Dalton)

Author: Donald G. Firesmith

Genre: Science Fiction /Paranormal/Fantasy

Dates: 11th – 22nd of December

Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

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Blurb:

 

It’s August in Alaska, and geology professor Jack Oswald prepares for the new school year. But when hundreds of huge holes mysteriously appear overnight in the frozen tundra north of the Arctic Circle, Jack receives an unexpected phone call. An oil company exec hires Jack to investigate, and he picks his climatologist wife and two of their graduate students as his team. Uncharacteristically, Jack also lets Aileen O’Shannon, a bewitchingly beautiful young photojournalist, talk him into coming along as their photographer. When they arrive in the remote oil town of Deadhorse, the exec and a biologist to protect them from wild animals join the team. Their task: to assess the risk of more holes opening under the Trans-Alaska Pipeline and the wells and pipelines that feed it. But they discover a far worse danger lurks below. When it emerges, it threatens to shatter Jack’s unshakable faith in science. And destroy us all…

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↓Buy Links↓

 

 

Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/Hell-Holes-What-Lurks-Below-ebook/dp/B012IUE14U

Itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/hell-holes-what-lurks-below/id1076804292

Booklife: http://booklife.com/project/hell-holes-what-lurks-below-12402

Indigo: https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/hell-holes-what-lurks-below/9781310431210-item.html

Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/608355

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Blurb:

When hundreds of huge holes mysteriously appeared overnight inthe frozen tundra north of the Arctic Circle, geologist Jack Oswald picked Angele Menendez, his climatologist wife, to determine if the record temperatures due to climate change was the cause. But the holes were not natural. They were unnatural portals for an invading army of demons. Together with Aileen O’Shannon, a 1,400-year-old sorceress demon-hunter, the three survivors of the research team sent to study the holes had only one chance: to flee down the dangerous Dalton Highway towards the relative safety of Fairbanks. However, the advancing horde of devils, imps, hellhounds, and gargoyles will stop at nothing to prevent their prey from escaping. It is a 350-mile race with simple rules. Win and live; lose and die…

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Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Hell-Holes-Demons-Donald-Firesmith-ebook/dp/B01FQA1EFI

Booklife: https://booklife.com/my/project/hell-holes-demons-on-the-dalton-12403

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/625752

Itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/hell-holes-demons-on-dalton/id1097614941

Donald

Author Bio:

 


A geek by day, Donald Firesmith works as a system and software engineer helping the US Government acquire large, complex software-intensive systems. In this guise, he has authored seven technical books, written numerous software- and system-related articles and papers, and spoken at more conferences than he can possibly remember. He’s also proud to have been named a Distinguished Engineer by the Association of Computing Machinery, although his pride is tempered somewhat by his fear that the term “distinguished” makes him sound like a graybeard academic rather than an active engineer whose beard is still slightly more red than gray.

By night and on weekends, his alter ego writes modern paranormal fantasy, apocalyptic science fiction, action and adventure novels and relaxes by handcrafting magic wands from various magical woods and mystical gemstones. His first foray into fiction is the book Magical Wands: A Cornucopia of Wand Lore written under the pen name Wolfrick Ignatius Feuerschmied. He lives in Crafton, Pennsylvania with his wife Becky, and his son Dane, and varying numbers of dogs, cats, and birds.

His magical wands and autographed copies of his books are available from the Firesmith’s Wand Shoppe at http://magicalwandshoppe.com.

Visit him at:

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BOOK TRAILER: https://youtu.be/amXuTAlKoX0

review

 

Hell Holes ~ What Lurks Below
5-star Review

This book right off the bat reminded me of “The day after tomorrow & war of the worlds” It just had that feel to it and I love both these films.
We all just might get to see Hell Holes on the big screen. Right now scriptwriters are working on it, you can read the first chapter on Donald Firesmith’s website.

I have read the script also it does vary from the book and I can’t say which one I like more as both to me are great. The premise, of course, is the same, its small details minor character changes but overall the same amazing story.
I’m not great when it comes to science or climate change topics, but the way Mr. Firesmith explains the earths movements and reasoning’s for the large holes to open up made sense, and I felt a little more educated. Not that any reason was able to explain the hell holes but the group discussing their theories and then showing the holes within in that theory, I really liked.
I did feel that the start was like real life per say, and the second half was fantasy, magic, and monsters. But it worked very well, the only downside to the whole book was the ending it was a huge cliffhanger so now I’m off to buy book two, to see what happens. I do feel that the second book will be more on the fantasy side than the first, but I will have to wait and see.

Overall a fast and exciting read that I would recommend to all fantasy and sci-fi readers.

 

Hell Holes ~ Demons on the Dalton (Book Two)
5-star Review
We all just might get to see Hell Holes on the big screen. Right now scriptwriters are working on it, you can read the first chapter on Donald Firesmith’s website.

Demons on the Dalton picks right up where “What Lurks Below” left off. There is a difference this time as the book is told through the eyes of Angela Jacks wife, instead of Jack himself At first I wasn’t sure but once I started to read, the story took over and Angela in a sense was as good as her husband.

Book Two is faster than book one, and we get to see more demons and the exact scale of things. Most of the book is staged on the Dalton but it doesn’t take away from the story at all. The danger element is always there and one scene that I found to be written exceptionally well was when they were driving through a wall of fire. I could almost feel the heat while reading it.

Mr Firesmith has a way of not just telling a story but educating us also, which is something I loved. Aileen as always is amazing and we get to learn more about her own secret society and the demons.
The ending isn’t the cliffhanger that book one was, but I wanted book three even more then I had wanted book two because of the way it ends and I really can’t wait to get to read it.

