HEA Book Tours Presents: Word Play by Amalie Silver

WORD PLAY

Author: Amalie Silver

Genre: Romantic Comedy

~ SYNOPSIS ~

Smut sells.

Michael Rourke learned this the hard way.

Struggling to make ends meet as a mystery writer, he sold his soul - and his pride - as he pedaled sex and lust writing under the pen name Christoph Strong.

No one knew he was the one behind the steamy stories on the bestsellers lists. And he planned to keep it that way.

Until he met her.

Monica Singer, an infamous blogger, is keen to discover the truth of his secret identity.

During a chance meeting at a book convention, Michael and Monica form an instant connection. And soon, an innocent online friendship becomes something so much more.

But as Michael starts to let his guard down, he doesn’t realize that the person he's learning to trust may be hiding secrets of her own.

Secrets that could ultimately destroy everything.

Add on Goodreads

~ PURCHASE LINKS ~

AMAZON US | AMAZON UK

~ TEASERS ~

~ Connect with the Author ~

Amalie Silver

Facebook | Goodreads | Website

Tour Host: HEA Book Tours, PR & More: http://heabooktours.blogspot.com/

Sunday Review: The City by Dean Koontz

Title: The City
Author: Dean Koontz
Source: Net Galley
Purchase Link: Amazon

Blurb:

A young boy, a musical prodigy, discovering life’s wonders—and mortal dangers.
His best friend, also a gifted musician, who will share his journey into destiny.
His remarkable family, tested by the extremes of evil and bound by the depths of love . . . on a collision course with a band of killers about to unleash anarchy.
And two unlikely allies, an everyday hero tempered by the past and a woman of mystery who holds the key to the future.

These are the people of The City, a place where enchantment and malice entwine, courage and honor are found in the most unexpected quarters, and the way forward lies buried deep inside the heart. Brilliantly illumined by magic dark and light, their unforgettable story is a riveting, soul-stirring saga that speaks to everyone, a major milestone in the celebrated career of #1 New York Times bestselling author Dean Koontz and a dazzling realization of the evergreen dreams we all share.



Review:

I used to love Dean Koontz. When I was in college I read his books constantly. he was one of my favorite authors and somewhere over the years I had phased him out. After hearing my husband talk about Mr. Koontz's books while he was reading the Odd Thomas series it made me want to dive into the author I used to love. When I saw this pop up on the recommendations for Net Galley I jumped at the chance to read it. Because to me, Dean Koontz was one of the classics!

Sighs - sometimes memories should just stay in the past.

I am really very unsure why I used to love his writing so much. After reading this novel it makes me question my own judgment. I am just, so disappointed. I wanted to love this story but I just can't. I am very saddened by this. It felt like his thoughts were being stopped mid sentence. He jumped around inside the scenes making me feel lost and confused.

And I didn't even realize the main character was African American until halfway through the book. Maybe I just missed the descriptions but I would think that it would  be important to paint a vivid picture of the main character from the get-go.

It wasn't all bad, the general premise of the story and the story line itself I loved. I really enjoyed 'the City' (a character in the story) and I loved the little boy.

I just didn't like the style of writing I guess.

Now if you are a current Dean Koontz reader then you will most likely love this book. But me, after being gone from his novels for so long, I just can't love it.

I'm going to give this a 3 star rating because I had a lot of issues with it. But overall the story itself was solid and I liked all the characters.

Gluten Free Friday Homemade Recipe - #2 Corn Bread

If you are like me and you are planning ahead for the holidays and you start to freak out because you realize you now can't make stuffing at Thanksgiving and Christmas have no fear. Ashley's here for you!

I love corn bread, it is so delicious and when I realized I could bake it form home and make it Gluten Free I was like, SCORE! So here is my secret to having an excellent corn bread dinner.

(As Always, everything is Gluten Free and/or Organic)

1 Cup of Corn Bread Mix
1 Cup of Flour
4 Tablespoons of Sugar
4 Teaspoons of Baking Powder
1/2 Teaspoons of Salt
1 Cup of Milk
2 Eggs, Beaten
1/4 Cup of Vegetable Oil

Mix all of the ingredients into a large bowl and beat until a smooth consistency is reached.

