***Cover Reveal*** Unseen by Lauren Stewart

Unseen, The Heights, Vol. 1

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Title: Unseen

Author: Lauren Stewart

Series info: The Heights, Volume 1

Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Off the Hook Publishing

Date of Publication: May 29, 2014

ISBN: 978-0-9881701-9-3

Number of pages: ~386

Word Count: ~100,000

Cover Artist: Amanda of Pixel Mischief Design

 

Purchase Links: don’t have them yet; however, you can use my Amazon author page if you’d like: http://www.amazon.com/author/laurenstewart

I’d also love people to add Unseen to their Goodreads TBR lists: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18590199-unseen

 

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Book Blurb:

An invisible wall built from the tears of those touched by death

An impossible love as divided as the world around them.

 

After Addison finds a nearly-dusted vampire in the garbage outside her building, her ability to stay off the supernatural world’s radar is deader than the vamp. Almost as dead as she’ll be if anyone thinks she put him there. Should she finish the job somebody else screwed up or move him somewhere humans won’t find him? To keep the Heights hidden, she may have shoved a stake into her own chest. Just when she thinks life couldn’t possibly get any more dangerous, she finds out who he is.

As vampire king and Prime to all races of supernatural beings in the North American zone, Rhyse is accustomed to getting what he wants without asking. But he neither wanted nor asked to be wounded in an ambush, waking up chained to a bed with a hole in his chest. Unfortunately, he needs help to discover who tried to kill him. But worse than that, his only ally is his captor, someone unaware she has the power to destroy their entire world.

As a prophesized war brews in the Heights, Addison and Rhyse must decide which carries more risk—trusting someone who could destroy you or trusting someone who could love you?

 

Excerpt:

 Addison stumbled backwards, until the counter stopped her. It was over. It had been over ever since those chains came off. Ever since she brought him into her apartment. Into her life.

“I saved you, Rhyse. I could’ve left you outside until the sun came up.”

“I imagine you wish you had.”

“Can you…can you not kill me? Just take some, but not all?”

Rhyse brushed her hair behind her shoulder and curled his fingers around the nape of her neck, whispering, “Do you trust me that much?”

“I don’t even trust you a little.” She felt the sting of tears. “I don’t want to be turned. If you drain me, let me die.”

He ran his other hand up her shoulder, to her throat and slowly closed his fingers around it. One move and her neck would break. “To drain you I would have to drink from you. And that, my pet, I will not do.”

She didn’t know what he meant but now seemed like a bad time to argue.

“Did you know what you are? How many of you exist?”

She didn’t answer. Partially because speaking required the air he was cutting off. Then his hands were gone, just like the rest of him.

Was it over?

When one of the women behind the counter moaned, Addison went to make sure they were alright.

Rhyse was on top of one of them, his fangs obviously burrowed in her neck. The woman moaned again, her legs wrapping around him. One hand clutched his shoulder and the other slapped the wall, searching for a hold.

It had to have been shock that made it impossible to look away. Or run away. The woman’s moans got louder, then crested, and her body went limp. Not in a dead way, but in an I-just-had-the-best-orgasm-of-my-life way.

Get out of here.

“Leave and they will die.” His voice stopped her after only two steps. “Stay and they will wake up from a very pleasant, very erotic dream.”

She grinded her teeth when she heard another moan. He must have moved on to the other woman. With two to feed from, there was less of a chance he would drain them, but… “Why should I trust you?”

The woman’s moans stopped and she whined, “No.”

“I do not care if you trust me,” he said. “Only that you obey me.”

“Fuck you.” But she didn’t move. “Are they alive?”

“Of course. It is against the law to kill humans.”

“Then let me go.”

“You are not human, Addison.” His voice came from just over her shoulder.

“I am. I promise. Totally human.” Somehow he’d missed the fact that seers were human, despite her telling him at least five times.

She heard the shuffling of fabric and looked down to see him wrapping his already-bloody shirt around the arm she’d cut. He tied a knot with the sleeves and pulled it tight. There was no part of this that she understood.

She sucked in a breath when he put his hands on her hipbones. Then another as they slid to her belly and down, pressing her back into him. She felt his heat and a vibration on her back as he made a sound similar to a cat’s purr but scarier. Clenching her eyes shut, she waited for death.

“You should thank them.” His voice was all sex. Dangerous, risky, awesome sex. “They just saved your life.”

They did? “Thank you,” she called out with a shaking voice. “Now that your belly’s full, how about you back off a little?”

“I should kill you, Addison.”

“I’m going to have to disagree with you about that.”

After a moment he stepped away, sighing as if he just made a really tough decision and wasn’t sure it was the right one.

“So,” she said, heading for the door, “it seems like you’re feeling better which is great. I’m really happy for you. Since you don’t need me anymore, I’m gonna go now. I’ll see you around.”

“Come to me, Addison.” His eyes were back to their original inhumanly beautiful color. Though he didn’t quite look calm, he looked satisfied.

“No.”

