Beyond Books Takeover Treasure Trail Question Eigh

My good friend Joanne Kershaw is doing a scavenger hunt to celebrate the release of the final chapter in her Vanguard trilogy and invited me to participate!  If you are not already on the trail, then start here:

https://www.facebook.com/events/1562055274045245/?

Otherwise here’s my question!

Q8 What paranormal baddie was my first published short story about?

a) Ghosts/Spirits

b) Werewolves/Werekind

c) Vampires/Undead

Hint: Try the ‘Books’ tab above – look at the picture 😉

Now, go check out Jodi L. Milner at https://www.facebook.com/JodilMilnerAuthor? for question 9!Fated_Webkit_blurb-2

Tête-à-Tentacles (Will Scarlet’s Kiss & Tell)

Hey look, it’s me! And everyone’s favorite feisty inventor!

Ever On Word

“From the stage that brought you Will & Allyn’s Interactive Theatre,” Will Scarlet proclaims before the curtain, “here’s Ever On Word’s original talk show, Will Scarlet’s Kiss & Tell.”

Danielle whipped up a logo for me, because she is awesome first class.

The curtain rises, the studio audience applauds, and Will steps back onto the bright, cozy set with a broad smile and wave.

“Now, as regular viewers will know, that announcement is usually Allyn-a-Dale’s to make. But our little minstrel friend’s decided to take a mental health day, whatever that’s supposed to mean. So for this episode, I’m flying solo. Jumping right into it then,” he says, leading by example by hopping into his armchair. “Here courtesy of author J. Aurel Guay, let’s give it up for today’s guest, Miss Elizabeth Carter!”

The young woman enters from the other side of the stage and takes a seat in the chair across from Will’s.

“Welcome, Miss Carter! Won’t you give us…

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FATED by Joanne Kershaw

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My dear friend Joanne is celebrating the release of the final installment of her fantasy trilogy! She has been kind enough to allow me to share an excerpt from this exciting YA fantasy novel.

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EXCERPT

(Note from the author) – Elora gets a chance to explore her life beyond her friends and family in a new posting in Fated.  Her new commander, Marcus, asks her to share the events in Africa (at the end of Reflected).  This scene was interesting to write for me, to explore the sensations of being trapped in the power that consumed Elora at the end of the previous book. It was also exciting to explore the link between Elora and Zak. Enjoy!

The light. The power. It burns.
Save me! Save her! Siva? Mom?

Falling! Falling!

The arms. The arms that saved me. My eyes scoured the ground for him, for his body. Tendrils of fear squeezed my already exhausted heart and the threatened tears now fell furiously.

Then I realised where he must be.

I ran forward to the edge of the pit where the circle had been formed.

“Zak!” It was more a gasp than a word.

Lying at the bottom in a crumpled heap of blood and cloth was Zak.

“On the Spirits, no!” I couldn’t feel him within me. I pushed aside each person, forced out each voice, searched desperately for his mind.

There was nothing.

“NO!” I gasped as I tore myself from my own thoughts. Marcus rocked away from me, clearly shaken by everything he had seen. It had been mere seconds, such a lot to process in such a short space of time. Zak. All I wanted right here and right now was him. The need was core deep and binding. I leapt to my feet and stumbled as the blood pounded into my over-exhausted skull. Frantic, I looked around, needing to see Zak. Needing to be sure he was safe.

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Return to Glory

Here's a little something I did a while back on a prompt from a friend

Return to Glory

by J. Aurel Guay

7597d920I wake from glory. The stale air greets me with an indifference that makes me wonder why I would ever leave the soft warmth of my sheets. The alarm rings again, and I remember why I must leave my refuge. The Dreamscape is gone, now it is time to pay the dues.

I manage to struggle through my routine. A bland breakfast of toast and black coffee are my only comfort. My allotment of water is barely enough to wash the sleep from my eyes, but it will have to be enough. 1 hour down, seventeen to go until I can see her again.

Down on the street I join the silent throng making their way on the same journey. Every face looks the same. Every eye so empty that I cannot bear it, I wonder what would happen if everyone took their plugs out, what would happen to the world.

I place my own plug to my temple.

The soothing effect is immediate, and a sigh escapes my lips as those thoughts fade into an oblivious calm brought by suggestive brainwaves and accompanying music. Amidst the soothing melody that primes my mind for the work ahead, the instructions for the day flow passively from my ear into my brain.