Pour into a pan and bake at 425 degrees for 15-18 minutes.

This yields about 9 servings.

I love this recipe and I hope that you do too.

Let me know if you try it and make sure to show me pics!!

On a scale of 1-5 I rate this a 4.5. Don't forget to add butter and honey to give it that extra kick when you are ready to serve.

Enjoy and Happy Eatings!

Beau Coup Presents: Curtiss Robinson

Protectors of the Vale
Blurb
The days are dark and terrifying for the defending forces of the Alliance, a steadfast coalition of elves, dwarves, gnomes and humans. Yet dual lights of hope spring from the lush forests of Celes’tia… Rosabela, an elven shapeshifter and healer, and her twin brother Wavren, a hunter and beastmaster, leave their home to join the Protectors of the Vale, an elite band of heroes who are the world’s best defense against the dark forces. Treacherous infiltrators hinder preparations for the approaching conflict as the enemy draws ever nearer. Rosabela and Wavren will need every ounce of their cunning, courage and skill to fight for the freedom of all as blades clash, arrows fly and magic shatters the air.

Excerpt
Just as he was preparing to meld into the darkness himself, a voice called out in poor, but understandable, common: “Wel-come to For’stedge, ci-ty of the orcs,” the voice called loudly. You have walk-ed right in-to our trap.” Captain Helio froze and scanned the area with his fine night vision. He saw no one, which was inexplicable given the nature of elven sight. He knew he was exposed, but his men were not. They would cover him at all costs, so he dared to call out to the orc. “You say we have walked into your trap, but I see no warriors. I think you are foolishly all alone, but I admire your courage. Come out and settle this in the open; settle this according to the code of honor the orcs claim to live by.” Captain Helio was scanning the streets carefully and still saw no one. He knew the entire Dae’gon Alliance Army was soon to arrive. He held his position, wondering if the orc would in fact show himself. He decided to move out of sight just in case. As he silently became one with the shadows, he carefully drew his wickedly curved polearm from its strap on his back. He crept forward a few steps and felt a tiny, almost imperceptible, breeze across the back of his neck. He knew he was no longer alone, but before he could react, a massive arm came in from behind, and searing pain shot through his back. As he looked down, he could see the tip of his attacker’s sword push through his fine armor. A voice whispered in poor common, “The war-ri-or code of hon-or is not my way. I am Night-shade, mas-ter of shadows.

Defenders of Griffon's Peak

Blurb Continuing The Heroes of Dae’Run Series with Volume 2 

The stalwart city of men takes up the fight against the Bloodcrest Forces in Defenders of Griffon's Peak as the orcs of Dek'Thal build alliances with the worst of mankind...the fearsome assassin's guild and a deadly pack of were-wolves. Ever in opposition, the Protectors of the Vale venture from the Far West to unite with the heroes of the Far East to defy the evil Bloodcrest Forces. Vlaad-the last human defender and champion of Griffon's Peak and his beloved Theila, a warlock of dark magic, leave their home to hunt down the orc leader Gorka Darkstorm and put an end to his evil plans. Cunning assassins lie in wait at every turn, deadly were-wolves prowl through the night, and the worst fears imaginable stand between the heroes and their duty. Vlaad and Theila will need more than skill with a sword and sorcerous might to fight the evil looming before them as shields splinter, blood flies, and magic lights up the sky.

 Excerpt
Vlaad was hammering away, as usual, when the smithy’s doorway became filled with a giant of a man. Vlaad stopped his work and turned to the visitor, noticing that the towering warrior stood nearly a foot taller than he.

“Hello friend and welcome to my shop. How may I be of service?” Vlaad asked pleasantly.

In a strange dialect that was a combination of unusually rolling consonants and dulled vowels the huge warrior said, “Vell met young mon, I ahm Andar Razamun of ze ‘interlandz and I ahm in need of repairz from many battlez. Can zhou ‘elp me?”