“Come to me or I will snap your neck.”

“Okay.”

“If you had simply brought a human to me, this all could have been avoided.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” Total lie—she wasn’t thinking a goddamn thing besides, “Shiiiiit!”

“You and I have things to discuss, and a few memories to alter along the way back to your home.”

Damn it on many counts. “Alter or wipe?”

“Alter, of course. Although my strength has returned, wiping that many minds would still be highly taxing. I prefer to save my power for other activities.”

Like…? Nah, she didn’t want to know.

He opened the door and gestured for her to go first. Which he’d probably never done before. Minions opened doors for him and she doubted chivalry ranked high on his list of valuable traits. But she went because when you gotta go, you gotta go.

“Did you know?” he asked.

What was it with that question? “Know what? That your victims come while you feed? Yeah, I heard it happens occasionally.”

“Always. They always come while I feed. If it were possible, I would show you.”

“I just heard more proof than I wanted to, thanks.”

“I have no doubt that it would be far more enjoyable to feel you come than to hear her do it.”

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Author Bio:

Lauren Stewart lives in Northern California with two of the most amazing children that the world has ever seen. She reads almost every genre so, naturally, her writing reflects that. With every book, every story, you’ll find elements of other genres–fantasy, mystery, romance, paranormal, suspense, YA, women’s literature, all with a touch of humor because what doesn’t kill us should make us laugh.

Author web links:

            www.ReadLaurenS.com

            @ReadLaurenS

            www.facebook.com/LaurenStewartAuthor

            www.goodreads.com/LaurenStewart

            ReadLaurens@gmail.com

 

 

 

Why all authors living in Britain should attend the London Author Fair.

I’ve always felt very envious of my American counterparts.

Why? I hear you ask…

It’s all down to the fact that I feel that they have more resources than us authors here in Great Britain. We typically have a tiny room crammed full of authors and ‘wannabe’ authors at The London Book Fair. Thats it!

If you take the time to google ‘Author events 2014’ and see how lucky the Americans really are! I’m green with envy when I see the NOLA author event and cutely named conferences for authors. I pout and get stroppy when I see what amazing times my FB friends have had at these events. Not only that, but they get to meet each other too. I for one am looking forward to meeting the authors I’ve made friends with on-line.

Being an author can be a lonely world. I only know one other writer ‘in real life’ and she has yet to publish anything. I can tell you that I’m practically chomping at the bit to be surrounded by like-minded and creative people. 

Author events and book fairs in simple terms give writers the unmissable opportunity to network, promote and gain information. Thats the bottom line.

The London Author Fair is hosting literary agents, successful authors, marketeers, Amazon, Create space, Kobo, Nook, Blurb…the list goes on. It’s definitely the place to be.

A few people have turned their noses up at the original ticket price of £150. Admittedly, I was in a bit of a panic of how I’d be able to afford the hefty fee. On the other hand I realised that I wanted to be surrounded by genuine writers and not those just popping in ‘for a laugh’. Also, the event is being held in a prestigious central London private members club, they’re hardly able to charge a small amount for that. They have realised that perhaps, £150 is a little out of some authors reach and dropped the ticket price to £95 and refunded the difference back to those who had already purchased a ticket at the original price. I think this clearly displays that the organisers of this event (Authoright) really want the event to work out. If that means lowering the ticket price to get people to attend then so be it.

I’m also determined for this event to work. I have waited for a long time for an event like this to be available to the authors of the United Kingdom. 

At this moment I’m working on the second book of ‘The Falling Series’, so I’m not in a position to pitch to agents or publishers. I will have written my next planned novel by next year, so this year is a trial run. Please make this event work so they do one next year! The only thing I want to gain from attending LAF 2014 is new friends.

I really hope to see you there! Let me know if you’re coming. The countdown starts now, and I’m very excited.

More event info and tickets:

http://www.londonauthorfair.com

https://www.facebook.com/LondonAuthorFair

The great review race!

I am running a month long giveaway. I really wanted some more reviews. Everyone knows that reviews are the lifeblood of an author and I’ve been extremely lucky to have had some awesome reviews already. Theres no beating that warm fuzzy feeling you get when you read one.

I am genuinely touched that people seem to love it. Even if they hate it…it made them feel something, right? 😉

The reason that I have set up this Rafflecopter giveaway the way that I have is to thank the people who have bought and reviewed my book already. I’m grateful for every reader that I’ve already captured, and this is just my way of saying thanks. I don’t want to be one of those authors that only rewards new readers…where would you be without ALL of your readers? Every reader deserves the same amount of attention, past or present.

I’m rewarding buyers past or present with 10 entries. I’m also giving 5 entries to anyone who has already reviewed and giving them the opportunity to spread their review across the platforms available for 5 entries per review. All of these opportunities are available to new readers too!

My book will never be FREE on any platform. I simply believe that it’s far to easy to ‘one-click’ a free book. You’re not investing any time into finding out whether that book is for you by reading the reviews or even reading the blurb. I believe that could result in not so great reviews based on the fact that the reader doesn’t like that kind of book rather than the book is ‘bad’. 

