Showing posts with label Author's Pal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Author's Pal. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Passion for Writing with Danielle Rose: Interview, Excerpt, and Giveaway!

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Danielle Rose is writer of fiction and travel, as well as the owner of Narrative Ink Editing LLC. Danielle currently resides in the Midwest, where she spends her days at a local coffee shop planning her next vacation or plotting her next novel.

Danielle holds a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing from the University of Southern Maine's Stonecoast program. In addition to her Master of Fine Arts, she also holds a Bachelor of Arts in English and certification in professional writing from the University of Wisconsin-Parkside.

When not writing, traveling, or writing about traveling, Danielle enjoys being outdoors, cheering for her favorite football team (Go Packers!), and spending time with her husband and their furbabies: two dogs and a cat. For more information about Danielle Rose, visit her website: www.Danielle-Rose.com.

Places to find Danielle Rose

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There's no wrath like that of a witch scorned.

Avah Taylor has been given a death sentence: as one of the only spirit users in her coven, Avah has been chosen to wield The Power, the ultimate weapon against the immortal vampire species witches have been at war with for centuries. The Power, given by the gods to one witch of each generation, is considered a great honor, but every witch before has died trying to master this all-too-powerful gift, one that the shell of a mortal can’t contain for long.

On the night of her birth rite, Avah’s coven is attacked, and Avah is left for dead. Confronted with a terrible choice, Avah must decide to either die or save herself by becoming like her enemies. Forced to seek refuge among the very beings she has sworn to kill, Avah vows revenge on those who took her former life from her.

As Avah slowly transitions into a life of blood and war and battles her own feelings for a man she is supposed to hate, she realizes everything she’s been told is a lie.

Purchase your copy of BLOOD ROSE today at Amazon!

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Passion for Writing with Danielle Rose - Interview

Where does your passion for writing come from?
My passion for writing comes from everyday inspiration. I’m awestruck by the simplest things and how they can completely transform my view on the world. This often leads to the creation of a new novel or character.


If your passion for writing was a color, what color would it be and why?
A deep red. I’ve recently read that the color red is associated with fire, blood, energy, war, danger, strength, power, determination, passion, desire, and love. I think those words completely describe my writing, my style, and my love for my work. I am deeply in love with my craft, and it’s terrifying. It’s an ugly kind of love—the kind where mascara-coated tears are streaming down your face and you just don’t care because you’re THAT into it.


How do you keep the passion burning in your relationship with storytelling?
To keep myself motivated, I do so many things: I keep supportive people around me all the time; I use the bribe system and treat myself when I hit my goals; I stay informed by reading craft books and attending writing/signing conventions; and I stay active on social media and interact with everyone. To me, maintaining the passion has never been the hard part.

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Enter the BLOOD ROSE Giveaway for a chance to win a signed copy (1) or one of five eBook copies!




If the HTML for the giveaway does not work above, please use this direct link to the giveaway.

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BLOOD ROSE Excerpt


I closed my eyes and focused on my mother, on her essence. I fought to ignore the overwhelming sensation to reach for Jasik, who lay nude beside me, with only a thin sheet separating him from me. I shivered at the thought of having him touch me again.

I exhaled deeply, focusing.

Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.

My breathing became heavier. Slowly, it became nonexistent. I let go of the human tendencies, the instinctual habits, as my astral self left its binding shell. Soon, I was hovering over my old house, terrified to enter.

Instead, I opted for the front door. We needed their help, and I couldn’t afford to burn bridges.

I floated to the ground, looking around at the outside world. I could see nothing beyond the fog. My legs were heavy as I walked to the door. Slowly, I balled my fist and knocked. I could only lift my arm three times before the weight of my limb overcame me, and it fell limp to my side.

I knew my mother was rejecting me. That was the only reason staying felt physically draining to an astral being. She didn’t want to answer my call, but I couldn’t afford to leave without her help.

“I know you can hear me. I know you know I’m here. Please, Mom. We need you. I need you.” My words were barely above a whisper. It hurt to speak.

My breathing slowed, my body weak. I knew I couldn’t hold on much longer without her.

“I won’t leave. Not without speaking to you,” I said.