Overall a fast and exciting read that I would recommend to all fantasy and sci-fi readers.

 

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Blog Tour ~ Beyond Death ~ Review

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Blog Tour ~ Beyond Death
Author: Deb McEwan
Genre: Supernatural/Suspense
Dates: 22nd of May ~ 2nd of June
Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

Beyond Death

Blurb:
What really happens when we die? Twenty-something Claire Sylvester is about to find out.
The morning after the best night of her life she is taken before her time.
Claire is suspended in her mysterious new world. She watches as the secret lives of those she loves unravels, and sadistic villains are punished on the road to their own personal hell.
All the while a higher authority ponders her ultimate fate.
More than Claire knows depends on her actions and those of the unlikely partner who accompanied her on her journey.
What will be her final destination?
Beyond Death – a supernatural thriller of love and loss, deceit and revenge, with a little romance and humour.

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Buy Links:

Amazon.com ~ https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Death-Afterlife-Supernatural-Suspense-ebook/dp/B00KYTR3A2

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Author Bio:
Following thirty odd years in the British Army, Deb and her husband Allan decided to become weather refugees and settle in Cyprus.
Throughout her life Deb has dabbled with writing. Her first book was ‘Reindeer Dreams’ – a quirky rhyming Christmas story for children featuring Barry the reindeer and his family. Her first grown-up books about aliens and unearthly spiders could be explained as off the wall. The Afterlife trilogy came next with a few ‘Jason the Penguin’ books in between.
The first book in the current series ‘Unlikely Soldiers’, is set in 1970s Britain, with others to follow through the decades.
Deb now spends her time writing, working part-time, avoiding housework and playing tour guide along with Allan. She tries to keep the pounds off by playing netball and long-distance walking.
Visit her at:

Website: https://debmcewansbooksandblogs.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/debbie.mcewan.7
Twitter: https://twitter.com/deb_mcewan
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Deb-McEwan/e/B00LMBED2C

 

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Review for Beyond Death

Rating: 5 stars

 

 

I always love a story that shows us the afterlife. It’s exciting and it’s like someone allows you to see around the bend without going around it. Well beyond death doesn’t disappoint.

 

It’s written in third person, for me I do love first person but I understand why the author wrote beyond death in third person. The story is told mostly through the eyes of Ron & Claire both killed in a car accident. For Claire it wasn’t her time but the angels can’t put her back so she stays in Limbo with Ron until they decide if she should go to heaven or hell. In the meantime Claire and Ron get to visit earth as often as they like.

This part of the story I loved. I think its human nature to wonder when you die who would go to your funeral?  who cries for you? Imagine actually getting to see it all. Claire and Ron do but with it comes secrets they never knew and revelations that shake them. We see how so many things are connected and how one action has a knock on effect. How each choice we make has a consequence whether it be good or bad.

 

This story made me think about life and regrets and getting to do things over again. It visits the idea of rebirth along with heaven and Hell. We see the good and evil and ones who are remorseful for their actions.

 

But the fun side is how Ron & Claire get to play detective and alter their families’ lives from the grave. How sometimes when you think someone had to have been watching over you, to survive somethings in life, well maybe someone was. I hope the duo will continue  to work together, in book two. 🙂

 

Overall this was a very unique story that was easy to read. While it will make you think about life it will also entertain.

 

 

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Hell Holes Series ~ Blog Tour ~ Excerpt

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Blog Tour ~ Hell Holes Series ~ (What Lurks Below & Demons on the Dalton)
Author: Donald G. Firesmith
Genre: Science Fiction /Paranormal/Fantasy
Dates: 1st – 12th of May
Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

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Blurb:

When hundreds of huge holes mysteriously appear overnight in the frozen tundra north of the Arctic Circle, they threaten financial and environmental catastrophe should any more open up under the Trans-Alaska Pipeline or any of the many oil wells and smaller pipelines that feed it. An oil company sends a scientific team to investigate. But when the geologist, his climatologist wife, two of their graduate students, a local newspaper reporter, an oil company representative, and a field biologist arrive at one of the holes, they discover a far worse danger lurks below, one that threatens to destroy all of humanity when it emerges, forcing the survivors to flee south towards Fairbanks.

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↓Buy Links↓

Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/Hell-Holes-What-Lurks-Below-ebook/dp/B012IUE14U

Itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/hell-holes-what-lurks-below/id1076804292

Booklife: http://booklife.com/project/hell-holes-what-lurks-below-12402

Indigo: https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/hell-holes-what-lurks-below/9781310431210-item.html

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/608355

hell holes 2.jpg

Blurb:

When hundreds of huge holes mysteriously appeared overnight in the frozen tundra north of the Arctic Circle, geologist Jack Oswald picked Angele Menendez, his climatologist wife, to determine if the record temperatures due to climate change was the cause. But the holes were not natural. They were unnatural portals for an invading army of demons. Together with Aileen O’Shannon, a 1,400-year-old sorceress demon-hunter, the three survivors of the research team sent to study the holes had only one chance: to flee down the dangerous Dalton Highway towards the relative safety of Fairbanks. However, the advancing horde of devils, imps, hellhounds, and gargoyles would stop at nothing to prevent their prey from escaping. It was a 350-mile race with simple rules. Win and live; lose and die…

313a6-addtogoodreads

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Hell-Holes-Demons-Donald-Firesmith-ebook/dp/B01FQA1EFI
Booklife: https://booklife.com/my/project/hell-holes-demons-on-the-dalton-12403

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/625752

Itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/hell-holes-demons-on-dalton/id1097614941

donald

Author Bio:

A geek by day, Donald Firesmith works as a system and software engineer helping the US Government acquire large, complex software-intensive systems. In this guise, he has authored seven technical books, written numerous software- and system-related articles and papers, and spoken at more conferences than he can possibly remember. He’s also proud to have been named a Distinguished Engineer by the Association of Computing Machinery, although his pride is tempered somewhat by his fear that the term “distinguished” makes him sound like a graybeard academic rather than an active engineer whose beard is still slightly more red than gray.