Therefore anyone that wants a FREE copy will have to e-mail me for a copy. I’m even throwing in an entry for requesting it! 

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Blurb

When Teagan Lewis moves from rural Montana to the bright lights of London with her maker Thomas, she expects to live as harmoniously as she has for the last one hundred-fifty years.

Teagan didn’t know she had a heart or soul until she met Marc Romano.

However, it quickly becomes clear that Marc is forbidden fruit. All the signs that he isn’t human were there from the beginning, but she chose to ignore them…to her peril.

Can she simply walk away from this mesmirising stranger? Or should she risk her immortality to be with the man she has fallen in love with?

Prizes

5 x signed paperbacks – ‘Falling to Pieces’.

6 x $5 Amazon Giftcards (or currency equivalent).

Thats 11 prizes worth a total of almost $80.

Some great reviews

‘This is L.T.Kelly’s Debut Novel and I have to say I’m very impressed, very impressed indeed.

It’s a well written book with a storyline I adored and one I read in one sitting.’

– Passionate About Books. 

‘Just Wow! It is full of sensuality, Sexuality, mystery, and left you sitting at the edge of your seat. I just could not read this book fast enough. I have not read a paranormal romance that good in God knows how long. The chemistry between Marc and Teagan was off the wall.’

– Fictions Our Addiction.

‘They both have this pull and there chemistry is HOT.  Crazy sex with one another and I am completely smitten with Marc.  He is very Alpha but in a controlled manner.  He has a duty to his family and is very torn with his feelings for Teagan.  Did I mention that they have HOT sex?’

-M’s Sinful Reviews. 

‘This book to me should be an over all 60 stars, but the most we can rate a book is 10.  Please go her fan site, blog site and twitter . Contact her find out how you can purchase this book ASAP!!!! Trust me You DON’T. Want. TO. Miss. This. Book.’

-Mousiey Book Reviews 

The main thing I enjoyed about this book was that it wasn’t like every other book that features vampires and werewolves. Instead of a young naive woman falling for the new guy who turns out to be a vampire, the main female character is strong and fights for what she wants, for who she wants. The main male character, Marc is another hot book boyfriend, who you will instantly want to read more about after his introduction into the story. This book has a great storyline with likeable characters and well detailed descriptions, L.T Kelly has done an awesome job and I’m looking forward to reading more of her work.

-AKA The Book Harlot Reviews.

 

 All thats left for you to do is decide if this is a book that you’d like to read? If you’d like to read ‘Falling to Pieces’ get yourself over to my page and follow the directions to get your FREE copy! Or earn yourself 10 entries by purchasing it. I’m all about choice ;). You can also use the contact section of this page.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/LT-Kelly/599426130072039?id=599426130072039&sk=app_228910107186452

 

 

How negativity can have positive outcomes.

I feel like I can see you, sitting there having read the title of this post and thinking ‘Huh?’

It’s not always a good thing, but I have spent my entire life taking things the wrong way. I take everything personally, or I usually do would be a better way to describe myself. In turn I take every slight on me as a challenge. 

I’m marking today as the day that I’m starting a degree. This is something I’d never have expected that I’d do. These past few years have been full of my own personal set of things I’d never thought I’d do, I have to say I’m very proud of myself.

How has negativity helped me?

As a child I had low expectations of everyone including myself. This was due to things that I shouldn’t have seen or experienced. I took a negative outlook on the world and the people within it. A childhood friend of mines father told me, aged around twelve or thirteen, without hesitation. “Lucy, you’ll be living in a council flat, pregnant at seventeen.”

It was a disgusting thing to say to a child, but if he hadn’t of said that maybe I would have.

I moved schools several times in the pivotal years of my education. I’d just sat my GCSE’s and I knew I hadn’t got any. My mom suggested that maybe I should join the armed services, based on the fact that I was sure I wouldn’t get into college. I was desperate to leave home at that point. My mother and I are so similar that living together wasn’t always great. We now share probably one of the best, open, and honest relationships I’ve ever seen a mother and a daughter have.

Anyway, I didn’t believe I could get into the RAF, I probably wouldn’t have if my uncle didn’t work in the careers office at the time. Nerves were always an issue for my brain performing to it’s optimum.

In turn I got into college and achieved a healthy set of GCSE’s. *face palm*

I was set to go. College was for losers. I was going to the university of life! That I did!

I say that, but the RAF has a great education programme. You sign up and pay for a course and when you complete it they give you 80% of your money back! Three cheers for Lucy!

I took: Accountancy, Law, English Literature and Language, and probably some that I was too drunk to remember signing up for! I only ever completed the English Literature and Language. Considering I didn’t read half of the literature I was lucky that I passed!

I got a reputation for never finishing anything that I started. 

How did I break the habit?

