Sunday, October 13, 2013

Final Excerpt from Alex Finch: Monster Hunter - and Another Chance to Enter the Giveaway!


And here is the last bit. Enjoy - and thanks for hanging out at the pavilion!

Remember - you can enter the contest until October 31, on my website or my Facebook page.

Here we go:


Meet Alex Finch - tomboy, techno geek, monster hunter.
Reluctant monster hunter.
 
A school project, an absentminded project partner, and a misplaced backpack all change 16-year-old Alex Finch's life forever.
 
In a single afternoon Alex finds the missing backpack, has a run-in with Sam, the boy she's had a crush on since first grade - and discovers that monsters are real.
 
That mind-blowing incident throws her life in a completely different direction, uncovering secrets that cost her more than she could ever imagine. And the further she digs, the darker and more dangerous the secrets become.
 
What else is hiding behind the ordinary facade of her California beach town?
 
Alex is about to find out.
 
*Includes an exclusive excerpt of Truth and Consequences, the second Monster Files adventure, coming your way in time for the holidays!
 
 
Excerpt:
 

We were at the back of the house, trapped by an eight foot version of the spike tipped wrought iron fence. McGinty must have been one paranoid man. And we weren’t getting out that way.

Before I could stop her, Misty disappeared around the corner. The creature didn’t follow us out the window, like I expected, so it could be anywhereand that included waiting for us to run out front and straight into its sharp claws.

“Misty!” I tried not to shout her name, but I needed her to hear me. I skidded around the corner and ran right into her. She clutched my injured arm; the pain almost buckled my knees. “God—”

“Sorry.” She snatched her hand away, and saw the blood-smeared gash. “Oh, Alex,” she whispered. “That thing didn’t—”

“Rusty can.” I caught my breath, cradled my throbbing arm. Leaning in, I kept my voice as low as possible. The creature probably had the keen hearing of a wolf, and already pinpointed our position. “I’m going to go first. If I tell you to run, you run. No hesitation, no looking back.”

“What about you?” Her concern left me feelingodd. No one at school ever . . . Never mind.

“I’ll be right behind you. Promise,” I said, when she gave me the skeptical eye. “Are you okay to run?”

We both looked down at her feet, at the bloody footprints in the dirt. Glass littered the ground, and she obviously found her share of it.

“I’m good. The pain’ll come after, I’m sure.” She tried a smile, failed miserably. I appreciated the effort. Miss Prom Queen kept surprising me. “Don’t play the martyred hero. I really, really don’t want to do the project on my own.”

Before today, I didn’t want to do the project with her at all. Now I wanted to live through this, just to see what kind of awesome we could create. And I don’t use that word oftenespecially with anything relating to school.

“Just for you.” I hefted the iron leg, my muscles already burning from the weight. “Ready?” Misty let out her breath, nodded. “Wait for my signal, then run like the chess club is after you.”

That got the smile out. The chess club adored Misty, and let her know, in all sorts of creepy, stalkerish ways. “Meet you at the bus stop,” she whispered. “Seriously. You better show.”

“Got it.” I inched along the side of the house, Misty close behind, but out of swinging range. I seriously underestimated her brain capacity. The stench of wet dog hit me before we reached the corner. I touched Misty’s wrist. “When I say go, you hit it. Hard and fast.”

She bit her lip, but nodded. I kept moving forward, both hands on the iron leg. This time I was aiming for that smirking snout. I needed to do enough damage to give me time to reach the sidewalk. That was my get-out-alive goal.

I just hoped I had enough left to cause the damage.

My arm had been bleeding steadily since I cut it, with no time to do anything but pretend it didn’t hurt like hell. Closing my stronger right hand over my left, I moved forward, taking slow, even breaths.

Claws scraped across cement. It was on the walkwayI hopedleading up to the house. Please, God, don’t let it be on the sidewalk outside the fence.

I took a chance, peeked around the side of the house. And let relief loosen the knot in my gut. The creature sniffed along the middle of the cracked walkway, its back to me. I knew I wouldn’t get another break like this.

Shouting in my head, I ran forward, raised the heavy iron leg and bashed it against the creature’s right flank.

“Go, Misty!”