I board the monorail that will take me within a short walk of my post. They have a lot for me to do today, not that I will notice. Time matters little when they feed you a constant stream of consciousness control. I don’t care though, it is all worth it for the red haired beauty that awaits me back in the Dreamscape.

My stop approaches. Sixteen hours until I can be in her sweet virtual embrace. I reach for my briefcase beside me on the floor. The rail lurches suddenly. I feel the hard knock of someone’s head against mine and my plug falls out.

The noise suddenly stops. Disoriented I look around, fellow passengers stand ready to exit, oblivious to me and to one another. Anxiety starts to set in. Without being plugged in I’m not sure what to do. I am missing my instructions, a gaping void is left open where the artificial peace once reigned.

There! My missing plug lies only a foot away on the floor. Reaching for it desperately I collide with a stranger likewise trying to get the device, this time we are both knocked to the floor. Looking up my own dark eyes meet impossibly blue ones, framed in auburn hair. For a moment I forget all about the plug, about the dreamscape, everything. She tucks her stray lock behind her ear and smiles at me. She takes the plug from the monorail floor and hands it too me, then reaches for the second plug I had not seen.

It seems that I should say something; ‘Sorry for bumping you’, ‘I hope your plug is OK.’ Anything. It has been so long since I’ve talked to another living person the words will not come. She smiles again and a burst of energy flows through my chest. Such a feeling as I have only felt in the Dreamscape.

She hesitates a moment, then fits her plug back into her temple. Her eyes still vivid as ever, change subtly to  look through me in a faraway stare. I watch silently as she stands, straightens her grey pencil skirt and exits the monorail without another glance my way.

The chime sounds, I have only seconds before the door closes and I will have missed my stop. My plug is in and I’m exiting the monorail before I know what I am doing. The soothing peacefulness returns and I back to my routine. I am late, if I don’t move quickly they will cut my time in the Dreamscape, my time with Her.
My pace quickens as I move down the packed street. I pass a woman in a grey pencil skit. Her auburn hair and blue eyes seem somehow familiar, but I can’t place it through the thick melody and steady stream of sedating brainwaves. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be at my post soon, then just fifteen and a half more hours until I can return to glory.

Blondes, Books and Bourbon – A WDB Anthology, by R. M. Ridley

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I had the great pleasure of being a co-author in the anthology in which Johnathan Alvey made his first public appearance. Now, the amazing Mr. R. M. Ridley has started us on the dark road that will follow Alvey through the White Dragon Black series of novels. Ridley’s latest work, Blondes, Books and Bourbon, brings us back to the short story format in a collection of stories from within the White Dragon Black universe and staring your favorite embittered, brooding detective, Johnathan Alvey.

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I’ll be honest, the level of dark paranormal and surprisingly detailed real-world mysticism in the WDB series is on the edge of what my sensitive self can handle. But then again, so are some of the things that I write myself… It is really Ridley’s talented writer that keeps me coming back for more. What I really love about Ridley’s writing, is that it’s not all about the magic and the occult. At it’s heart WDB is really about the life and struggle of Alvey, trying to make a difference, while struggling with the figurative inner demons that threaten to slowly strangle him (though there are also plenty of not-so figurative demons with the same goal).

Blondes, Books and Bourbon is an excellent example of this Ridley’s character driven writing. While Alvey is constantly faced with supernatural doings his most impressive solutions are those where he engages his Sherlock quality wit and Continue reading

Okay. So I leapt. Now what?

An author friend of mine is taking the leap. This is one you want to keep an eye on people!

Alyson Grauer

My name is Aly Grauer, and two days ago, I quit my day job.

Gosh, that sounds crazy. Completely insane. In fact, I’m sitting here at my desk at home, on a very uncomfortable stool-chair (my apartment is too small for a decent desk chair) listening to the clock tick and my stomach rumble. I’m thinking about how I’m going to cover bills when my small savings cushion runs out. I’m wondering how I can get more people to buy my book. I’m worried about my parents. My dad is finally coming home from the hospital today and my mom has surgery scheduled on Monday. I’m thinking about my brother and his wife and their baby, and how amazing and strange and miraculous life is, even with all the twists and turns and sudden drops and stops. I’m wondering how many people will think it’s selfish of me to…

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