Vlaad was a little confused by the foreign accent. He thought the man said that his name was Andar and that he was from the Hinterlands. He just couldn’t be sure, but curiosity compelled him to smile and nod in response.

Andar said, “Bery vell. I can pay zhou now two gol’ coinz to make ze repairz. Do ve haf a dealz?”

The young smith wiped his palms off on his leather apron and extended his well-calloused hand to the warrior and said, “I will work on your armor, but you need only pay if you are satisfied with my services. I would like to hear about your adventures as a down payment if you would honor me with a few stories.”

Andar looked piercingly at the youth as if measuring him up. The young man stood barely six feet tall and was strong, but not unusually so. He had thick, dark eyebrows and a full goatee but had shaved his head completely bald like the elite guard of Griffon’s Peak. It wasn’t his physical appearance that caught Andar’s attention. He saw strength and discipline in the blacksmith’s deep brown eyes and sensed both honor and integrity within him like the knights of ancient legend. He asked, “Are zhou so zertain zhat I vill pay vhen ze verk is done? I ahm a stran-ger ‘ere and un-accustomed to such trust vrom utherz.”

Vlaad smiled as he ciphered through the thick accent. He was pretty sure the warrior asked if he was certain that the big man would pay after the work was complete, since he was a stranger that others did not usually trust. He nodded and repeated a phrase his O’ma had often said throughout the years: “Everyone pays sooner or later. It is only a matter of time. This is the law of justice to which we are all bound.”

The larger man thought for a moment and then laughed a deep and hearty laugh. He reached out and grasped the waiting hand Vlaad still held out to him. He shook it eagerly. Andar immediately noticed that although his hand dwarfed the blacksmith’s, there was great strength in Vlaad’s grip and the dark piercing eyes that he looked into were filled with fire and strength as well. This simple blacksmith was more than he appeared. He was ironically similar to the unshaped and untempered steel the blacksmith forged—ready to be formed into a keen and valuable blade. Andar Razamun was intrigued. He said, “I ‘ave ze story for zhou but it iz not my own adventure. It is ze legend of ze Zhield Vorrior.”

Guardians of the Mountain

Blurb
Continuing The Heroes of Dae’Run with Volume 3  Imprisoned…deceived…betrayed… “My love, Theila is held captive…my own kinsmen have failed me and my mind…well, I am not myself.” 
Wavren, Da’Shar, and Rosabela have been tasked with destroying the very essence of lycanthrope but the sacrifice is great. Which is greater; the life of an innocent man or the soul of a hero? One will be taken. 
A new enemy arises from ancient ruins assembling an army of the most feared and despised abominations ever to walk the land. They have but one order: slay every mortal in the realm. Only a poor scholar, a wizard, and a clan of dwarves have the power to hold them at bay while the forces of good mobilize for the sake of all living creatures. Orcs, assassins, and the most unlikely of allies are called on to intercede but can they be trusted in such desperate times? 
Love, faith, and courage flicker weakly amid the impending chaos and destruction in the final epic tale of the Heroes of Dae’run Saga. Summon your strength, draw your sword and embark on the most exciting adventure ever written by Beau Coup Publishing’s fantasy storyteller…Curtiss Robinson. 
Guardians of the Mountain awaits!

Excerpt

 Theila noticed Ja’Zaru’s flaming tail swishing back and forth like a cat anxiously awaiting an opportunity to pounce. She said, “I am no fool. Our agreement was for Pirate’s Cove. I will not release you to run amok from Pirate’s Cove to Dek’Thal.”

The cunning demon looked up with an evil grin and said, “Then we need a new agreement, Mistress.”

Theila closed her eyes. She pictured her friends in her mind. Their lives could be spared, she thought. She considered her father, Don. His death in her vision had been horrible. Finally, she pictured Vlaad. She could never allow him to be torn apart by the barbaric orcs. She loved him with every fiber of her being. It was this love that gave her pause. She knew what the demon wanted and giving in to him would mean never having the life she wanted. The choice seemed to take an eternity to make as she weighed the lives of her companions against her soul.