I had my son in October 2008 (see, I could complete a project!) and found out I was pregnant with a girl early in 2010. I always loved cross stitch, but I was terrible at finishing them.

I was excited about having a daughter so I ordered two huge projects and a smaller one for her nursery. I was showing my husband and a friend huge pieces of fabric and talking animatedly about how great the would look. They looked at each other and laughed, “You’ll never finish them, Lucy!” That was probably the reason I did finish them.

That was when life changed for the better.

Obviously, as you start to continually achieve people start to change their minds. Their expectation of you grows into a healthier attitude. 

Now, it’s my own negativity that drives me forward. I wrote ‘Falling to Pieces’ with a mind full of diatribe. I constantly and consistently told myself I couldn’t write a book. I am always filled with self-doubt.

I said I’d never be doing this:

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Then when it was out there things changed to ‘No-one will like it. I’ll only get five stars from my friends.’ Maybe thats why I cry every time I get a random review.

You may think this is a very bad attitude to have, but this is what drives me. I aim to blow my own mind with every challenge. When that challenge is complete I allow myself a day to feel happy about it and then move onto the next thing that ‘I can’t do.’ For me this is the only way to live.

So, no, there’s absolutely no way on this god given earth I’ll ever complete my BA (hons) in humanities. In fact I won’t even manage to complete the first section of it.

I hope you’re not waiting for ‘Falling Apart’ because it will never be finished. Plus, what I’ve written so far is a pile of crap anyway. 😉 

This is how I roll 😀

 

Cover reveal for ‘Vendetta’ by Autumn Karr and Sienna Lane + GIVEAWAY!

 

 

 

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Check out the lovely cover for ‘Vendetta’. The projected release is December 2013!

Blurb:

I am not a good man.

I have lied and cheated and stolen. I’ve decided between life or death, like it was my due. None of it matters, not anymore. These are not my sins.

I see her raise her hands, the dark metal she’s clutching reflecting the moonlight. Her finger trembles as she cocks the gun pointed at me. Her eyes are cold, determined, but I know.

I know her.

My name is Devon Andre and I confess my sin. I am not a good man because this is the woman I love.

She pulls the trigger.

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Connect with the authors:

Sienna’s Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sienna.lane.39

Sienna’s Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7195737.Sienna_Lane

 

Autumn’s Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/autumn.karrauthor

Autumn’s Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7195738.Autumn_Karr

 Add ‘Vendetta’ to your TBR Shelf and ‘like’ the books Facebook page:

VENDETTA: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18257755-vendetta

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/karrandlane

Enter the awesome giveaway for the chance to win 2x Amazon gift cards and 2x Swag packs!

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/YjRlNmI2YTExYjQ1YjExOWY5ZjY0YTAyMzY0NTRmOjE=/

Entrusted Blog Tour- By Sherry Rummler + Giveaway!

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Title: Entrusted

Author: Sherry Rummler

 

Release date: January 22nd, 2013

Genre:  Contemporary Romance

Tour: Irresistible Reads Book Tours

Book Description:

Anna Bertram was not prepared for this. Not after all she had been through. A mothers love, so deep; wasn’t it her job to protect? Anna had poured her heart and soul into raising Justin. When he unexpectedly dropped out of her life, she was left devastated.
Was it fate?

A chance meeting with a young soldier on a beach in Maine, who had left a pocket-sized book in the sand, a photograph tucked neatly inside. The photograph portrayed two soldiers in Army fatigues, one being the soldier, the other her son Justin. With this clue, Anna is desperate to find the soldier who could possibly lead to her estranged son. Is it too late to reclaim the close relationship they once shared?

Mistakenly Anna believed she was responsible for her sons future. In her zealous search to reunite, she finds the unexpected, love and forgiveness. Journey with Anna, as she learns to let go and surrender to divine destiny. And give thanks for the gift that she was entrusted.

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17125217-entrusted?ac=1

About the Author:

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Sherry Rummler is a graduate of Carroll University in Wisconsin.
She is the proud mother of two fine young men. Blissfully married to her best friend, she resides in Wisconsin with her husband, where one son has left the nest to pursue a college degree and the other is on the cusp of spreading his wings to take flight. She is currently working on her next novel.

Website: http://sherryrummler.tateauthor.com/

Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sherry-Rummler-Author/116624355160391?ref=hl

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Rafflecopter Giveaway: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/8e4ffb67/ 

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Falling to Pieces – Blog Tour wrap-up – Whats next for L.T. Kelly

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The Blog Tour for ‘Falling to Pieces’ has come to an end today.

The giveaway winners have been selected and announced on my FaceBook page.

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all of the bloggers for their participation. I’d also like to thank everyone who’s supported me and helped me get this far. Without all of you I wouldn’t have succeeded. 

It’s been a very difficult few weeks for me, I’ve started ‘Falling Apart’, but I’ve found it very difficult to promote and write at the same time. So, You’ll be glad to know that I’m giving the promotion a rest in order to concentrate on my writing. I know those of you out there that love ‘Falling to Pieces’ will spread the word for me.