By night and on weekends, his alter ego writes modern paranormal fantasy, apocalyptic science fiction, action and adventure novels and relaxes by handcrafting magic wands from various magical woods and mystical gemstones. His first foray into fiction is the book Magical Wands: A Cornucopia of Wand Lore written under the pen name Wolfrick Ignatius Feuerschmied. He lives in Crafton, Pennsylvania with his wife Becky, and his son Dane, and varying numbers of dogs, cats, and birds.

His magical wands and autographed copies of his books are available from the Firesmith’s Wand Shoppe at: http://magicalwandshoppe.com.

Visit him at:

Website: http://donaldfiresmith.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FiresmithAuthorFanPage
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DonFiresmith
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001HQ006A

BOOKTRAILER: https://youtu.be/amXuTAlKoX0

 

excerpt

 

Hell Holes: What Lurks Below

Excerpt In The Hole

“Professor, take a look at this,” Mark said, squatting down and pointing at the nearest mound of dirt. He held his hand a few inches over it. “There are small holes, and I can feel gas escaping from them. That’s weird; it should be freezing, but it’s actually warm.” He leaned over and sniffed the air just above the hole. “Jesus, that reeks,” he cursed as he stood up and rubbed his eyes.

I reached down. There was a surprisingly large flow of gas coming out of the hole. I looked around at all of the other mounds of dirt dotting the ice on which we were standing. “Shit,” I exclaimed. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”

“Why?” he asked with a confused look on his face. “We just got here.”

“Prudhoe Bay natural gas is about three fourths methane. One eighth is ethane, propane, and other heavier hydrocarbons, while the remaining eighth is carbon dioxide. I’m not worried about the methane and ethane; they’re lighter than air and will drift up and out of the hole. But carbon dioxide, propane, and hydrogen sulfide are all heavier than air and build up in low areas.”

“Like the bottom of this hole,” Mark said as the nature of our danger dawned on him.

“Like the bottom of this hole,” I agreed.

Although I was breathing rapidly, it was becoming increasingly harder to catch my breath. Both were early signs of carbon dioxide poisoning. Meanwhile, my eyes were really watering, my nose was running, and my lungs were starting to burn. Hydrogen sulfide combined with the water on their moist surfaces to form hydrosulfuric acid. I had a dull headache and was becoming increasingly nauseated. Worse, the stench of sulfur had begun to disappear: a classic symptom of hydrogen sulfide poisoning. “We have to head back up and strap on oxygen tanks and full face respirators before we come back down.”

“Okay, Professor,” he replied, looking at me with concern. “You’re definitely not looking so good.”

Weak and increasingly clumsy, Mark had to help me reach the rope and secure it to my climbing harness. Then he said into his walkie-talkie, “Angela, there’s hydrogen sulfide and excessive carbon dioxide down here, and we need to get out of here right now. It’s made the professor sick, so I’m sending him up first.”

“Understood, Mark,” Angie replied, her voice indicating her concern. “Is he ready?”

“Yes, all hooked up,” Mark replied.

A second later, the rope began pulling me up. It sped faster and faster until I was practically running up the side of the hole. Soon, I was up to where the permafrost gave way to damp dirt. I slipped going over the boundary, and the rope dragged me face first over the short muddy slope. Bill helped me climb over the ridge of dirt surrounding the edge and unhooked my climbing harness.

Coughing and unable to catch my breath, I stumbled into Angie’s arms. The caustic gasses at the bottom of the pit had set off one of my ordinarily rare asthma attacks, leaving me gasping for air. I fumbled through my pockets, found my rescue inhaler, and had to give myself three puffs before my breathing became easier. Meanwhile, my eyes were still burning and watering so heavily that I heard rather than saw Bill throw the end of the rope back into the pit and use the winch to lower it rapidly into the hole. After helping me wipe the mud from my face, Angie wrapped me a bear hug, totally heedless of the muck she was transferring to her own face and clothes.

“It’s down,” Jill said, her voice amplified through our walkie-talkies.

Bill stopped the winch, and we waited for Mark to tell us when he was ready to come up.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Mark said. “Bring me up.”

Bill restarted the winch, and the rope began winding itself back around its spinning shaft.

Feeling stronger, I let go of Angie and turned back towards the pit so I could watch Mark being raised over the edge. It was at that moment, through eyes still somewhat blurry from tears, that I saw Kowalski. He was standing near the edge of the hole, a few feet downwind so that the smoke from his cigarette wouldn’t bother us. He took a final puff and carelessly flicked the still smoldering butt into the pit.

“Stop!” I croaked, my voice raspy and painful from coughing.

Kowalski turned towards me, and our eyes met. Unaware of what he’d just done, he was completely confused by the expression of horror on my face.

After seconds that seemed to stretch into eternity, the cigarette butt tumbled past Mark and eventually reached the depth where the concentration of methane and hydrogen sulfide reached explosive levels.