“Speak your terms,” the warlock commanded.

Ja’Zaru knew he had won. The greater demon stood to its full height. Its wings spread, and he threw his head back laughing with unbridled evil. As the massive balrog returned his gaze to Theila he said, “You will serve me in life and for one hundred years after.”

The warlock could not refuse and took a knee in subservience. The balrog laughed maniacally. Its patience and cunning had paid off. He would have revenge against Theila and now had a willing conduit to gain revenge on Gorka...

...Theila had acted in desperation to save her friends, herself, and her love. She had willingly sacrificed herself that they might live and somehow, they all had escaped. The most amazing part was that Vlaad had come for her and defeated the greater demon, resulting in her freedom from more than one hundred years of servitude to the evil being and in the process, banished it to the abyss as well. The greatest irony was that now she faced punishment for that amazing chain of events that simply could not have gone any better.

A sickly looking clerk standing beside the high platform where the council of judges sat stepped forward and spoke, “Will the demoness Theila please come forward?”

She glared at the clerk as a guard shoved her roughly forward, causing her to stumble and fall. Her leg shackles cut into her ankles and as she went down, her wrist shackles bit deeply into her flesh. The warlock took a moment to stand and then brush back a renegade tendril of hair that fell across her eyes.

The centermost judge, a withered old hag of a woman, signaled for the clerk to proceed.

The clerk cleared his throat and announced, “Demoness Theila of Westrun, formerly a warlock of the Black Gate, you have pleaded guilty of illicit transplanular summoning, entering into a demonic covenant with a balrog, and endangering the kingdom. Have you prepared your defense?”

Theila nodded but did not speak.

The panel of judges nodded back. A thick-bearded man on the far left, obviously the prosecutor, began with a simple question, “Do you know the laws which bind our order?”

Theila replied, “I do.”

The prosecutor continued, “In accordance with those laws, under what circumstances is a warlock permitted to summon beyond their rank and station?”

Theila returned, “Under no circumstances, which is why I pleaded guilty.”
The panel of judges shuffled uneasily at the sharpness of her reply.
The prosecutor then asked, “Are you prepared to suffer the punishment associated with your

crime as a last act of honor?”
The accused replied, “I would like to submit testimony under mitigating circumstances.”

Bio
Curtiss Robinson (1970-Present) was born in Key West, Florida, grew up in South Carolina, and joined the US Army in 1989. For twenty years he served in Ft. Bragg, NC, Schofield Barracks, HI, Ft. Bliss, TX and returned to work in Charleston, SCwith the SC Army National Guard. During his second combat tour (OEF 2007) he wrote his first adventure novel, "Protectors of the Vale", which mirrored the successes and failures of his PMT team in Afghanistan. In 2009, wrote "Defenders of Griffon's Peak" which further detailed the adventuers of his sword weilding and spell casting fantasy characters. Curtiss is a lifelong martial artist and RPG enthusiast which contributes greatly to his combat scenes and vivid imagery but it is love for epic heroes and tales of legend that fuel his love of writing.