I’ve done so very well, and I’m over the moon that so many people love my characters and my writing. I’ve had very few negative comments and didn’t pick up anything less than 3* reviews throughout the tour. I’m also lucky enough to have an average rating of 4.60 on Goodreads! That is totally amazing and I’m over the moon. Amazon.com and co.uk hosts only 5* reviews. I’m a lucky girl!

Of course, not everyone will love ‘Falling to Pieces’. It’s been compared to ‘Twilight’ which was a bit stingy. Not because I don’t love ‘Twilight’, I actually do, but I can’t see the likeness personally. I spoke to a friend about it to get her opinion, she helpfully said “What! Twilight? Are they mad? It’s much more like ‘True Blood'” at which point I went outside and banged my head off the brick wall! I think ‘Falling to Pieces’ is like, well…’Falling to Pieces’. :D.

So whats next…

I’m currently writing Chapter Three of ‘Falling Apart’. I’ll be getting my head down on that one now the tour has finished. If you see me on FaceBook for lengthy periods feel free to shout at me “SHOULDN’T YOU BE WRITING!?” That will jolt me out of my stupor. Hopefully.

Theres a lot going on next week, I’ll be interviewing my favourite author Christopher Buecheler on this very blog. They’ll also be an amazing joint giveaway, so keep your eyes peeled for that.

On the 5th of September I’m doing my first ever book signing! In addition to that my baby boy is starting school! It’s going to be an emotional day.

On the 11th of September I’m appearing on a radio show called ‘Freshly Booked’ hosted by the lovely Tricia Anderson. The show is part of the Writers Online Network, and can be found at Blog Talk Radio. It will be aired at an earlier time because I need my beauty sleep! 1700 CST or 2300 GMT.

In October I start a BA (Hons) in Humanities with a pathway to creative writing. It’s my dream to teach people, so it must be done. This is why I expect ‘Falling Apart’ to take me a little longer to write.

You guys are amazing and I love anyone who supports me in any way shape or form. Thanks from the bottom of my heart <3.

Lucy 

Just getting something off my chest.

On Saturday night I foolishly became embroiled in an argument on Facebook in regard to an argument about the blog post “Why indie authors still suck.”

The person who posted it saying she got his point. She is, of course, entitled to her opinion.

I will admit I could see his underlying point. However, it was doused with sweeping statements, offensiveness, diatribe and negativity. That was my issue and I made that clear.

Unfortunately, the best form of defence is attack, and thats what happened. The people this article was aimed at would have completely shut their eyes and brain off to what the blogger said. This was the point I was trying to make on the Facebook thread.

I made the point that the blog was about as effective as a badly written indie book. The post was as badly written as the aforementioned as well.

Just to clarify. I understand what the blogger was saying. As a bottom line he was saying he is fed up of bad writing. He’s annoyed that people are producing badly composed stories and hitting ‘publish’ and blindly believing that MS’s Word spelling and grammar check is editing.

I totally agree, but, those books soon get found out for what they are. They are revealed for what they are rather quickly by reviews. The purchaser can usually tell by the sample, or they can return the book for a full refund. Who has lost? No-one. Yes, I agree that it brings the name of indie authors down. Having said that, most sensible people will see the work for what it is and pay little attention to it, other than maybe complain about it via social media.

The absolute bottom line of it was that indie authors should be attempting to be as professional as their publishing house counterparts. I agree every author should have an editor and a cover designer at the very least. Thats my personal opinion and I wouldn’t force it down anyones throat. Why? Because, frankly my dear I don’t give a damn. If someone doesn’t want my advice, thats fine. Who am I to give it anyway?

I was accused by someone on that Facebook thread of not understanding what the blogger was saying. As you can see I did understand it. Did I want it sugarcoated? No. I did what was advised in that post. Do I think it was a pathetic, offensive and useless rant. Yes.

However, the person on that thread, who is apparently a traditionally published author told me that I was ‘mentally challenged’. I told her she was being personal and she came back at me ‘Enjoy wearing your helmet and licking windows.’ or words to that effect.

The original poster of the comment then wrote a blog post which basically said that she was shocked by an indie authors attack of the blogger and the way the indie author acted was embarrassing and unprofessional.

I’d just like to say, I think the fact that you support such ineffective diatribe is embarrassing. I also think to call me unprofessional is a low blow considering the abuse I took from your ‘friend’ who I found to be unprofessional. At no point was I personal at all.

I was trying to make a point, so was she. All I was trying to say was…’what was the point of that?’ If the point was to seriously annoy people then the blogger succeeded.

Glad to get that off my chest.

‘Falling to Pieces’ Blog tour stops.