I saw her in my peripheral vision, dashing across the lawn. I scrambled backward, keeping the furious, snarling creature in my sightline.

Without warning it leaped forward. I cried out, ramming into the fence left side first. My injured arm bounced off the wrought iron. The pain shot through me, going straight to my legs, which happily gave in to it, dropping me to the ground.

All my pain-blurred vision saw was a black shape filling the sky. I covered my head with my right arm, made myself as small as possible and braced for tearing agony.

Instead, a startled whine nearly deafened me. Something wet and icy splashed over my right arm, followed by a pair of calloused hands that dragged me up and out of the yard before I could take in a breath to scream.

“Alex!” Misty’s voice pierced through the brain fog. “God, are you okay? Get her away from the fence, Sam. That nightmare could still reach through and—”

“He won’t be hurting anyone, Misty.” Oh, no. Please, let me be hearing things. “You’re safe, Alex. I promise you.”

No—not hearing things. That deep, quiet voice belonged to Sam Emmettyeah, those Emmetts, as in Emmettsville. I’ve had a secret crush on him since the first grade. I can count on one hand the number of times he’s noticed me. After today, I’ll have to start using both handsto hide my face every time he walks by.
 


Want more? You can grab your own copy here:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

Kobo

And here is another chance to enter the release giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Thanks for stopping by, and until next time - read on. :)



About the Author

C.A. Dean believes in ghosts, witches, magic - and monsters.

She loves the supernatural, the odd and the strange, and writing about it is like going to a job she loves - no work and all fun.

She would love for you to join her as she hunts for monsters - real and imagined.


And there's the official biography, out of the way.

I love telling stories, and my four nephews have been a big influence in what I read, and now what I write.

Sliding into YA has been as easy fit, especially since I've been reading and loving it for years.

Alex Finch: Monster Hunter is the first book of a series I have been planning for a while, and I can't wait to introduce you to Alex and her rather quirky friends. :)

To find out more about me and my books, you can hop over to my website:

http://cadeanauthor.com

Hang out with me on my Facebook page: http://facebook.com/cadeanauthor

Or come and exchange tweets at: https://www.twitter.com/cadeanauthor

I look forward to meeting you. :)

Wild Times on Skidaway Island

My blog tour starts October 28th.

Since many of you are romance writers I want to announce that each of my chapters also deals with the love lfe of the topic character.

Excerpt:
Didelphis virginiana compensates for its short life with a high birth rate. Mating season lasts from January to July with some opossums having two litters per year. Babies are born within thirteen days of mating, but live in the mother’s pouch for two months after birth. Mom has thirteen nipples in her pouch; a circle of twelve with one in the middle. Usually she has fewer babies, but if more than thirteen deliver, the extra ones don’t survive. Often a mother possum dead on the side of the road has live babies in her pouch, who could survive if rescued by humans.

Tokyo Dare


Tokyo Dare is stopping by the Goddess Fish Party Pavilion! Here's a excerpt to give you a taste of what's in store when you read this YA contemporary story. 
***
A Japanese guy in his early twenties with a mop of long hair and a goatee blocked my way. Dressed in a black leather jacket and skinny jeans, all he needed was a guitar, and the rocker look would be complete. I stood speechless. He was the kind of guy that never talked to me back home.

He stretched out his hand and said. “Names Kenzo.”

I managed to squeak out, “Erin…. Um… American who’s totally lost.” Just as I was about to let go of his hand, water dripped down my arm onto his watch.

“Hey, I know it’s a sizzling summer but you’re soaked.”

“I had a little accident with a water bottle.

His eyes moved up and down my body like a scanner. “I can see that.”

His stare confirmed I still looked like a wet T-shirt contestant.

“I was headed to Seda Academy and got lost. I couldn’t find anyone who could speak English to help me. Until… you.”

“You don’t speak any Japanese?”

“Only five words.” I gave him a smile and said in Japanese, “Excuse me, eat pretty idiot.”