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Blog Tour ~ Grimm Remains ~ Excerpt

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Blog Tour ~ Grimm Remains
Author: Eli Celata
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal
Dates: 11th – 21st of April
Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

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Blurb:
Sometimes the fairy tale’s end is just the Grimm beginning.

Mammon’s summoning turned Rochester into a beacon for the denizens of Hell. As demon activity increases, Jon settles in for a new academic year, and Jordan moves in as the city’s protector. Unfortunately, the young warlock of Rochester might not be around long if the Devil’s marine legion has a say. Havfine, demonic mermaids, don’t often leave deep lakes and ocean waters. They’re better known for drowning mortal sailors than hunting magic users, but something has sent them upstream from Lake Ontario. When three orphans vanish from a magical sanctuary in Toronto, their caretaker – the Wizard Monday – dredges up a part of Jordan’s and Jon’s father’s history that Jordan would have rather forgotten. In this race against the Bane of Hamelin, more than three souls may be on the line.

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↓Buy Links↓
https://www.amazon.com/Eli-Celata/e/B01J6S0AY2

Author Bio:

eli-celata

Eli Celata was born in Rochester and is currently attending Binghamton University as a doctoral student.

Author’s Social Media Links:
Twitter: @Celata_E
Website: elicelata.wordpress.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/EliCelata/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Eli-Celata/e/B01J6S0AY2

 

excerpt

I drummed the coin against the table. Three fast, one slow, then repeated. My foot tapped. Jitters ran down my legs, and every few minutes, I’d hold still. Not even a breath would escape. Then I’d begin again. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the sun dip lower, inch by inch, in the sky. It trickled down like a waterfall of gold sinking below the darkening cityscape. The steady warmth of summer faded with each vanishing ray though August – in name alone – would remain for another few days.

“Come on,” I whispered.

The sky shifted. My leg stilled. Metal paused, hanging above then falling to sit against the wood. As the sun fell down below the horizon, the Void Hours came in spades. Evening turned to night inside the bookshop, but I still pressed into the rising tension. A figure shifted down the street, but I kept my eyes straight ahead. The street lights buzzed and flickered on. Lemniscates shimmered over the window panes. From one side of the glass to the next, the sideways figure eights connected one into the next like linked chain. Inhaling, I let my eyes shut as the world hummed around me. Then the angel rang, and the door opened as if by a gust of air. The whole shop stretched out in the same breath and eased back with a sigh as the door locked. Fingers tapped the chalk remnants on the door before unhooking the ringer.

“Jon.”

I smiled, opening my eyes. “Welcome back to the States.”

 

 

 

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Blog Tour ~ Chameleon Assassin ~ With Excerpt

 

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Book Title: Chameleon Assassin

Author Name: B.R. Kingsolver

Genre: Urban Fantasy, science fiction, post-apocalyptic dystopian

Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

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Blurb:

 

Libby is a mutant, one of the top burglars and assassins in the world. For a price, she caters to executives’ secret desires. Eliminate your corporate rival? Deliver a priceless art masterpiece or necklace? Hack into another corporation’s network? Libby’s your girl.

Climate change met nuclear war, and humanity lost. The corporations stepped in, stripping governments of power. Civilization didn’t end, but it became less civilized.

There are few rules as corporations jockey for position and control of assets and markets. The corporate elite live in their walled estates and skyscraper apartments while the majority of humanity supplies their luxuries. On the bottom level, the mutants, the poor, and the criminals scramble every day just to survive.

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↓Buy Links↓

 

Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01N2NVWP5

 

 

 

 

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Author Bio:

I made silver and turquoise jewelry for almost a decade, ended up in nursing school, then took a master’s in business. Along the way I worked in construction, as a newspaper editor, a teacher, and somehow found a career working with computers.

As to my other interests, I love the outdoors, especially the Rocky Mountains. I’ve skied since high school, with one broken leg and one torn ACL to show for it. I’ve hiked and camped all my life. I love to travel, though I haven’t done enough of it. I’ve seen a lot of Russia and Mexico, not enough of England. Amsterdam is amazing, and the Romanian Alps are breathtaking. Lake Tahoe is a favorite, and someday I’d like to see Banff.

For special deals and news about new books, sign up for my newsletter.

http://brkingsolver.us1.list-manage.c…

Visit her at:

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excerpt

 

 

The band was rocking it at The Pinnacle when I heard, “Wanna dance?”

I glanced up, and then up a little more. He was tall, with nice shoulders, and a nice smile.

“Sure.” I stood, watching his face as I rose to my full six feet two inches, plus the heels I was wearing. A lot of men want women shorter than they are. My eyes passed his, and then his followed mine up. I figured if I had been barefoot, we would’ve been about the same height. His smile didn’t falter, and he reached for my hand. Okay! I smiled back.

We sized each other up as we danced. I liked what I saw. Broad shoulders, broad chest, muscular arms. Buzz haircut. A hint of tattoo peeking out from his sleeves and collar. Gold hoop in one ear.

We danced to a couple more songs, then he bought me a drink.

“I’m Ron,” he said as he handed me a glass with something orangish in it.

“Libby.”

“You’re hot.”

“Thanks.” I motioned toward the stage. “I’m going home with her tonight.”

He puckered his lips, then took a drink. “You always swing that way?”

“I swing all sorts of ways. Mostly I don’t swing at all. I’m kinda picky and I don’t get in a hurry.”

To my surprise, he smiled. “Nothing wrong with that.” He toasted me with his glass, then took another drink. “You come here a lot?”