Website   http://curtissrobinson.com/

Blog   http://curtissrobinson.com/blog/
Twitter  https://twitter.com/SCsoldier

Guest Post

While writing Protectors of the Vale late one night in Zabul Province Afghanistan, I suddenly became keenly aware that I was no longer alone. My men were sleeping soundly in their US Army-issued sleeping bags (affectionately called fart-sacks…yep, you can imagine why). It was late, probably around 0100 hours if memory serves me correctly, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle with anticipation. I was still in my boots and pants, but my body armor and helmet were across the bed. I reached under my pillow and felt the cool grip of my M9 Beretta pistol. I slid it quietly into the low-ready position and flipped the safety off. I looked around a little nervously, half expecting nothing and half expecting something unspeakable. I dared not stand up for fear of giving myself away with the creaking of the cheap mattress springs from my cot.
A cool breeze blew from nowhere. It danced across those now bristling hairs on the back of my neck sending shivers down my spine. A cold sweat began across my brow, and I felt the palms of my hands grow sweaty as well. I took a minute in the near darkness to put my eyes on the M4 rifle propped up on the bipod beside my bed. It comforted me like a loyal friend I knew would never let me down. I longed to belt my pistol and grab the rifle, but those damnable squeaky springs would be my undoing for sure if I did.
The room was bathed in a dim glow from the screen of my computer and moonlight streaming through the one window high in our small B-hut. My eyes were attuned to the poor light but I saw nothing. I strained to hear movement, but there was nothing but dreaded silence.
I considered waking my men, knowing that their loaded weapons were useless as they lay prostrate in their fart-sacks, but I hesitated knowing that a false alarm would be both humiliating and impossible to explain. In my mind, I pictured something terrible devouring them one by one like a human burrito bar at a Mexican restaurant. I know it was ridiculous, but my mind was now on high alert and everything seemed possible at that moment.
Suddenly, I noticed something I had overlooked. It was the laptop—more specifically the program I had open. I realized that I had been writing for several hours as I did every night after a long day of fighting the enemy, but I hadn’t saved in a long while. “Son of a biscuit,” I thought and mouthed to myself. How could I have been so careless? I was trapped! Both hands were on the pistol, and I was immobilized on the squeaky cot. I was willing to fight and even die protecting my men if something attacked, but I hated the thought of losing my work. I reconsidered the rifle just out of reach. I reconsidered waking my men. I even said a little prayer hoping that God would be with me but, in the end, I was drawn to that god-forsaken laptop!
I took a deep breath and moved my left hand away from the pistol. My right hand trembled a little as the anxiety built. I got my index finger of the left hand over the mouse pad and eased the cursor ever so quietly across the screen. Time slowed to a crawl as I tried to use my peripheral vision to watch the shadows while my attention focused on the save icon. It was in place, but I knew the mouse button would make an audible click when I pushed it. I knew the enemy would hear. He was always there, always listening and waiting for his opportunity to kill the lot of us. I scanned the room one more time, my head on the proverbial swivel. It was hell not knowing what was out there, but somehow all I could think of was not saving my work and dying at the hands of the enemy. My mind raced. I started picturing the enemy capturing us all. As they tortured my men with knives and hot brands, I could picture them slowly and painfully deleting my work one…character…at…a...time!
In one deft move, I threw caution to the wind and pressed that blasted mouse button and, as I had predicted, there was a click. It wasn’t that loud in reality but, at that moment, it sounded like a bass drum…ba-BUM! I sprang up and the springs from my cot squealed like screeching brakes. I whirled around ready to open up with my pistol, but there was nothing there. I holstered the Beretta and grabbed the rifle, knowing death was soon to be upon me. I pulled the charging handle back and let the buffer spring catapult the bolt forward, ramming a bullet into the chamber. It made yet another gargantuan noise…cha-chaunk! Who or whatever was out there surely knew I was awake by now, so I roused my men saying, “ON YOUR FEET!”
Twelve warriors sprang into action, grabbing pistols and rifles with reckless abandon. I dashed to the wall and took cover just as the enemy was about to kick our door in. My men took up positions behind cots and footlockers, preparing for the devil himself to come through the door.
Suddenly, my senior NCO flipped on the lights and said, “Sir…what in the hell?”
I was surprised to find myself lying in my cot with the laptop on my chest. Apparently, I had been having a nightmare when I called out to my men in my sleep. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I was having a bad dream about not saving my work so I lied. I said, “Just a little PTSD…I’m good men. I’m good.”
Not a word was ever spoken about that night out of respect for me but, I tell ya, the one fear I have as a writer is losing all of my work. As a result, I am always saving and emailing my wife backup copies. It really doesn’t bother me now that I am back in the good old US of A, but in combat the darnedest things can really get the best of you!