The trailer for Tokyo Dare was featured on USA Today.

http://youtu.be/uYpphAwOrgI

You can find author Anne Van at the following links:

Website: www.annevan.net



Blog: http://annevan1111.blogspot.com/



Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author.Anne.Van



WINTERS HEAT: Climbing Amazon Kindle's Military Romance List

Climbing the charts! WINTERS HEAT is #15 on Amazon Kindle's Military Romance bestsellers list and #29 in on Paid Romantic Suspense Books! Congratulations Colby Winters & Mia Kensington, two characters with enough personality and sizzle to tear up the charts.

Amazon NOOK Kobo iTunes All Romance


Reviewers rave:

"5 stars! Cristin Harber delivered something extraordinary." -Reading It All

"Oh my word...scorching hot romance! LOVED this book. Go get this now... right NOW! Really." -The Winey Reader

"...one of those well written books that you don't read - you live. 5 stars!" -Reviewing in the Chaos

"5 out of 5! Full of heat, adventure, excitement, and romance." -Identity Discovery 

"She's [Cristin Harber] is that good. Like Julie Ann Walker, Cindy Gerard, Maya Banks, Catherine Mann, and Nina Bruhns. If you like those authors, and have tried Cristin Harber, you're missing out big time." -Just Plain Sassy

Amazon NOOK Kobo iTunes All Romance


Blurb:


After putting her life on the line to protect classified intelligence, military psychologist Mia Kensington is on a cross-country road trip from hell with an intrusive save-the-day hero. Uninterested in his white knight act, she’d rather take her chances without the ruggedly handsome, cold-blooded operative who boasts an alpha complex and too many guns.

Colby Winters, an elite member of The Titan Group, has a single objective on his black ops mission: recover a document important to national security. It was supposed to be an easy in-and-out operation. But now, by any means necessary becomes a survival mantra when he faces off with a stunning woman he can’t leave behind.

When Titan’s safe houses are compromised, Colby stashes Mia at his home, exposing his secret—he’s the adoptive father of an orphaned baby girl. Too soon, danger arrives and Mia lands in the hands of a sadistic cartel king with a taste for torture. As hours bleed into fear-drenched days, Colby races across the globe and through a firestorm of bullets to save the woman he can’t live without.

Amazon NOOK Kobo iTunes All Romance

Excerpt:


She smelled like vanilla and sugar, even after the hell she’d been through that day. Her soft hair brushed up against his bare bicep. Unsettled need prickled down his neck. His throat tightened, and fire ran to his groin.
“Mia…” Distraction and anticipation stole words from his lips.
His heart pounded loud in his chest, fighting for his attention. With each flutter of her eyelashes and innocent movement against his skin, his tension spiked. It was shocking. He was on the job. There was no time for distraction. Losing control was unheard of. Unacceptable.
His arm was cemented around her shoulder, and it wasn’t moving. He stared as the broken white lines on the highway passed in quick revolutions, one right after another. The hum of the truck’s engine poked at his concentration.
He needed to get out of this truck. He needed cool, fresh air to cover him. Right now. Deep, mind-clearing breaths were in order as soon as possible. Anything to get his disciplined mind back to what it did best—analyze, act, accomplish.
Winters made a sharp exit off the highway onto an unlit ramp. He jammed on the brakes. Gravel spit from under the truck. The back end skidded and fishtailed before it came to a stop. His heart thumped. His throat tightened. The faint scent of burned rubber filtered into the pickup cab.
Oh, what the hell. No way was he getting out of this truck.
As fast as he pulled off the road, he brought her close to his face, and without even a second to hover over her, he crushed his lips onto hers. Her tense mouth gasped a breath, then melted. The hot caress of her tongue sent explosions from his chest to the palms of his hands. The pounding in his heart didn’t get any better. It only pushed his racing pulse faster, making it gallop wild, as intoxicating rockets flamed inside him.
Insanity. She was delicious insanity.
In between breathless pants, wicked want fired. Her lips were full. Her kiss was better than he expected, and hell, he expected a whole lot. She stoked him faster than he could ever remember. A kiss unlike any other kiss. There was no denying that.
He knotted a hand in her hair, held her to him, and devoured her. The press of her silken flesh made him hunger for more. His breathing deteriorated into a desperate rasp of torture. With each inhalation, he smelled, tasted, and consumed feminine beauty. This angel was a vixen in disguise, and God help him, he wanted her.
Her small hands wrapped into his T-shirt, then she stroked his stomach, flexing her fingertips against the fabric and straining against him. He dropped his lips to her neck, and she moaned. That perfect purr fanned his desperation. Her goose bumps flashed under his tongue’s caress, and she shuddered with each whipping kiss.
She tasted of sweat and tear gas, of soft woman, and carnal ambition. There wasn’t a timid thing about Mia. Who was he to assume what she wanted? To think she needed soothing and caring? It seemed all she needed was him. Hard. Tough. Possessive.