“Fairly regular.”

“I’ll see ya again, then,” Ron said and wandered off into the crowd. A couple of minutes later I saw him dancing with another woman. Good to know I didn’t permanently crush his heart.

The orange thing tasted terrible, so I took it over to the bar and shoved it at Paul. “Give me a shot of whiskey. I need something to wash the taste of that out of my mouth.”

Paul laughed. “I tried to tell him you wouldn’t like it.” He poured me a shot. “My treat,” he said, leaning forward to hand me the drink. “See that guy down at the end of the bar? He asked if Elizabeth Nelson is here tonight.”

I craned my neck to see the man Paul was talking about. He looked like a corporate type, dressed in a business suit. Even my mother didn’t call me Elizabeth, but it was the name on my business card. “What did you tell him?”

“That I hadn’t seen you yet. Says his name is Sayd Agha.”

“Any hint as to what he wants?”

Paul shook his head.

I walked down the bar. “Mr. Agha? I’m Elizabeth Nelson. I understand you were asking for me.”

He slid off the bar stool and stood. “Ah, Miss Nelson. Yes, I would like to discuss some business with you.” He had to crane his neck up to talk to me and it seemed to bother him.

I handed him my business card. “Normally, people either send me an email or vmail. We can discuss your business tomorrow.” Rather than walk away, I hesitated, waiting to see what he would do. Expecting me at The Pinnacle was a curious choice since I had no official connection to the place. The idea that he had followed me there seeped through my alcohol-soaked brain.

“I hoped we might talk tonight,” he said, reaching out and taking my elbow. “Perhaps we could just go outside where it’s quieter.” I tried to shake him off, and he tightened his grip. “I think we need to talk now, Miss Nelson.”

“Perhaps we could go into the women’s washroom so I can torture you until you tell me what this is about,” I suggested. I stared in his eyes, but he wasn’t sufficiently shocked at what I’d said. A man who nonchalantly considered torture a standard topic of conversation? Not good.

“Look down,” I said. He glanced down at the knife I held against his abdomen. “Let go of me.” He did. “Very good. Now, turn around and face the bar. And if you think you might be faster than I am, consider if you’d bet your life on it.”

Agha made a good decision and turned around. I took a small electroshock box from my purse, put it against the back of his neck and gave him three million volts. His shaking-dance reaction attracted Paul’s attention, and he rushed around the end of the bar to catch my victim before he fell.

“Do you have a room where we can take him?” I asked. “Or do I have to drag him all the way to the basement?”

“Are you going to kill him?” Paul asked. Did I mention that Paul had known me for a very long time?

“Not until I find out how many friends he has outside. I have no idea what’s going on.”

Paul turned away and told another bartender to cover for him. He spoke into a mic clipped to his collar, then turned back to me.

“I called for a couple of bouncers to help us.”

We both scanned the room, trying to see if anyone was taking an interest in our activities. It didn’t appear anyone was paying attention. I pulled out my phone and called my dad.

“Hey, does the name Sayd Agha ring a bell?” I asked when Dad answered.

“Can’t say that it does. Why?”

“He just tried to lure me outside a club to talk business. I told him to call the office tomorrow, and he tried to get insistent.”

“Don’t go with him!”

I chuckled. “I didn’t. I can’t figure out why he’s interested in me, so I thought maybe you’d run over his pet frog or something.”

“Send me his picture.”

Two bouncers, Tom and Ramon, showed up and carried Agha down the stairs to the basement. I thought we were going to Paul’s apartment, but they surprised me. We ended up in a laundry room. Paul brought a chair, and one of the bouncers produced a rope. They were very efficient in tying my new friend to the chair.

“Looks like you boys have done this before,” I commented.

Tom winked at me.

“If he followed me here, his friends may know Nellie is a friend of mine,” I said.

Ramon’s grin turned into a scowl. “Anyone touch Nellie has a death wish.” I didn’t think he was speaking metaphorically. He nodded to Tom, who headed toward the stairs.

“Do you need me?” Paul asked. When I shook my head, he also left, but Ramon stayed.

“You here to protect me or him?” I asked.

“I don’t know him, and he ain’t near as pretty as you are. You’re Paul’s friend.” He stepped back and leaned against a washing machine.

My phone rang. “Dad?”

“His name is Adnan Erdowan,” Dad said. “He’s Turkish, but he’s been living here for about ten years. He works for a Russian electronics corporation.”

“That’s nice. By here, do you mean Toronto or North America?”

“North America. He’s based in Dallas, but airline records show he’s been shuttling back and forth from Dallas to Toronto monthly for the past year.”

“Any idea why he’s after me?”

“None. I’ve never dealt with that company, one way or the other.” Then he gave me his version of fatherly advice. “Libby, don’t take any chances and don’t leave any witnesses.”

I hung up and told the bouncer, “Maybe you should take a look outside and see if anyone’s waiting for him.”

“Already have people doing that.”

“Oh. Are you squeamish?”

“Not particularly.”

I shoved the little box into the Turk’s groin and triggered it. He screamed—long, loud, and raw. The bouncer paled. I decided he lied when he said he wasn’t squeamish. Men are like that—always trying to put on a strong front.

 

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PINK MOON ~ BLOG TOUR ~ GIVEAWAY & EXCERPT

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Book Title: Pink Moon

Author Name: Tonya Coffey

Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy/Romance

Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

 

Blurb:

 

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Cast from her home, Jessa struggles to find a place among the realms. With the loss of power, her premonitions are vague and tormenting. However with Micha at her side, she has hope for the future.

