Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Blitz and #Review: Alliance by Aubrie Dionne #YA #scifi


4 Stars: Let me tell you. I don't like spiders, but to read a story about alien ones? Yeah, creepy. LOL

Alliance was a good story. I liked the fact that it took place in a very well constructed future-state, and I liked the characters because they all reminded me of some of my other favorite characters. The author does a fantastic job explaining what it would be like in the future, and how it would be to live in the future. The relationships are very well written with enough conflict to keep me intrigued.

You should consider reading this book. I enjoyed it. I recommend this book to anybody that likes sci-fi with a hint of creep (remember the spiders... *shudder*). Have fun reading.

Blurb:
“Saving him meant saving her colony…”
Lyra Bryan has been saving people her whole life from a chick in the ventilation pipes to her mentally ill brother when his mind drifts back to Old Earth. She meets her match when she finds a gorgeous alien man aboard the arachnid ship. Captured after a failed attempt to save his people, his spirit is broken, craving only vengeance. To save her colony, Lyra must save his body and soul.
Lyra’s lifemate, Tauren, is jealous of her obsession with the alien man and will do anything in his power to break them apart. While they travel to the arachnid’s home world to defeat the mother brain once and for all, they must set aside their differences and work as a team. But, can Tauren be trusted? 


Buy link: 
Barnes and Noble:

Bio:
Aubrie Dionne is an author and flutist in New England. Her books have received the highest ratings from Romance Times Magazine, as well as Night Owl Reviews and Two Lips Reviews. She has guest blogged on the USA Today Happily Ever After Blog and the Dear Teen Me blog and signed books at the Boston Book Festival, Barnes and Noble, and the Romance Writers of America conference. Her writings have appeared in Mindflights, Niteblade, Silver Blade, Emerald Tales, Hazard Cat, Moon Drenched Fables, A Fly in Amber, and Aurora Wolf. Her books are published by Astraea Press, Spencer Hill Press, Entangled Publishing, Inkspell Publishing, Lyrical Press, and Gypsy Shadow Publishing. When she's not writing, Aubrie teaches flute and plays in orchestras.


Links:
@authoraubrie




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Friday, February 7, 2014

Virtual Book Tour: Dragons in Pieces by Lee French #Blougtour #Sci-fi


Virtual Book Tour Dates: 1/27/14 - 2/24/14

Genres: Science Fiction, Adventure







Blurb:


All Bobby wanted was a girl to come home to after a hard day of work. Like the last one said before she left, he was going exactly two places - no and where – and he was happy with that. But somebody had other plans for him. A murder. The Terrorist Watch List. For what? Underage drinking? Things couldn't possibly get worse. Right?

Oh yes, they could.

A lot.

He wouldn't believe superheroes were real if he wasn't one himself.

Tiny robot dragons send him chasing his humanity and his future, on the trail to discovering his past and a place to call 'home'. If he's lucky, maybe he can get a beer there.





Excerpt:



It was Matthew, they recognized him from the photos. He wore jeans and nothing else. Every part of him left bare was smeared with blood and his eyes were panicked, terrified. It took him a moment to register both that the kitchen light was on and two strange men sat at his table, then he freaked out. In the space of perhaps two seconds, the jeans disappeared, his body grew muscles and fur and claws, his head reshaped with a fanged snout. He was easily nine feet tall and the scariest damn werewolf Bobby ever saw, probably because he was in the room with it, and it wasn’t just a costume.



The swarm was a much better place to be, and Bobby went there. Stephen, though, seemed calm, saying, “How apropos that a vampire and a werewolf should fight this close to Hollywood. With dragons, to boot. I wonder if we’ll attract any orcs or fairies.”



Matthew let out a loud roar and jumped at Stephen, the two of them started fighting. Bobby, unable to get into it much without causing a problem for Stephen, got the dragons to open the door a crack so ten could slip out and keep watch. If someone was coming, he wanted to know about it before they arrived and got involved. It seemed clear that Stephen could hold his own against this thing, but who knew how much they’d beat each other up before one of them lost. To try to help the odds, the dragons went in for the werewolf’s legs.