Amazon NOOK Kobo iTunes All Romance

Connect with Cristin Harber:



NEWSLETTER signup for series info: http://bit.ly/11aWFzM
http://cristinharber.com

Strapped by Nina G. Jones - Blog tour starts this week!

Blog par-tay time!

I just finished my first draft of the sequel to Strapped, Strapped Down. Dare I say, it's even crazier than the first installment of the series! It picks up right where Strapped left off, and is a wild ride.

My blog tour with Goddess Fish kicks off this week, and I will be giving away a $50 Victoria's Secret Gift card, so make sure you stay in the loop by following me!

Stay updated on Nina G. Jones' so you can enter the raffle for a $50 VS gift card:

Website
Facebook
Twitter

If you haven't read Strapped, here's a description and excerpt for you. It's dark, it's sensual, sometimes funny, and it has twists and turns.:



By all appearances, Shyla Ball has an enviable life: a loyal boyfriend, a great job, and family that loves her. She doesn't realize how deeply unsatisfied she is until she has an embarrassing encounter with a handsome stranger at a coffee shop. Taylor Holden, a successful businessman, takes a sudden special interest in her and offers her a job she cannot refuse. Soon after, she learns there is much more to this intensely private man than meets the eye. He is hiding many painful secrets, including why it is that he has seemingly plucked her out of obscurity for such a lucrative position. Her "perfect" world is turned upside down by her infatuation towards Taylor and in just a couple of months, her life looks nothing like it did before. While she is frightened by the changes she sees in herself, she cannot resist the lure of Taylor Holden. As Shyla slowly gains Taylor's trust, she learns of his complex history and how it has molded him into the person he has become. When elements of Taylor's secret past resurface and threaten to destroy them, Shyla finds out there may be more to Taylor's story than even he is aware of. Strapped is a story of passion, manipulation, obsession, and family secrets.

Excerpt:

"Let's start." I cautiously disengage the parking break, move my foot from the brake to the clutch...“Wait a second,” he says and I hurriedly slam my foot down on the break. “Relax, everything is fine. Safety first.” He reaches over me and pulls down my seatbelt. I stiffen and look straight ahead as his arm ever so slightly grazes my chest. The click of the seat belt securing into the buckle is the only sound to break the awkward silence. I feel his warm breath on my neck as he reaches and I take a deep nervous inhale. His scent fills my nose, it is clean and warm, just like in the coffee shop. The smell of his skin is delicious. I try to stop these thoughts, but they are invading my brain in a way that has never happened to me before. Not even with…Rick. I try push him back out of my mind at this moment because I feel a sense of guilt. Rick and I are frozen. That’s the only way I can describe us. He is faithful, he is steady, he is nice, but he is not like this man in front of me: new, mysterious, and unpredictable. Rick and I are in a state of comfort, but like much of my life, I am becoming more and more discontent with comfort. Mr. Holden then proffers a disclaimer. "Normally, we wouldn't be driving after drinks, but I noticed you didn't really touch your brandy."
 
“I’m sorry, it looked great, but then we came down here and I didn’t have time to finish.”

“No need to be sorry, I just don’t want to give the impression that drinking and driving is something I condone.”

“It can’t be hard to avoid when you have your own driver.” Oops. That wasn’t supposed to sound disdainful. I meant it as a matter of fact, but that’s definitely not how it sounds. I should shut up. His eyebrow cocks. “That came out really bad! I meant that it must be great not having to worry about those things. I think it’s great that you have a driver. He is really nice.”

“You mean Mr. Belvedere?” he asks sarcastically. I don’t know how to react to his deadpan remark. 