Micha has found his stride as the Ancient King. Nevertheless, the Shadows refuse to allow a Faerie sit on the Ancients’ throne, keeping them apart. Instead of fighting against he Shadows, he focuses his rage on the one who stole Jessa’s powers, a hidden heir herself. When he thinks he has everything under control, he is pulled into a dire situation that will force Jessa’s hand.

Accepting what needs to be done, Jessa takes a risk to save Micha – a choice that may be her last.

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Amazon.com  https://www.amazon.com/New-World-Bk-Pink-Moon-ebook/dp/B01N6968RI

 

 

Author Bio:

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Tonya grew up in a small town in Kentucky where she lives with her husband and two teen boys. Together, they motivate her to be the best at whatever she faces. If she isn’t writing or reading a fantasy novel with lots of action, you will find her sitting in front of a canvas, painting the landscape which is so abundant around her home.

Visit her at:

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TO ENTER THE GIVEAWAY  JUST CLICK HERE

 

excerpt

 

 

Chapter 2

Micha

The dark chamber rattled as the Shadows filtered in from the depths of darkness and into their perspective throne. Marcus stood before me, a slight smile on his lips. It was an odd appearance to a man who seldom showed emotion.

As I hesitantly walked to the center of the room, whispers echoed around me. My eyes constantly drifted between each of the Shadows and to Marcus, as I tried to understand what was happening. From time to time, words of praise filtered in with word of the Sylph.

Drawing in a breath of stale air, I focused on Marcus and the consequences of my actions. Bren warned me. However, I was too stubborn to listen.

Marcus raised his hand, signaling the others to be quiet as he addressed the king. The crackling of wood in the oversized fireplace filled the silence around us.

“Well done, Micha, King of Ancients.” His voice boomed against the rock walls and carried into the tall ceiling. “We are pleased you took initiative, freeing our people from the Falls.” A rolling echo of conformation carried around the room.

I stood speechless. No words came to mind, as I stood before them. I could not say I did it for a Faery or their queen. They would not understand…or would they? She was the same as I. A mixture of Light and Dark. Would they see her as one of us?

“What do you say, King Micha?” Marcus’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

Clearing my throat, I pulled some words together. “I did not do it for the praise you bestow upon me. I did it for the…love…I have for the people.” I spoke with some truth.

Marcus stared at me. His eyes narrowed, as if he could read my inner thoughts. Swallowing the lump rising in my throat, I hoped he was blind to my heart. To the real reason, I put myself in danger.

Instead, Marcus lifted his hands up in front of him and clapped. The Shadows followed suite as if they had no mind of their own. Marcus was the puppeteer.

“I am honored to serve such a selfless king.” Bren stepped forward, offering me his hand. I turned to face him and noticed the Bookkeeper hovering in the back corner.

My eyes drifted to the book he clung to then back to Bren. His face held annoyance and his voice was full of sarcasm when he spoke. Then the realization hit me. He tried to warn me. For me to wait for the Ancients, but I refused. Therefore, I would receive the consequences of my actions. The Keeper was there to tell me of my fate—my doom.

“Welcome Keeper,” Marcus called from his throne. “Please read for us the results of a courageous king.”

As the Keeper flipped his book open, he moved forward to stand next to me. I noticed he was not the same blubbering, clumsy man as the first time I had met him. He was confident now. I wondered if I had a hand in the transformation.

“I tried to warn you,” Bren whispered at my side.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I asked, “Warn me about what exactly?” It could not be as bad as he anticipated. Could it?

“You must…”

The Keeper began to read from his book, drowning out Bren’s whisper. “When a king shows compassion and selflessness for his people, it reflects his power and, therefore, he shall pass on that strength to an heir.”

My body went slack. Did I hear him right? I felt as if my world had been ripped away and I was left floating in space. Closing my eyes, I wanted to scream, why?

Turning to Bren, his face solemn, I wanted to strangle him for allowing me to do something that jeopardized my life with Jess. I frowned at him. You should have told me.

“Thank you, Keeper,” Marcus said, “You may go.”

As the Keeper walked away, I turned, facing Bren fully. “Why did you not tell me?”

“I tried,” he whispered, “You would not listen.”

Frustrated, I knew he was right. I would not listen. Jess was in danger and it did not matter what I had to face. Still, I would do it all again.

“I will do what I can to fix it.”

Nodding, I took a breath and faced Marcus.

“Please come forward, King Micha.” As if my soul left my body, I stepped forward meeting Marcus at the bottom of his throne. “We took the liberty of choosing a few beautiful girls who we feel would make strong queens.”

Lifelessly, I followed Marcus to my quarters, Bren lagged behind. “These girls are strong minded, smart and from a worthy line.” He smiled. “Everything you need to carry on your legacy.”

Marcus opened the door, revealing a line of girls waiting in the long hallway outside my chambers. Exhaling, I glanced to Bren. He shrugged as if he knew nothing of it.

“You have until night fall to choose one who…tickles your fancy.”

Marcus turned away as each of the Shadows vanished. Bren closed the distance between us looking down the hallway, as I asked, “How will you fix this?”

Bren placed his palm on my shoulder. “I am not sure but have some faith in me.”

Bren began to walk forward but I grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Let’s walk around and enter through the other door. I am not ready to face them yet.” He nodded and closed the door. I only wished it was on the entire ordeal.