The little critters couldn’t really do much more than annoy Matthew, they found his skin to be much too tough for their little teeth. He’d be scratched up later, but not really injured from this assault. They had to be careful, too, to avoid getting hurt themselves. Stephen threw the werewolf into the fridge, Matthew returned the favor by tossing the vampire through an inner wall, putting Stephen in the bedroom unexpectedly. They did what Bobby thought of as wrasslin’, except for the fangs and claws and superhuman strength they both apparently had. It carried them back through the apartment, wrecking it as they went, until Stephen was thrown through a window and Matthew chased after, like a dog going after a stick.



Now it was public. There was a very real chance that one or more of Matthew’s neighbors noticed the initial noises and already called someone about it, but Bobby was willing to bet this spectacle would get some attention. He could almost imagine the call to the police. ‘Officer, there’s two costumed freaks wrasslin’ around outside, making a heckuva ruckus!’ Or however the locals would say that. The swarm followed them out, keeping a watch all around. There just wasn’t anything he could think of to do that would actually help Stephen directly. Aside from how much nothing he could do to harm or even distract Matthew, he was terrified of what would happen if a dragon got crushed.



They were horribly loud. Matthew sounded like a giant angry dog, Stephen sounded somewhat like a person making large cat noises. Stephen made an effort at keeping them close to the apartment, but Matthew really enjoyed tossing the vampire for distance and chasing after him. Bobby suspected that Stephen would just have flown out of reach, but the goal was actually to subdue the werewolf, not just get away from him. As a result, Bobby discovered that Stephen could heal himself, but every time he did, he looked a little more haggard.



Things, of course, got worse. A police car screamed onto the scene, brakes screeching as it halted sideways to block their passage farther down the street. Bobby saw it coming, but couldn’t think of anything to do about it. Really, he was just as helpless as any other bystander here. When he had some time to breathe, he’d try things and see what he could do with his dragons in this sort of situation, but for now, he had nothing to contribute. It was an unpleasant feeling, one that reminded him a lot of how he felt when that needle went into his leg at Jasmine’s apartment, except that this just kept going on and he didn’t get the luxury of blacking out for any part of it.



Out of the car with his gun drawn, the cop shouted for the two men to freeze and get on the ground. Matthew had his attention drawn by the command, and Bobby reacted as he saw the werewolf bolting for the car. This was stupid, but he couldn’t let the cop get hurt just for being the one to show up. Faster than a speeding werewolf, Bobby re-formed right in front of the cop so Matthew could hit him instead. When the claws swiped through the space, Bobby exploded into dragons again, causing the sharp claws to pass right through empty air.



Buy Links:






About the Author:


Lee French lives in Worcester, MA with two kids, two mice, two bicycles, and too much stuff. She is an avid gamer and active member of the Myth-Weavers online RPG community, where she is known for her fondness for Angry Ninja Squirrels of Doom. In addition to spending much time there, she also trains year-round for the one-week of glorious madness that is RAGBRAI, has a nice flower garden with absolutely no lawn gnomes, and tries in vain every year to grow vegetables that don't get devoured by neighborhood wildlife.



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Giveaway:

Author Lee French is giving away a print copy of Dragons in Pieces. Enter at Goodreads!






   

    Goodreads Book Giveaway  

   
        Dragons in Pieces by Lee French    
   
     

          Dragons in Pieces      

     

          by Lee French</ a>      

     
         
            Giveaway ends February 24, 2014.          
         
            See the giveaway details             at Goodreads.          
     
   
   
      Enter to win

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Book Tour: Four Rubbings by Jennifer Hotes #blogtour #horror


Virtual Book Tour Dates: 1/30/14 – 2/13/14
Genres:
Mystery/Thriller/Suspense
Horror/Occult
Teen/Young Adult





Blurb:

Halloween.
The night the barrier between the dead and the living is as thin as muslin. Fourteen-year old Josie, haunted by the death of her mother, leads her best friends to an ancient cemetery to rub graves. Convinced she will come away with proof of her mother’s spirit at last, the evening takes an unexpected turn as the teens gravitate four ways into the haunted grounds. Set against the backdrop of the rainy Pacific Northwest, four graves will be rubbed, touching off a series of events that will rattle their once mundane lives. From the lonely World War II hero to an accused witch, the people buried beneath the stones have stories that need an ending. The journey to unravel the mysteries leaves the friends wondering if the graves would’ve been better off left alone.