Fire & Ice Book Tour Present: An Etiquette Guide To The End By Maia Sett

Blurb:

Good manners never go out of style…do they?

There aren’t any zombies (yet), but the world is still at the brink of destruction: It’s 2028 and global warming has led to rising oceans, crazy weather, and resource scarcity. On top of that, someone just turned the Internet off. Seeing as how it’s humanity’s last chance to turn things around manners are, understandably, a bit frayed.

Bookish etiquette buff Olive O’Malley is busy microfarming her urban property and minding her own business (and her chickens) when the government comes calling. Their goal is to push the populace towards carbon-neutrality while keeping kvetching to a minimum, and they come with a proposal: transition Olive’s popular etiquette column to a radio show for the masses, and they’ll help Olive find her grandfather, who’s gone missing.

Olive doesn’t trust the hipster government officials who try to bribe her with delicious-but-probably-a-little-evil chocolate pastries, and declines their offer. (Politely, of course.) But they won't take no for an answer, and soon Olive is knee-deep in turmoil, eco-terrorism, and missing chickens. Now she has to untangle herself from their demands and figure out how to make sure her family (and her poultry) are safe before it’s too late.

Excerpt:

Chapter One—In the Land of Victory

My superhero power is definitely not sleeping. When I was looking for a house, my realtor rhapsodized about this bedroom’s perfect southern exposure, about the tastefully herbaceous wall treatment and charming old-world feel. Right now my room could be more accurately described as a floral-wallpapered sauna, full of an impossible heat, like three Julys stuffed into one. It isn’t helping.

I watch the overhead fan stop again, gyrate, and then restart before I roll over, the sheets coming with me. After a minute I shift to the other side, flinging the covers away with a sigh. The fan finally grinds to a halt, probably the victim of a wiring problem I haven’t been able to pin down, although lately I’ve been thinking it might just hate me.

I relocate to the living room and angle the pedestal fan my way. God, it’s hot. I close my eyes and lean back on the couch for a minute, hoping sleep will take me. The sofa is a faux leather hand-me-down that’s supple after years of wear, smelling faintly earthy, soft against my skin.

Eventually I switch the TV on. Our cable hasn’t worked properly in months, the service so erratic it’s like the people running the company are legless, as my grandfather Fred would say—a charming Irish way of saying spectacularly drunk, even though my grandfather hasn’t seen Ireland since he was a child. My eyes land on Fred’s easy chair, a pale green monstrosity he could barely squeeze through the front door when I finally convinced him to move in with me. His pipe, his books, and his old-man slippers are still where he left them.

After flipping through a bunch of static, I shut the TV off and switch to the radio, which promptly announces it’s five-thirty in the morning. I ponder what to do next, discarding juggling, mind-reading, and origami, although I spend more time thinking about mind-reading than I probably should, considering I’m the only one here. Finally I pull my computer tablet onto my lap and turn it on. I write an etiquette column for a spunky arts and culture website, and my latest instalment is due on Friday; other people’s problems are always a delightful way to get my mind off my own. I start to page through the letters, which all start with Dear Olive. Dear Olive, I’m convinced my neighbour is milking my goat. Dear Olive, my neighbour’s windmill is keeping me up at night. Dear Olive, my wife is hoarding solar panels. What do I do?

Three crashing noises erupt above my head, each more ominous than the last. I wait for it to stop, but twenty minutes later I’m clinging to the side of my house, staring down a pair of raccoons who seem intent on defiling my solar array. For a long while it’s just the three of us, locked in visual combat, but it’s my roof and unless they start paying rent, they’ve got to go. Eventually they get spooked by the noise of the six a.m. domestic surveillance drone overhead, which would make this the first time I’ve ever been happy to see a drone. I watch as it starts its first pass of the morning. They’re smaller than the military version—sleek, modern, ever-watchful. Rumour is they’re even biodegradable, although that hasn’t exactly endeared them to anybody.