 

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The Shaman’s Carving ~ Blog Tour with Give& Excerpt

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Title: The Shaman’s Carving
Author: Jordan Altman
Genre: Fantasy
Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

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Blurb:
Elia is tired of her life as a peasant, the young girl seeks adventure and fame. With her best friend, the Baron’s son, in tow, the children enter the forbidden ruins where a gift of magic awaits to be discovered. For hidden deep in the mysterious ancient city sits a totem, a magical carving that will change the lives of all those within the Barony of Riverhill forever. Yet, stalking the children lurks a creature with a dark purpose. A choice lays before Elia, to let sleeping dogs lie or to pursue the mystic arts of becoming a wizard in Shamanism.

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Buy Links: https://www.amazon.com/Shamans-Carving-Jordan-Altman-ebook/dp/B01MRN99X3/

Author Bio:

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Jordan Altman is a Geologist who has worked from the Land of the Midnight Sun to the Canadian Shield. Recently taking up creative writing, his adventures within reality are now being matched by those of his imagination.

Author’s Social Media Links:

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$20 Dollar Amazon Voucher.

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excerpt

From Chapter 1

“I don’t think we should enter the ruins,” said Locrian with a quaver of fear in his voice. His squinting eyes peered beyond Elia, viewing a stone city overrun with the return of nature. “Maybe we should turn around?”

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.” Elia smirked at Locrian who was keeled over, gasping for air. He was the only overweight child in the village.

While waiting for her friend to recover from the climb, Elia gazed across the valley to her village and the high castle of their Liege Lord. “The Baron will be happy you got your exercise for the day, plus there’s the return trip too!”

“Don’t mention the hike back yet, I’d roll down the hill to the river if we tried now.” Locrian sat down on the dew-covered weeds then looked up to Elia. “My father won’t be happy if we enter the haunted ruins.”

“Then we won’t tell him, will we?” quipped Elia as she walked away from Locrian towards a crumbled wall of grey stone. The thrill of adventure made her excited, and a haunted city destroyed ages ago promised its fill. She unslung a burlap sack from her shoulder. Opening it, Elia plucked out a fistful of berries she collected along the way and tossed them into her mouth.

“Can’t we sit for a while?” moaned Locrian from behind. His lungs wheezed with every exhale.

Elia turned, brushing aside her oily hair in a futile effort as the bangs returned to drape over her dark brown eyes.

“You want to sit? After all those stories we’ve learnt about the haunted ruins; the monster, the siege, the ghost, and all you want to do is sit?” exclaimed Elia with a mouthful of berries.

“All those stories and you want to go in!” burst out Locrian.

Elia walked over to him and put out her arms for Locrian to reach. Once their hands interlocked, she heaved herself backwards, pulling the boy up to his feet while almost falling rearward herself. They had to stick together for neither had any other friends. Bullies in town would pick on Locrian for his weight and Elia for being more of a boy than a proper girl.

“Your beautiful clothes are all wet,” said Elia as she admired his well-tailored cloth over the tattered garbs of peasantry she wore.

“That’s more from the sweat than the dew,” said Locrian.

Elia led the way as Locrian followed. They glided their finger tips along the moist tips of the waist-high grass. Upon entering through a hole in the wall, one of many, they surveyed the ruins before them. The ancient city appeared to stretch out to eternity, though many of the crumbled structures laid hidden in the overgrowth of centuries.

“Wow, this place is a hundred times larger than your father’s castle and courtyard,” said Elia with awe. She always gazed at the ruins from afar, imagining how they appeared up close. Yet, now here, the ancient city had gone beyond surpassing her expectations. “It must have taken forever to build all of this!” Elia admired the limestone blocks. She tore at the vines, setting free the slabs of stone and the weathered masonry. Elia gasped at what appeared underfoot. “Look, even the ground is stone.”

Locrian looked down and kicked at the grass and dirt until the cobbles of the road emerged, weathered and broken. “What happened here?” he asked as much to himself as to Elia.

Elia paused, she looked around, no longer taking in the view, but inspecting it. “The stories I was taught say a monster sacked the city, perhaps a dragon. By the look of all the caved-in buildings, that might be true. Though, maybe not… Dragons can breathe out fire that melts rock. These ruins are all broken, not scorched.”

“A monster?”

“Yep, and a big one too!” Elia played with Locrian’s fear. She knew he didn’t like monsters, and dragons were his least favourite.

“Well, the stories I’ve been told weren’t of what happened here long ago. I was taught about the dangers of entering the forbidden ruins. Ghosts and ghouls that will frighten me to death, creatures that will eat me alive, and plants that will poison me till I bloat and explode. Then if I somehow make it back unharmed, I’d risk my father’s wrath at being disobeyed.” Locrian looked back towards the direction of home. “Let’s go back, we’ve checked this place out. Now, we should return before anyone finds us missing.”

“We haven’t explored yet. Plus, if they never notice us when we’re there, no one will notice us missing.”  She didn’t want to return. Home had misery but this place offered excitement. “I want to see more.” She then turned to Locrian. “You have your castle, all I have to visit is the wheat fields, and the pig pens. This is like a whole new world; it’s waiting for us to discover it. Let’s be explorers and see if we can find any treasures.”

Elia walked deeper into the foliage covered urban landscape, not looking back. She walked with determination and confidence. Any fear from the stories, which Elia had, she ignored as they were being outmatched by the prospect of adventure.

“Hey, wait up!”

The two children disappeared into the ruins where the only sound was a girl’s vocalised astonishment and a boy’s wheezing.

Elia grabbed hold of a vine and pulled herself up. As she climbed an old oak, Locrian stood at the base and watched.