The door creaked open. The silhouette of a person stood in the distance. Her back was to me. She was fiddling with a vase of white roses on the table. Even though I didn’t recognize her, couldn’t see her face, I knew it was my mother.

I took a step forward, attempting to enter the house, but I was stopped. With my hand before me, I touched the clear barrier that prevented me from entering my coven’s home. I tried to push against it, silently begging for entrance. It did not give way.

“Why can’t I enter?”

“Your kind is not welcome here,” she said. She didn’t turn toward me. She didn’t look up when she spoke. She simply arranged the flowers. As she moved each rose, petals fell from the buds, drying and turning to dust as they hit the floor.

I tried to push my way into the house. I clenched my fist, brought my arm back, and banged on the barrier. I knocked again, over and over. It took what little strength I had left to not fall, to not return to my shell.

Her head jerked up, and the vase of dead roses fell from her hands, crashing to the ground and shattering into pieces. I blinked, and she disappeared. I blinked again, and she reappeared before me.

“Stop!” she yelled. “Do you really think the power of one vampire can withstand the power of an entire coven? You cannot break our barriers. Now you must leave here!”

“We need your help. Rogues, they’re coming. They’re coming for me.”

“Avah, you know we can’t help you anymore. You need to figure this out on your own. Now please leave.” She paused briefly before adding, “And don’t come back.”

A single tear slid down her cheek, but she turned away. When she faced me again, the tear was gone—replaced by the cold, hard stare with which she had welcomed me.

“I won’t leave. Not until I can speak to the elders. I need to learn about The Power. I think it can help us.”

She laughed. It was abrupt, mean. She stopped herself quickly. “You can’t possibly believe that The Power is still within you. You died, Avah. The Power moves on to the next chosen one. You know the prophecy.”

“No, it doesn’t. I’ve used it. It’s still within me.” I tried to reassure her, but I was losing focus. If she didn’t accept my astral self soon, I’d lose my connection to her.

“That’s not possible…” she said, confused. She turned away from me, lost in her own thoughts.

“I’m still the same. Becoming a vampire didn’t damn my soul. There’s so much we didn’t know—”

“Avah, stop! I can’t help you. Not anymore. You must leave here.”

“Not until I speak with the elders. They must know something. Rogues are coming, Mom. Whether you like it or not.” I was angry, and I was sure it showed. I wouldn’t budge. I’d die before I’d leave without information. I was stubborn, but I was my mother’s daughter.

She sighed, and the barrier lifted. With her acceptance, I was rejuvenated. I felt life flow through me just as it had when I first left to meet her. I stood tall, strong. I inhaled deeply. The feeling of power within me washed over my insecurities, my fears. I smiled and stepped inside.

“You can’t come back here, Avah. They won’t let me help you. Things… things have changed since you’ve left. There are new people in power, and they won’t let me help you.” She ran her hand through my hair, tucking loose strands behind my ear.

“I don’t understand. Are you not the high priestess anymore?”

“They may be listening. You must go!” Tears pooled in her eyes and threatened to spill.

“But we need help!”

“There’s nothing I can do to help you anymore. You must look within yourself.” She placed her hand over my heart and closed her eyes.

Listen, Avah. Listen to your heart. Find the strength within.

“It’s time to go back now. You’ve stayed too long.”

I knew she was right. My astral self had been away from its shell far too long. I never knew what would happen if I stayed in The Beyond longer than necessary, and I didn’t want to find out. I feared so much: The Power, Rogues, The Beyond… There was so much I didn’t know or understand.

“But I still haven’t any answers. I don’t know how to use The Power.”

She began pulling away. The world hazed over again, and through the smoke, I couldn’t see her silhouette any longer.

“No! Not yet! I need to speak with the elders!”

I was hovering over my body. I watched as Jasik lay beside me, whispering into my ear. He told me to be strong, to find my way back to him. Briefly, I wondered how long I had been gone. It seemed like only mere seconds had passed.

My eyes fluttered open as I reentered my body. Jasik leaned over me, running his fingers across my cheek. He smiled at me.

I smiled back and wondered how I’d break the news: the witches weren’t coming.


