Q&A WITH AUTHOR
Q: What is the first book that made you cry?
Q: What are some traps aspiring writers should avoid?
Q: Have you ever gotten reader’s block?
Q: As a writer, what would you choose as your avatar or spirit animal?
Q: What’s the best way to market your books?
Q: Do you view writing as a spiritual practice.
Q: How do you select the names of your characters?
Q: Do you hide any secrets in your books that only a few people will find?
Q: What is your favorite childhood book?
Q: Do you believe in writer’s block?
By Any Means
He heard Lucas calling out in the distance and his reedy cry, infused with terror, made the hair on Keith’s arms stand on end. Keith ran down a hospital hallway that seemed to stretch on forever, pulling like warm taffy into a horizon he would never reach.
“Daddy!” Lucas screamed, a word he hadn’t used since he was a toddler.
“I’m coming!” The walls shrunk, squeezing against him; impossibly, the cold hardness of the wall rubbed against his elbows, the air heavy in his lungs, the sour smell of worms and shit, the incline steeper, impossibly slow. He couldn’t move his legs fast enough.
Something followed him. Not a person; a presence. A darkness that swallowed even the dark, making it more than just the absence of light. Something malevolent, something he couldn’t even name. He dared not look back lest he give it form. He knew if he saw it, it would consume him whole.
His son wailed once more.
The hallway door was closer, and he grabbed onto the knob, fearing it would slip from his hands, and turned--
Inside, he looked up, the air leaving his lungs and thought from his mind—a monster. Under the green tint of lights, strapped to a vertical gurney, arms outstretched, standing on display, the monster was his son. Skin desiccated, wrinkled, tubes running along his limbs, pumping him like a human cow, viscous fluid siphoning from him, withering him to nothing, his life force draining into machines. His son’s eyes rolled back, and the top of his head—his head, what’s wrong with his head—a red seam ran along the skull and the rest, where his hair should be, was gone, removed like the top of a teapot. Lucas lifted his hand and reached toward his father, his lips parched, his voice like wet gravel, “Help me…”
Keith woke, his body wet with perspiration, the nightmare fading, his heart slowing to its regular rhythm, how silly, how stupid, I haven’t had a nightmare in ages, and he looked over to check on his son in the bed next to him.
Lucas was having a seizure.
For a moment he was tangled in his blanket, then he rushed to Lucas’s side. Not knowing what else to do, he held him. “I’m here, son, I’m here.” Keith hadn’t witnessed a seizure before, and it scared him, the uncontrollable movements, hands flailing, teeth grinding; the sound of sandpaper against metal, the body contorted, turbulent and twitching.
His son was stronger than Keith imagined; he could barely hang onto him. Lucas’s feet swiveled and inadvertently hit Keith in the shin. He held onto his son, feeling Lucas’s waves of muscle tension, releasing and tightening and repeating. Not since Lucas was a swaddled baby had Keith held him so long and so tight, body to body, embraced.
“I won’t let you go. I won’t let you go.”
The convulsions didn’t stop. They continued for over a minute, an eternity, and kept going. Keith didn’t know what to do. Instead, he whispered, “It’s gonna be all right, Lucas. You’re safe. You’re safe.”
Title: Work for It (Irresistible Billionaires Book 3)
Author: Ashley Bostock
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date:January 22, 2019
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.
Billionaire CEO Dylan Truex was burnt out. Not from his empire, DIRTY GAINS, but from his celebrity status. Having the body he did as well as the motivation to lead the pack, was no longer all it was cracked up to be. Heading to Estes Park for a two-week getaway all by himself sounded like the perfect solution to all his problems. Until he arrives and finds that the condo has been double-booked. Sharing the condo, he can handle. Cute blondie tempting him to break his no-sex bet, err…
When Lina Armstrong runs away from her old life—walking out on her job and leaving behind her family—the best thing she can do is reclaim her true self. No boss. No family. No men. No anybody. Then comes handsome stranger Dylan Truman threatening to wreck her alone time at Pine Lake. Yeah, he’s cute and all, but so are the elk and that doesn’t mean she wants to share a condo with them.
When the blizzard hits and whiteout conditions make it unsafe for either of them to go anywhere, they are forced to stay put in the condo together. What started off as a bad thing, starts to turn into something good. Two weeks with this cocky hard body? Alright, if she must.
It shouldn’t be a problem as long as she can keep her hands to herself and stop imagining if his tongue has as much stamina as the rest of his body.
Ashley Bostock was born and raised in Colorado where she currently resides with her husband, two children and her animals. She loves reading, writing, and music and is always trying to find more time in the day to incorporate all three. Seeking an outlet and pursuing her life-long passion for writing, she began composing her first novel in 2013. She has traveled all over the world, but still has an extensive list of places she would love to visit. Anywhere near a sky-blue ocean will always be at the top of that list. She carries a Bachelor’s Degree in History with a concentration in Elementary Education from Metropolitan State College of Denver. While she loves children, she now fears teaching, which probably has something to do with being a stay-at-home mom. She is mostly active on Instagram, but feel free to follow her at any or all of her social media pages!