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I’m pleased to announce the dates and details of the ‘Falling to Pieces’ blog tour.
I’d also like to take this oppurtunity to thank each and every blogger for featuring me on their blog.
The tour will be running from the 16th – 31st of August 2013.
16th – Beginnings in Writing – Author interview – http://beginingsinwriting.wordpress.com/
17th – Jake Bonsignore – Guest post – http://jakebonsignore.wordpress.com/
18th – Fiction’s Our Addiction – Review – http://fictionsouraddiction.wordpress.com/
19th – Rose & Beps Blog – Guest post –  http://rosebeps.blogspot.co.uk/
20th – Adventures in Reading – Excerpt – http://adventuresinreading16.blogspot.co.uk/
21st – M’s Sinful Reviews – Review – http://mssinfulreviews.blogspot.co.uk/
22nd – Just One More Romance Novel – Excerpt – http://justonemoreromance.blogspot.com/
23rd – She Reads New Adult – Review – http://www.shereadsnewadult.com
24th – Little Read Riding Hood – Review – http://littlereadridinghood.com/
25th – Tabby’s Tantilizing Reviews – Excerpt – http://tabbystantalizingreviews.blogspot.co.uk/
26th – Mousiey Books – Review – http://mousiey.blogspot.co.uk/?zx=6eadd5933db25ba8
27th – Beginnings in Writing – Excerpt –  http://beginingsinwriting.wordpress.com/
28th – Babu’s Bookshelf – Author Interview – http://babusbookshelf.blogspot.co.uk/
29th – The AKA Book Harlots Review – Review – https://www.facebook.com/AkaTheBookHarlotsReview
31st – My Book Opolis – Review – http://mybookopolis.com
           Babu’s Bookshelf – Review – http://babusbookshelf.blogspot.co.uk/
It would be great if you followed these blogs, then you won’t miss a thing. I am writing different posts and choosing different excerpts for each blog, so no two will be the same. 🙂

Falling to Pieces – Chapter One

In celebration of reaching over 1000 likes on my Facebook page, and ‘Falling to Pieces going live on Amazon, both in paperback and Kindle editions, I’m posting Chapter One. Hope you all like it.

Chapter One 

I fought against sleep, desperately trying to force my eyelids open. The crate I was inside jolted on a hard surface. I caught the words of apologies from the handlers before falling back into unconsciousness for a moment.

The crate was back on the move, disturbing me once again. I wanted to slam my fists on the wood at tell them I’d walk myself, but I kept falling back to sleep before I got the chance.

My bare feet pressed hard against the silk lining as the box tilted at an angle. On the outside it appeared to be an ordinary wooden cargo container, not unlike one you’d see if you shipped a large amount of wine over from foreign shores. The inside was a different story altogether, having been padded and lined with the finest Chinese silk.

The journey had been nothing but a pain in the ass, or arse, as I should say now that we’re in England. I hated with a passion being cooped up.

I recognised the clunk of metal connecting with the wood, gently easing the nails out to reveal my resting place. The highly paid handlers quickly moved to take me out of the box. They gingerly lifted me out before placing me on the bed. My eyes flickered open for a moment with the sensation of being lifted. I wanted to struggle against them and climb into the bed by myself, but the energy needed wasn’t available with the sun still in the sky. I settled into a deep undisturbed sleep as the men left my bedroom.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long for the sun to set. I woke with a start, unsettled by my unfamiliar surroundings.

Flopping back down on the Egyptian cotton sheet, I wrinkled my nose at the memory of voluntarily climbing into the large wooden crate. Everything I needed I’d had with me, but there’s nothing pleasant about being nailed into a crate for any amount of time, regardless of the decor.

I squeezed my eyes shut, grimacing at the recollection of my father’s harsh tone. He’s not exactly my father in the traditional sense, but it’s an appropriate name for him because he made me into what I am today.

“Now, Teagan, you must remember not to fidget,” he chastised me with a stony expression etched on his face.

I’d considered telling him to go fuck himself. I didn’t want to leave America, but the electric pull of his possession forced me to follow wherever he chose to go. That was simply the way things were. The desire to be with my maker was too strong to ignore.

Like a good little fledgling, I’d smiled sweetly at him instead.

“Yes, father. You have told me many times of the importance of not moving around. I do remember the first time. Did I let you down then?”

The first time we’d travelled thousands of miles, the Wright brothers hadn’t even been born, let alone invented the airplane.

I remembered Thomas, my maker and saviour giving me the same instructions in 1853 when we’d boarded the ship named Washington, bound for New York.

Back then, I’d hung on to his every word like a little puppy.

Thomas had stroked my cheek with his cold fingers. His dark blue eyes were bright and glossy, gazing into mine with heart-warming sincerity.

“Listen to me my dear child,” his voice sounded so soft, almost a whisper. I raised my face closer to his.

“You must remember to keep as still as possible. If we are discovered in the crates we’ll be considered stowaways. There will be no way for us to hide from the sun.”

I’d nodded my understanding, completely at his command. I was so new at being a vampire that I shined and sparkled like a new pin to adorn him with a trophy child and a pet project.

Sweetly, he’d waited outside of my crate whilst I’d lowered myself down with my face turned up to his and my eyes wide with fear. Thomas had lowered his smiling lips to my pale cheek after I’d lain down.