“It’s not my castle,” said Locrian in a whisper.

“What’s that?” asked Elia from above. She loved climbing trees. When Elia sat at the top of a tree she always felt better about her life. She no longer was tied down to the world, a tree offered her a glimpse at freedom.

“You said, it’s my castle. It’s not. It’s more akin to a prison.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I live in a shack, with two brothers and four sisters. Three of us eat one day, the others, the next. I sleep on a pile of hay that gives me a rash in the morning.” From the tree’s top, Elia saw more of the ruins.  She spotted a large building with a dome further to their south.

“Sorry,” said Locrian as he lowered his head.

“Plus, one day you’ll be the Baron,” said Elia with emotion, trying to cheer him up. Sadness then draped over her. “One day, you’ll forget about me and marry a Lady. I’ll be nothing but a farmhand, working in the fields.”

“Me, a Baron?”

Elia knew Locrian didn’t like the prospect of succeeding his father. “Yep, and you’ll rule the whole village!”

“Well, when I become the Baron, I’ll Knight you!” he told Elia as she climbed down and returned to his side.

“A Knight!” she exclaimed with excitement. “Imagine, Sir Elia, Knight of the Barony of Riverhill!” With a grand smirk, she jumped up and snapped off a branch from the oak.

“I don’t think people would call you Sir Elia as you are a girl.”

“Do I get a sword?”

“Yes, of course you do.”

“Good! Then the people will call me whatever I want!” Elia’s smirk reappeared as she swiped at the tree’s trunk with her branch of a sword. “Come on, I saw somewhere I want to check out.”

They continued on through the ancient city, weaving their way through the overgrowth and slabs of grey stone. Elia sang a tune about an old knight who slew a giant as the sun shined in their eyes.

“Still a few hours till noon, but we should head back soon.” Locrian’s voice wavered with anxiety.

“After this last place I want to see, we’ll call it a day and return to the village.” Elia sang and skipped while attacking the air with her tree branch. “Maybe, we’ll find a real sword in the domed building.” At the prospect of steel in her hand, she quickened her pace while Locrian followed with hesitation.

Thick, green vines tangled their way up the structure, knotting over one another. The domed citadel sat in disrepair before them. Ten storeys tall was the building, with a diameter of 30 yards. An old elm grew from within, emerging through the dome, in a bloom of life.

“Let’s go in,” said Elia with excitement.

Before Locrian could protest, she grabbed his hand and pulled him through a pair of stone doors set ajar.

Inside, the brightness of the day faded away to an ominous grey. Illumination came from beams of light, pillars of the sun which shot through holes and cracks in the ceiling.

The vegetation was different than outside. There was no grass. Only a few fat weeds grew between the crags in the stone floor. Dendritic purple moss covered the rest of the ground while red mushrooms grew, some big enough to sit on.

“I don’t like it in here,” said Locrian. “One of my teachers taught me how poisonous some mushrooms can be, and these looked rather troublesome. Plus, it’s kind of dark in here.

“It’s kinda spooky, isn’t it?” Elia looked around at the shambled structure. The dank place was full of decay and shadows. “I love it!”

They passed through tight hallways, over piles of rubble and crawled through a constricted room where the roof had caved in. At last, they entered the main chamber with the grand dome overhead.

The area was massive, consisting the majority of the building. The chamber was colossal compared to the dining hall of the Baron’s castle. At the far end, an elm tree grew through the roof, creating shifting shadows.

The children walked in deeper, breathing in the stale air and smelling the strong scent of sour vegetation. Elia shivered at the temperature as the cooling interior and darkness created an illusion of night.

“This must have been the main administrative building of the city,” stated Locrian.

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s a place where the city rulers govern and hold meetings,” said Locrian.

“Ummm, okay.” Elia didn’t like the majority of subjects taught to Locrian. Only when he spoke of Sir Vuhtre’s weapons training did she ever perk up and pry every last morsel of information from him.

“What’s that?” asked Elia, seeing something small standing on the floor with a beam of light shining straight down upon it. It appeared to be a little statue or something similar.

“What’s what?” Locrian quickened his pace to form up beside Elia, wanting a look for himself but tripped over a vine that grabbed at his foot.

The sound of his fall reverberated inside the chamber. With the bouncing of the echoes went a cloud of bats that hung in the dome’s rafters. The flying rodents flew over their heads, screeching at them. Locrian screamed while Elia swatted at them with her branch. They swirled above them until finding a hole in the dome to escape into the bright daylight outside.

“I want to go home!” cried out Locrian as he tried to untangle himself from the vine that wrapped itself around his ankle.

“Okay, give me a moment, though.”

“Where are you going? Come on, let’s go!”

Elia left Locrian’s side and dashed over to the small object several yards away. She stood over it, then bent down and snatched it up. It felt like a wooden carving in her hands, but under the rush of Locrian’s nagging, she didn’t have the time to make out the sculpture’s appearance.

“What was that noise?” Locrian asked on the edge of tears.

Elia stuffed the carving into a pocket within her garments and stood silent, straining her ears. “I hear nothing, it’s only your imagination.”

“No, I heard something,” protested Locrian, demanding Elia stop and listen.

An irregular wind emerged from within the recess of the derelict building. The noise wheezed, like Locrian after a run, but also gargled as it resonated off the stone and vegetation.

Elia returned to Locrian’s side, shaking with him but refusing to budge as they listened to the unbalanced wind.

“It’s not the wind,” whispered Elia into Locrian’s ear. “It’s something breathing.”
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