After the raccoons finally lumber off I pull myself onto the roof and take a look at the solar panel they’ve sullied, the wires connecting the array to my house almost stripped. It’s not easy to carry out rooftop repairs quietly at six in the morning, and it definitely wouldn’t be polite to wake anyone up, but I don’t want to be back up here tomorrow, either. If I leave the panel like this, they’ll come back and finish the job, I know it. They’re organized.

I look up when a new-fangled Town Car, still boxy and authoritarian but now electric-powered, turns onto my street. I watch it as it goes; there are almost no cars on the roads these days, and the sight makes a faint sense of unease pulse through me. I hope whoever’s in that car isn’t carrying bad news for one of my neighbours.

Buy Links:
Amazon
iTunes
Google
Kobo
Barnes and Noble 

About the Author:

Maia Sepp is an author of humorous contemporary and dystopian fiction. She left the tech sector to write about sock thievery, migraines, the future, and…the tech sector.

The Sock Wars is her debut novel. The first chapter of The Sock Wars was published as a short story/novel excerpt titled Irish Drinking Socks, and became a Kobo bestselling short story. The Sock Wars has been a top-100 digital bestseller on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and the iBookstore, as well as a genre and Writing Life bestseller on Kobo. It is available in print and ebook formats.

Maia’s second novel is The Migraine Mafia, a story about a nerdy thirtysomething’s quest to come to terms with a chronic illness. It is available online everywhere in print and ebook formats. It has been a genre bestseller on Kobo.

Her latest is a humorous near-future dystopian novella, titled, An Etiquette Guide to the End Times, available now!

Author Links:

Website
Twitter
Facebook 

Giveaway:

Enter to win a $10 Amazon gift card! The giveaway will run the length of the tour. Open internationally. Enter through Rafflecopter.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

NEW RELEASE BLOOD WHITE BOOK FOUR OF THE BLOOD SERIES

Blood White contains a novella, Blood Gold and deleted scenes, interviews and other extra tidbits from the blood series that could not make it into the other three print novels.

This is an Insiders Guide to the Blood World.

Do you wonder how the Algula race came to be? Or how Earth and everything we know have been manipulated over time and the world we think we know isn't even close to what reality is.

Take a step back in time with Blood Gold, the short story inside this book to discover the truth about our existence and how we really came to be called humans.

Also inside this book discover what makes the main characters tick as you take a journey into their thoughts with interviews with King Zayn, Princess Nikole, Princess Leigh and Princess Haydar. As an added bonus enjoy deleted scenes from the Blood Series Trilogy.

Purchase Links

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Blood-White-Insiders-Guide-ebook/dp/B00LEZQQP8/ 

B & N www.barnesandnoble.com/w/blood-white-ashley-nemer/1119887160

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/452311 

All Romance Ebooks https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-bloodwhite-1557712-143.html 

Bookstrand http://www.bookstrand.com/blood-white 

Author Bio

Ashley, also known as Niki Becker, is married and lives in Houston with her husband Tony. They have two dogs, Toto and Doogie. They have been together for over 9 years and he brings her more joy than she could ever imagine as a child. She loves to read and has been hooked on the romance genre ever since her lifelong best friend gave her "Ashes to Ashes' by Tami Hoag to read when they were younger.

Ashley finds her strength through her family, especially her parents. They always support her in life; they push her to strive for greatness. There once was a motto that Ashley heard in her youth through her Taekwondo life 'Reach for the Stars' and that is what Ashley has always done. It was through her upbringing that the values Ashley has and displays come from. With her parents always cheering her on in life she was able to grow up having faith in herself and her ability to conquer the world.

Ashley enjoys writing many different genre’s of fiction. Her areas range from science fiction/ paranormal, mystery, romance, poetry and erotica (using pen name Niki Becker.)

EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE

The beginning of the earth’s creation …

Fire and lightning flared around the mountaintops of Har ha-Elohim. The air whipped back and forth while the four Gods paced up and down the valleys. There was a storm brewing in the air. The taste of salty rain touched the four tongues of the deities who were invading this new realm.