“You will be safe now, my love,” he’d said.

I understood why we had to go. It was impossible to stay in Ireland now. My family thought me dead and it was best for everyone that they continued to believe that.

He straightened himself back up and turned to his servants, his expression changing to a business like quality, all gentleness vanishing.

“Seal her crate,” he barked at the highly paid men that were escorting us. The lid was nailed shut.

I slept for the majority of the first few days before one of Thomas’ servants released us. We were well into the trip by then and I’d run out of the supplies that had been placed in the crate with me. It took all the will I had to stop myself from draining the servant dry.

For six weeks, the servants would let us out of the crates to feed on the unsuspecting crew and passengers.

When the ship docked in New York, they were around one hundred passengers lighter. Of course, not every death could be attributed to Thomas and me. Some had been taken by disease or pure misfortune. If it had been nowadays, they wouldn’t have died from our feeding at all. The lack of food and nutrition onboard had made the humans weak, too weak to sustain blood loss.

I slipped off my bed, bringing myself back to reality, and walked into the bathroom, flipping the light on more out of habit than necessity. My vision was perfect in the darkness, after taking a moment to adjust anyway.

I inspected myself in the mirror whilst removing the clothes I’d been wearing for days, discarding them on the floor. I’ve got ginger hair. Ok, maybe not ginger, I’m somewhere in between red and blonde. It irritates the hell outta’ me.

If my hair colour was red or blonde I suspect I’d be a bit happier. I’ve bleached and dyed it before, only to wake up the next night and find the mane is back to normal, stuck in purgatory between the two colours and ramrod straight. I even shaved my head once, the whole damn lot, but I woke to find the tresses had re-grown back down to my waist.

At least my transition couldn’t affect the pallor of my skin. I’ve always been pale with freckles scattered about most of my body. A consequence of being Irish I figured.

As a human, my oval shaped eyes were a dark blue, but since the change they’ve become cyan speckled with flecks of violet, as if my body couldn’t decide what it wanted.

“For goodness sake, Teagan!” Thomas bellowed from the doorway of my bathroom.

I continued my gaze into the mirror.

“What alarms you about clothes?” Thomas asked.

I viewed him out the corner of my eye—he’d turned to face away from my exposed body.

“Well, Thomas, this is my bathroom and my bedroom. Are you afraid of knocking?”

I selected the mascara from the contents of the bag next to the sink. I unscrewed the lid and began applying the gloopy black substance to my eyelashes whilst trying to act as if he’d gone.

“Well, I didn’t want you to become—over hungry.”

I stomped past him, making no attempt to cover up my nakedness, back into my large bedroom.

“Fear not, father. I’m going out now.”

“By yourself?” His voice was high-pitched with incredulity. “You won’t have any idea of where to go. We’re not in Montana now, Teagan. You don’t know London.”

I rolled my eyes in another direction, unwilling to look at him. I pretended to inspect the crimson pattern on the feature wall as I pulled on some jeans, not bothering with underwear, I was too hungry to mess around. I’d selected the décor for my room while we were still in Montana, and I was happy to see the decorators had pulled off my vision to perfection.

“I’m well aware of where we are, thank you very much, father. You know I prefer to feed by myself, without any of your corrections.” I snatched up the green silk shirt, the material slithered over my skin sending the nerve endings to alert. I was a little excited at the thought of tasting new blood, English blood.

“I’m sorry, Teagan. Of course, I forgot, you can’t take constructive criticism. I only endeavour to help you improve yourself,” he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm and his eyes narrowed with severity.

Thomas’ Italian leather shoes spun on the thick red pile carpet as his slim figure, a blur, flashed out the walnut door after swinging the heavy wood back hard on the hinges.

I raised an eyebrow as “dick-head,” escaped my mouth without consideration.

I slumped down on the California king bed. Actually, I had been behaving like a sulky teenager. Thomas had given me everything anyone could ever wish for. He’d saved me from a sad existence. There were some things in my human life that I felt I’d missed out on because I had to leave. It caused me pain to even think about those things, and I never talked about them. But I knew that everything he did and continues to do, he does for me.

The move to London had annoyed me. I had no idea why we’d come here, and I’d never been offered an explanation of any kind.

Our lives in Montana were remote and lonely. It wasn’t as if I had left anything that I loved behind. I should have been grateful for the streams of people and the bright lights of the city.

Huffing at my own behaviour, I slipped my feet into green ballet style shoes. I filled my nostrils with air as I stepped out into the hallway, trying to sniff Thomas out. The house was huge, so it took me a while to trace him to the drawing room.

I hovered by the door while he pretended not to realise I was there. His eyes remained firmly on the book he was clutching with white knuckles. He sat in a salmon coloured winged back chair next to the intricate stone fireplace with pinched lips and a stiff posture.

“Father,” I said quietly, my voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

“What?” he snapped, not bothering to grant me a glance.