Excerpt:

WHY DO PEOPLE have to mess with the dead on Halloween
anyway? They’re dead. Respect the dead. Didn’t their folks teach
them any better? I squint into the distance at a cluster of folks
standing inside the cemetery gates.
“I’ll scare them good and give them a piece of my mind along
the way,” I mumble as I stomp the three hundred or so yards it takes
to reach the cemetery entrance from my caretaker’s cottage. Can’t
help but think if I had just done my job in the first place, I wouldn’t
be standing knee-deep in a pile of trouble right now.
Not five minutes ago I’d stood staring out the kitchen window
watching a dull, dreary day change into something better. Leafless
gray trees framed an orange and white fireball sky, framed it like
iron gates, and that is when I’d remembered. Damn, Grace.
Ten years of watching over Lakefront Cemetery and tonight of
all nights I’d forgotten to lock the gates. My forty-year-old bones felt
soggy from a day of rain-chilled grave tending. Clearly, I was
thinking more about a hot bath and a cup of warm cider than doing
my job. Ah, well. With an hour before sunset, I’d figured I had
plenty of time to put things right.
I’d found my mud-caked work boots and damp flannel coat
piled on the back porch where I’d shed them an hour ago. As I
shoehorned my boots onto bare feet, I’d spotted a group gathering at
the cemetery entrance. I checked my watch. Five o’clock seemed
awful early to start Halloween trouble, but there they were. I made
out four bodies, four or five. Couldn’t tell for certain without my
glasses, and I wasn’t willing to trudge back through the cottage with
muddy boots to collect them up. I’d know soon enough.
As I stomp across the grounds, I rehearse what I will say. I’ll
give them a lecture about respecting the dead, then shoo them off
speedy quick. All worked up, I don’t pay no mind to the noise my
boots make as I dodge headstones and thunder through wet leaves
and mud. I want them to hear me coming and be afraid. Too bad I
don’t have time to go back for my hefty flashlight, or better yet, a
rusty shovel, to shake at them. Boy, the stories they could tell their
friends tomorrow about the crazy cemetery lady and her wicked
shovel.
“You’ll all think twice about coming around here again after I
get through with you,” I spit into the wind.
As I near, I see they’re decked out in costumes. I count four of
them, teenagers, of course. It’s mostly the teens that make trouble
around here. I duck behind the Yessir’s family tomb to get a better
look. “Sorry if I’m blocking your view, folks,” I whisper.
I steal quick peeks around the white marble structure and make
out an oversized superhero, a football player, Pocahontas and some
kind of dapper fella.
Pocahontas, a tiny copper-headed girl, is giving them
instructions. I can’t hear everything she says, but catch phrases like,
“Let a stone call you…. open your heart…. connect with the person
buried underneath…”
She doesn’t sound like my typical vandal rat; I give her that
much credit. I rub my chest where a knot has formed and lean in
closer to catch the gist of her words.
The girl reaches into a tan leather pouch and hands around
oversized pieces of paper and chunks of black chalk, not the toilet
paper and spray paint I expect to see. Art supplies. My knees give
out as the truth dawns on me. They’ve come to rub the stones.
They’ve come to remember the dead, not hurt ‘em.
The breath I didn’t know I’d been holding bursts from my
mouth. My eyes cloud over. My calloused hands ball into sweaty
fists and shake. My cheeks burn with shame. I’ve been wrong about
these kids, pegged them as vandals when they are bent on doing
something good. I fall apart, but gather it all up again quick. I am
wrong and have to atone. Good thing I’m already down on my
knees.
It’s been so long since I‘ve said any kind of prayer. Too long. I’m
clumsy about how best to place my hands, how far to bow my head,
and how to muster the words. But I close my eyes, and feel warm
tears roll down my cheeks. I send a prayer up to the God I’ve been
cursing for the past decade.
“Let them have a journey, Lord, a journey that begins with
remembering the dead and rubbing a stone. Amen.”

Buy Links:




About Jennifer Hotes:


Raised across the river from the Hanford Nuclear Reactor, Jennifer grew up looking at the world a little differently. Now she uses her unique perspective and glow-in-the-dark countenance to write YA novels and illustrate for talented authors, preferably with a cat on her lap or dog at her feet.
She blogs to teens because she feels the world-at-large gives them a bad shake. Her latest blog is all about finals week and how best to cope/endure.
Mrs. Hotes loves living in rainy Seattle, volunteering in her children's schools and raising funds for Providence Hospice of Seattle. Her first novel, Four Rubbings is out now.
She is a member of SCBWI, society of children's book writers & illustrators and is currently painting a group of aging men posed in an old red truck for a book cover.





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