“Isaf, it is time to make this land flourish,” Hubal commanded. He raised his arms out past his sides, over his shoulders, and then above his head. The rain began to beat down on them, growing stronger with each inch his arms moved up his body.

“Hubal, what do you want me to use as a starting point?” Isaf moved over to stand next to his leader. Each step that he took made the ground beneath him rumble.

“Take this land with you; we will make a new home on this plane called Earth. We will be Gods greater than all others. Our pantheon will not only have our realm, it will have a planet to claim as well.”

Tornadoes and water spouts started to form along the land and lakes. Na’ila came behind Isaf and stood next her bonded mate. Hubal watched her take Isaf’s hand, and then he motioned for Manad to join them in the valley.

“Sun, moon, ground, air, water, all of us joined together, we will create the greatest place in all of eternity. We will create Earth.”

The four deities held hands in a circle and began to chant low. Their voices carried over the plains and through the valley. Isaf’s ground started to move under them, and within a few hours, their reality changed. They began to watch as trees, rivers, grass, shrubbery, and sunlight became their surroundings. When they let go of their hands, a loud, cracking thunderbolt went off in the sky. They looked off to the east and knew that their enemy, Zeus, was casting them out.

He’d cast them out of the realm of other Gods, the place they had known as their own for their lifetimes. He had cut them off from their families, mates, and children alike. It was up to these four beings to bring life to this new planet, make it flourish. Hubal knew that once this was a success, they would be able to go out and claim other parts of the galaxy, and eventually the other Gods would seek out their creation as a new place for escape, peace, and freedom.

“We did it,” Manad said. He broke free of the circle and ventured off into the west. He moved across the grass, the sun following him along his journey.

“Look how the blades of grass follow the light. They move in an east to west pattern,” Na’ila noticed.

“Manad doesn’t know how powerful he is going to be here on this new planet. Everything will rise by his command and set by his slumber.” Hubal could see into the future. He could feel and taste what their paths held for them all.

“And what about you?” Isaf said. “What happens to you when your friend is off walking away?”

“I’ll follow him. Every day, when his sun sets, my moon will be there to catch him and follow the same course he took that day, cleaning up any mess that might have been left in his wake.”

“And this is the life you want for yourself?” Na’ila’s disapproving gaze wasn’t missed by the two other Gods standing there.

“No, it is my duty to protect us all. I brought is here; I will see that we all thrive.”

“Then let us begin the creation of this new realm.” Isaf kneeled on the ground. He placed his hands palm down on the fresh blades of grass. His magik was different. He balanced himself out. When in one section he created earthquakes, in another he created mountains. He brought land and water together before he was done, and a solid continent was formed, a vast and glorious creation.

Author Links

www.artofsafkhet.com

www.ashleynemer.com

www.nikibecker.info 

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Ashley’s published works under

Ashley Nemer & Niki Becker

Novels

Maverick Touch: The Cat by Ashley Nemer March 25^th, 2013

Maverick Touch: The Highway by Ashley Nemer March 24^th, 2014

Blood Purple by Ashley Nemer September 24^th, 2012

Blood Yellow by Ashley Nemer July 3^rd, 2013

Blood Green by Ashley Nemer April 28^th, 2014

Blood White by Ashley Nemer July 14^th, 2014

Special Assignment by Niki Becker December 17^th, 2013

Short Stories

Bud’s Christmas Wish by Ashley Nemer November 17^th, 2012

Bud’s Christmas Miracle by Ashley Nemer November 24^th, 2013

The Café (Temptation Tuesday) by Niki Becker May 7^th, 2013

Fantasy Cruise (Temptation Tuesday) by Niki Becker July 2^nd, 2013

The Backyard (Temptation Tuesday) by Niki Becker August 6^th, 2013

Sekhmet’s Revenge Volume One through Four by Ashley Nemer & Stacy A. Moran September 28, 2013

Soul Mates by Ashley Nemer and L.S. Broomfield October 2^nd, 2013 (Through Secret Cravings Publishing)