“Oh...yeah, I mean that’s the only butler I knew growing up...I have a big mouth, don’t I?”

“No, I thought it was funny. He’s technically not a butler by the way. He doesn’t serve me tea and crumpets.

 
“You’ll have to forgive me, I know nothing about the finer things in life. Whatever I know, I learned from Robin Leach.”



Stay updated on Nina G. Jones' and Strapped:

Website
Facebook
Twitter

Buy Links for Strapped (check out those reviews!):
Amazon
Nook

I hope to see you around in the next few weeks as I have some really fun posts coming up throughout my blog tour :)

OXOX (my Strapped readers know what that's about), 

Nina G.  

Ready For Another Alex Finch Excerpt? Plus Another Chance to Enter the Giveaway!


Here you go - another taste of Alex Finch. This time you get to meet Misty - the absentminded project partner. :)


Meet Alex Finch - tomboy, techno geek, monster hunter.
Reluctant monster hunter.
 
A school project, an absentminded project partner, and a misplaced backpack all change 16-year-old Alex Finch's life forever.
 
In a single afternoon Alex finds the missing backpack, has a run-in with Sam, the boy she's had a crush on since first grade - and discovers that monsters are real.
 
That mind-blowing incident throws her life in a completely different direction, uncovering secrets that cost her more than she could ever imagine. And the further she digs, the darker and more dangerous the secrets become.
 
What else is hiding behind the ordinary facade of her California beach town?
 
Alex is about to find out.
 
*Includes an exclusive excerpt of Truth and Consequences, the second Monster Files adventure, coming your way in time for the holidays!
 
 
Excerpt:
 

It could have been worse.
 
Yes, it could haveI could have been stuck with Lance Rayner for the biggest, most important English assignment of my high school career. He had the sense of a rock, and dirt was smarter.

Instead I was partnered with Misty Corwin. The Misty CorwinProm Queen, cheerleader, class president, and airhead extraordinaire. I had already chosen my book for the project, To Kill a Mockingbird, and was 99.9% certain she’d never even heard of it. I was doomed.

And Misty cemented that fate by losing my notes three days into the project.

 
~ ~ ~

 
“What do you mean, you lost them?”
 
Misty tossed her waist length blonde hair over one shoulder, five foot ten inches of perfect lounging against the decorative arch leading into the school quad. She looked calm, but I could see the panic in those sky blue eyes. “I, you know, misplaced my backpack.”

Who does that? I took a deep breath, let it out, promised myself a new toy for Red if I didn’t punch her. “Do you remember where you misplaced it?”

“Um.” Now the panic spread across her face. This was not going to be pleasant. “I got on the bus near,” she looked around, as if some nefarious gossip was waiting to jump on every word. Yeah, I like words like nefarious. Sue me. “You know. The house.”

“The house.” My hands itched, wanting so badly to shake her until she started making sense. She lost the notes, my notes on the project. Notes I had spent months on. She was going to be accountable. If the small, angry part of me I only let out once in a leap year had its way, she’d be paying in pain. “And that would be which house, out of the, oh, twenty thousand or so in Emmettsville?”

Misty raised one perfectly shaped blonde eyebrow. “Sarcasm is like a second language to you, isn’t it?” I looked at her, startled, and I have to say, impressed. I didn’t think she even knew what sarcasm was. “The McGinty houseit’s the closest bus stop to my gym. I must have set the backpack down when I was getting change for the bus. I didn’t mean to, Alex.” She did the pretty little pout that worked with every teacher at school. I was, thankfully, immune. “This assignment is important to me, too.”

“Okay.” I let out a sigh, partly because I knew she meant well, and partly to ease some of the desire to choke her blue. “Let’s go see if it’s still there.”

“But I have practice!” She bounced off the arch, ready to cheer for her right to avoid this. “We have a game on Friday, and as head, I have to—”

“You’re going with me.” I may be short, but I have thistone. Mom calls it my “creep out the children” voice. Misty cringed like I had threatened her with imminent death. “We will hunt down the backpack, and you will not touch the notes again. Are we clear?”

Misty seemed to shrink with every word. “Yeah. Can we go? I want to have some practice time.”