Kissing Princeton Charming
His eyes are bright, like he sees something he likes, something he wants. It takes me a moment to realize that thing is me.
His hand cups my cheek. “You are an enigma, Charlie Hayes.”
I draw in a tight breath. “And you are very smooth.”
Wait, how does he know my last name? Or for that matter where I live. This whole thing is unnerving.
“You like smooth?” His mouth is so close. His lips practically on mine.
God, I want him. But warning bells blare in my head. I should tell him to leave. Instead, I stutter over words, “I’ve never had smooth.” It’s the truth. I’ve had boys kiss me who didn’t know what they were doing, sloppy and unremarkable. I’ve had guys kiss me who were desperate and trying way too hard.
But Spencer Beckett is neither a high school boy nor a clingy college guy. He is something else entirely. He knows what to do as he lifts my chin ever so slightly. As he licks his lips, tempting me to lick my own. His eyes search mine and for a moment I feel found — or at least seen.
“You said yes before,” he rasps, blue eyes searching mine.
I whimper, “I…”
“I’m going to kiss you now, Charlie.” His head lowers, and his lips brush against mine before I have a chance to change my mind.
One kiss and I know I’m in trouble.
One taste and I know my resolve is gone.
A John Smith Thriller #1
by Glen Kenner
Genre: Action Thriller
The first page hits you like a deadly punch to the throat and never lets up!
John Smith is a First, one of a few men that walk among us seemingly as normal as anyone, but with a secret so unimaginable that their very existence is a threat to humanity. But times are changing and the Firsts are eager to live openly and take their rightful place in the world once again. The only thing stopping them is John, who has seen the best and worst of all of mankind and knows that some truths are best kept secret. He has kept his own life simple and unassuming because he knows it’s the only way to stay out of the system and under the radar of world governments, secret organizations, and assassins alike. But when an old enemy shows up on the same day that a beautiful young woman needs his help, John quickly finds himself in the fight of his life against elite hit squads, ruthless psychopathic murders, and a black-ops cutting-edge technology that was specifically designed to track down him and other Firsts like him, all while trying to unravel the mystery of this new woman in his life without getting her killed and keeping her from killing anyone who doesn’t deserve it. From the American Midwest to Syria and Paris, John Smith is both predator and prey, but he can no longer survive on his own, and so with the help of the only people he hopes he can trust and more luck than he deserves, he faces down his fears and takes on his enemies the only way he knows how: with everything he’s got.
Glen Kenner is the author of the John Smith thrillers and numerous short stories published in the US and Japan. He was born in St Louis, Missouri, in 1969, and grew up 30 miles southwest in High Ridge, MO. He received a B.A. - English from the University of Missouri - Columbia and an M.A. - Media Communications from Webster University before moving to Wakayama, Japan, with his wife to teach English as a Second Language to public school children for three years. Now back in St Louis, he enjoys writing suspenseful, action-packed thrillers, painting, traveling, and volunteer work for local literacy non-profits.
Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway!
The Ways We Follow
by L. Salt
Genre: Futuristic Urban Drama
St. Petersburg, Russia, 20XX.
Four best friends, young, talented and ambitious try to find their own way in a reality where people can't speak and even think freely.
Laura Danco is a young talented designer who returns to the city after studying and working in the UK. Friends tell Laura about new controlling institution, the Department of Censorship. All media sources are under control, government opposition is destroyed completely, minorities are under threat. Everyone who resists is obliterated.
Laura tries to live an ordinary life of every young person in a big city--friends, relationships, travels, parties...Everything is changing when a reputable design company employs her as an assistant to a dangerously attractive, scandalous architect and designer, Daniel Polanskiy, whose ambitious and outstanding projects don't comply with the government views and its dictated taste. Daniel's colleagues believe he is insane, the press calls him "Russian Gaudi", the Department of Censorship watches his every movement.
The situation becomes even more complicated, when Laura meets her Uni-mate from the UK, Mark Evans. Completely lost between two absolutely different characters--friendly, amiable Mark and sophisticated, bad-tempered, but ingenious Daniel--she struggles to whom to give her heart.
The future looks bleak for Laura, as the company gets into trouble, when the Tax Office conducts a detailed financial audit, the Department gives Daniel the final warning, and one of Laura's friends is killed by his boyfriend. The plot leads characters through many challenges--from love to betrayal, from revenge to a murder. The story which starts like a comedy is turning into a tragedy. Will friends find their way to follow?
This is book 1 of the duology. Laura and friends are back in book 2, "Angels of Zion".
L. Salt is an emerging, multi-genre writer from the UK. She studied History of World Culture and did Master’s Degree in Art Expertise at the St. Petersburg University of Culture and Arts.
She was born in Belarus and has lived for many years in Ukraine and Russia, then finally settled down in the North of England, where she currently lives with her husband. L’s interest in writing dates back to her teenage years. Apart from creative writing, she has a passion for travelling, arts, history, and foreign languages.
Her debut novella “His Personal Reich” was release on April, 26 by Crazy Ink Publication. Her novel “The Ways We Follow”, a futuristic urban drama inspired by the glorious city of St. Petersburg, where the author has lived for almost ten years, was released on May, 25 by Wild Dreams Publishing. Her short stories appeared in different anthologies.
Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway!
Snowed In – Ross and Ashton
Are you a book reviewer?
Ash moistened his lips and scratched between his dog’s ears. “More or less, yeah. He definitely likes to be on the receiving end of any affection.” He swallowed hard. He could still taste Ross on his tongue, bad morning breath and all.
He lurched to his feet. “I’m going to see what I can do about excavating some space for Porthos to do his business. He’s going to have to sooner or later, and I don’t want to wreck the joint.” Ash had to get up and do something. He had to get away from Ross or his brain might explode.
“Good point.” Ross grimaced and stood up too. “Can you shovel, with your arm like that? Do you want me to do it?”
Ash forced a little smile. Ross’ words cemented his worst fears. Ross hadn’t kissed him out of affection or even nostalgia. He’d kissed Ash out of pity. It turned Ash’s stomach. “No, thanks. I’ll be sore, but I really want to move around a bit.” He ran for the
Was this really what life was going to be from now on? Pity kisses from guys who occasionally wanted to throw him a bone, and who didn’t have any better options? A sedate anchor job covering sedate local news from the safety of a swanky downtown newsroom, instead of being out in the field like he’d been born to do?
He struggled into his coat and pushed the intrusive thoughts out of his head. The doctors had warned him about this after his injury, both in Turkey and in Germany. Intrusive thoughts were normal. Bouts of depression were normal. He’d survived a major explosion, and he’d had to make some major lifestyle changes as a result. It was okay to be upset, and it was okay to be frustrated. Ash should be patient with himself, they said. And they also acknowledged it would be a challenge for
He attacked the snow with vigor. He’d made it out alive when plenty of others had not. He was not going to squander his second chance on self-pity and pining for a guy who’d dumped him almost a decade ago. He was here, breathing free air. He might be in pain, and he might not have full use of all of his limbs, but he could use most of his parts and that was enough. He was a lucky man. He just needed to remind himself sometimes.
He hacked into the snow, using his anger and his grief to power through the pain. Okay, sure, this sucked, and he’d need more surgery on his shoulder eventually. He’d get it. In the meantime, chances were that he’d find himself in a position to need to shovel. He needed to get used to it. He needed to toughen up, and get used to doing things for himself. Two hours later, he’d carved out enough space to function as a doggy outhouse. It would be foul soon enough, but it had become almost like a little snow cave. Ash had worked up a good sweat, and he’d accomplished something to take care of Porthos. He hadn’t had to depend on Ross, or anyone else. He’d done it himself. He could be proud of it.
Being locked in a room with a dead body is not on my bucket list.
Being locked in a room with a faceless corpse, the dim light making his exposed, bloody skull bones gleam like rubies, is definitely not on my wish list.
The scream that wants to come out turns inward, helplessness stopping it somewhere in my chest, com-forted by my heart, which only wants it to go quiet. Screaming won’t fix this. I can’t find an escape by making noise.
Reality has a way of dominating.
I look down at the dead man.
Who is very, very real.
I move gently on the chaise, taking the deepest breath I can, holding it for too long. Suspending myself in time and space feels like the only out. I can’t actually leave. Second best is closing off my air supply, shut-ting my eyelids, not moving. Freezing in place gives me an illusion to grasp, the fleeting seconds im-portant.
My hand slides under a throw pillow. The cool haven of hidden fabric makes me shiver.
A black spider, all too familiar, comes off the pillow my hand is under.
That makes me shiver even more.
I jump up, shocked by the intrusion of another living being.
The door calls out to me.
The spider crawls down one leg of the chaise, then makes its way dispassionately along the tip of the dead guy’s shoe.
In order to get to the door, I have to go around the dead body. In order to move, I have to feel the sensa-tion of his blood on my skin. When I bend my arm, the dried blood on my shoulders and neck crackles. It puckers, like child’s glue spread over skin and allowed to dry for fun. For amusement.
This is anything but amusing.
Going All In
Lena thought it time to spill the despicable secret. Her lips parted, but no words came out as fear clutched her heart. She winced at her cowardice.
“What is it?” Trevor asked, features turning sympathetic. “You can tell me, whatever it is.”
“I don’t know how.” She forced a smile.
“Just say it.”
“I was thinking I like you. A lot.” She sighed, nervously fluffing her long blonde hair. “And I don’t want to scare you off.”
“How would you scare me off?” His stare became intense, gaze never wavering from her face.
She took a deep breath, bolstering courage. “I’m not normal. Not like everyone else.”
His grin was filled with indulgence, making him more handsome than before. “If I wanted normal, I would have asked normal out. Instead, I asked you.”
“But you don’t really know me. I’m different.”
“I’m different too, if you haven’t noticed?”
She had. All throughout dinner and dessert, he’d not looked at any other woman in the room, not even the waitress when ordering. His mesmerizing gaze had remained on her.
“I need certain things. Things normal women don’t want.” She looked down at her hands in her lap, not believing she was going all in this soon.
“Tell me,” he insisted. “I won’t judge. Whatever it is.”