“I’m so sorry for my behaviour. You’re right. I’m acting like an adolescent. Can you forgive me? We could start afresh.”

“You know I will,” he said, his eyes meeting mine finally as he softened his expression. “Can you forgive me for bringing you to London?”

“It’s not so bad.” I smiled while waving my hand around the plush room. “Any chance we discuss our new beginning later? I’m so hungry.”

He shook himself, as if he had forgotten that I hadn’t eaten in days.

“Of course, my love. I suggest you go to Hyde Park. It’s a few minutes walk, if you head south you can’t miss it. I shouldn’t think you’d encounter any problems.”

I nodded letting my smile reach my eyes.

I threw the front door open after descending the stairs. The air, still quite warm and doused with pollution, served as another reminder I no longer lived in a countryside location.

Skipping down the front steps I took in the scene on the street. The houses around me glowed thanks to the streetlights lining the pavement. All of the houses resembled the one I lived in, painted a clean, creamy ivory colour. The doors and railings wrapping around them were painted black in stark contrast. They were rowed neatly with bevelled triangular carvings in them, tall, proud and narrow structures.

I couldn’t believe the cleanliness of the streets. I’d always imagined London would be dirty for some reason.

As directed by Thomas, I reached the edge of the park within a few minutes and took a path lined with globular street lamps casting a white pearly light.

Spotting a bank of trees, I walked over to them pressing the length of my body against the bark and laying my cheek against the roughness. I closed my eyes and breathed in the earthy goodness. I’d already been missing the countryside, just in that short walk.

The traffic noises from a nearby road drowned out my thoughts, so I concentrated on blocking them all out. My brain finally cut out the background noise. The lapping water of the river running parallel to the park and the wind rattling the soft leaves and grass soothed me. It made me feel at one with the nature surrounding me despite being in the middle of the city.

My eyes snapped open as I became aware of the vibration of footsteps, too clunky and unrefined to be an animal.

As the human came closer, I could hear their ragged breath and a heartbeat pumping the delicious blood through their veins.

My eyes found him—a stout man, short, fat and bald. His suit was grey and crumpled. His whitecollar hung open, the tie swung with his movements having been loosened off, leaving his fleshy neck exposed.

He started to pass where I stood, and in a blurry flash I snatched his large body and extended my fangs. I forced him against the tree as my newly revealed teeth stabbed into his neck. My mouth filled with sweet, rich, sticky liquid, tinged with the taste of alcohol.

He groaned for a second before the venom provided anaesthetic relief.

I wrapped my arms around his huge waist and shifted his body gently down to the grass so I was kneeling beside him. I pulled my teeth out of his neck whilst placing my hand over his mouth.

The man’s eyes flew wide open for a split second before the make-up of the venom had a chance to convert in his blood stream. When he flinched, that told me the process had completed. The poison from my fangs had wiped his memory of my attack forever. I moved my hand from his mouth to his cheek so fast any human would fail to notice.

“Are you ok, Mister?” I asked him frowning.

“Whoa—what happened?”

“A cyclist knocked you flying and you fell unconscious for a moment or two.”

“A cyclist knocked me over?” he echoed in an uncertain tone, swallowing hard. “I feel a bit dizzy.”

“Well, you’ve had a shock. Here, let me help you up.” I rose with grace from my place beside him and extended my hand. I didn’t want to draw this out for longer than I had to. I was eager to explore the city.

He grasped my hand with no consideration for our weight difference, probably a good thing because I didn’t want him to take notice of my considerable strength.

I began brushing him down trying to stifle a giggle, my actions reminding me of a mother inspecting her child before sending him off to school.

“I’d go home if I were you, see how you are in the morning,” I advised. He nodded, blinking rapidly and glancing around.

“Um, thanks,” he said before sluggishly ambling away.

I walked a few metres to sit down on a wooden bench. I wanted to bask in the warmth of being full and satisfied. My head dropped back and rested on the backrest. My eyes were half open as a smile curled the edges of my lips.

Without warning my whole body jerked, every muscle became tense. I realised instinct had positioned me on the pathway in a crouch, ready to pounce.

I swished back into the tree line where I’d come from, my blue and purple irises alert, ready for what created the magnificent aroma that I was breathing in deeply.

What is that?’ I’d never smelled anything like it before. It was indescribable because it was so many things. Open lilies, baking bread, freshly cut grass, all intertwined to create something wonderful.

I focussed my attention back on the path, honing my vision on the delectable source of the scent.

The aroma came from a man walking purposefully through the park.

How could a human smell so divine? He certainty appeared to be just a human, but then I supposed I did, too. His shoes tapped across the walkway. Though, to me, each gentle footstep seemed to magnify into great big booms. My attention belonged solely to him.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows knitting together creasing his perfect olive skin.

My nails dug into the bark, exposing the flesh of the tree.

He snorted in the scented air just as I had been, like a cocaine addict simply unable to stop filling his nose. He glanced around before he continued his liquid movements down the path past the tree that I clung to for support.

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