I didn’t mention the fact that I would be missing dance class as I slung my messenger bag over one shoulder. No one at school knew that I was a dancerand I didn’t want that to change now. I like having parts of my life separate, to avoid the pointing and laughing.

I clamped my hand on her wrist, to keep her from sidetracking on me as we went past her fellow cheerleaders, and made her walk to the McGinty house. Where there was no backpack to be found.

“You’re sure it was here?”

Misty flipped her hair back, a sure sign she was irritated. “I was just here. This morning.” She spoke slowly, like I was an idiot, and pointed across the street. “My gym is right there. The same gym I go to three times a week. Good enough?”

I pushed hair off my face, limp strands sticking to my skin. Walking here may have been punishment for her, but it didn’t do me any favors. The humidity coming off the ocean two blocks away made me long for air conditioning. Welcome to October in Southern California.

“I’m going to check in the yard,” I said. “Maybe some kid threw it over the fence.”

“You’re not—you’re going inside?”

“It’s just a house, Misty.” She moved closer to the street, rubbing her arms. The McGinty house was the cliché that every neighborhood seemed to have—an overgrown, abandoned house that was, of course, haunted. I’m far too practical to believe that random spirits hang out in a dirty old house, waiting for some kid sneaking in on a dare. I handed her my messenger bag. “Try not to lose this one. I’ll be right back.”

I opened the rusted wrought iron gate, which naturally squeaked. Inside, the wide lawn was overgrown with some kind of vine, spreading across patches of dry, dead grass, the mess covered by the first drop of fall leaves, and piles of trash. The sidewalk was cracked, and buckling under the pressure of the tree roots demanding more room.

I scanned the side of the yard closest to me, looking for a backpack-shaped object among the trash, leaves and vines. Nothing.

Pushing down pointless anger, I kept looking, forced to move deeper into the yard. Closer to the house, the trash piles got bigger, more dense. With a sigh, I pushed up the sleeves of my hoodie and resigned myself to getting dirty.

Ten minutes later, all I had for my efforts were filthy hands and a nasty gash on my left forearm from a rusted can. Terrific. Tetanus shot time for me. I had a handkerchief in my messenger bag, and it was time to give up on the backpack, and my months of work.

I could cobble the notes together again from the research on my computer. Unfortunately, most of them were handwritten during study period, when we aren’t allowed near the library computers. Please, don’t get me started.

I knowI should have scanned them in, made a backup copy. I just didn’t expect anyone else to be touching them. Backups were number one on my new to do list.

With a sigh, defeated, I started to turn toward the streetand I spotted it, a green bulk in the shadows of the porch.

“Yes—” Forgetting the blood, and the filth coating my fingers, I moved to the steps. They looked—decrepit, but I wanted what was inside the backpack enough to risk it. Besides, the heavy leather of my motorcycle boots would protect me if I went through.

I tested the first step. The wood screeched under my weight, but it held, so I took a chance. The screech became a squeal. I held my breath, ready to jump at the first crack. The squeal subsided to a grumbling moan. Encouraged, I moved to the second step. It got me close enough to reach for the strap.

That was when I heard the growl.

~ ~ ~


Want more? You can grab your own copy here:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

Kobo

And here is another chance to enter the release giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Thanks for stopping by, and until next time - read on. :)



About the Author

C.A. Dean believes in ghosts, witches, magic - and monsters.

She loves the supernatural, the odd and the strange, and writing about it is like going to a job she loves - no work and all fun.

She would love for you to join her as she hunts for monsters - real and imagined.


And there's the official biography, out of the way.

I love telling stories, and my four nephews have been a big influence in what I read, and now what I write.

Sliding into YA has been as easy fit, especially since I've been reading and loving it for years.

Alex Finch: Monster Hunter is the first book of a series I have been planning for a while, and I can't wait to introduce you to Alex and her rather quirky friends. :)

To find out more about me and my books, you can hop over to my website:

http://cadeanauthor.com

Hang out with me on my Facebook page: http://facebook.com/cadeanauthor

Or come and exchange tweets at: https://www.twitter.com/cadeanauthor

I look forward to meeting you. :)