Purchase your copy of BLOOD ROSE today at Amazon!

Monday, July 13, 2015

Book Touring with Call on Me's Roni Loren - Giveaway, Excerpt, and More!



About Roni Loren



Roni [Site | Fb | Tw | Goodreads] wrote her first romance novel at age fifteen when she discovered writing about boys was way easier than actually talking to them. Since then, her flirting skills haven’t improved, but she likes to think her storytelling ability has. Though she’ll forever be a New Orleans girl at heart, she now lives in Dallas with her husband and son.

If she’s not working on her latest sexy story, you can find her reading, watching reality television, or indulging in her unhealthy addiction to rockstars, er, rock concerts. Yeah, that's it. She is the National Bestselling Author of The Loving on the Edge series from Berkley Heat.




About Call on Me



Oakley Easton wants two things: to be a good mom to her daughter and to ditch her less than ideal night job. Hooking up with bad boy drummer Pike Ryland? Not on the agenda. She needs a promotion. Not sex, tattoos and rock ’n’ roll.

Pike isn’t about to let Ms. Prim and Proper shut him down so easily, especially when he stumbles upon Oakley’s sexy night job. She’s only playing a role on those late night calls with strangers, but when he gets her on the line, all bets are off. He won’t stop until that sultry voice is calling his name for real.

But as they move from anonymous fantasies in the dark to the flesh-on-hot-flesh reality of the bedroom, the risk of falling in love becomes all too high. And the safe, quiet world that Oakley’s worked so hard to create is about to be exposed to the one person who could ruin it all.




Purchase Call on Me at the following outlets: Amazon | Kindle | B&N | iTunes | Google Play | Kobo



The Giveaway!


Enter the giveaway for a chance to win a Custom 4-Pack of Brownies from Wicked Cupcakes (US ONLY); a $25 Gift Card will be sent if winner resides outside of US.


a Rafflecopter giveaway


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Top 5 On the Spot Interview with Roni


As a writer, what are your top 5 must-haves when you sit down to write?

I wish I could say inspiration because it would be lovely to have that every day when I sit down. But the muse is a finicky sucker, and I have to write even when he decides to sleep in. But these are some of the things that are my must haves for my writing day.
  1. Caffeine – In the morning, this means coffee. The rest of the day iced tea. I’m not breaking any writer stereotypes with that one I’m afraid. Although, I am a new coffee drinker. I hated it every time I tried it until a few months ago. Then all of a sudden it was like—oh, NOW I get it. Does this mean I’m getting old? ;-)
  2. Music – I have trouble writing in silence, so Spotify is always on. If I’m in the writing zone, I listen to my faves playlist, which has everything from rock to country to pop and 80s. But other times, I’m easily distracted by music with words or music that’s too “loud.” Those days I pick from the bazillions of playlists that Spotify has. I really like Indie Chill Covers and Instrumental Covers lists because they’re songs I know but they are mellower, or in the case of the instrumentals, have no words to sing along to.
  3. Baby Name book – I keep one on my desk because I’m always reaching for it to name side characters. I know there are websites for this, but I find a paperback way easier in this case.
  4. Good notebooks and pens – I’m not one of those writers who writes in longhand. I’m not patient enough for that. But I do keep a notebook right next to me to make notes or jot down ideas. The Greenroom notebooks are my fave because they’re recycled and have that ivory colored paper which is easier on my eyes. You can get them at Target. And I am super picky about the pens I use. I like writing in pretty colors and am partial to Pentel EnerGel and Papermate InkJoy.
  5. Paperbacks of all of my books – My memory is not so hot, and I’ve made the egregious mistake of not creating a series bible early on. So I often have to flip through my previous books to refresh my memory on something so that I don’t mess it up in whatever book I’m writing. Like, oh crap, that girl has a brother not a sister. Or wait, what color are this guy’s eyes?

A Taste of Call on Me: Excerpt



“Don’t tease me, mama. Tell me. In vivid detail preferably.”

She pressed her lips together, humor in her eyes, and looked toward the road. “You sound like one of my callers.”

“You’re dodging my question.”

She nodded. “A fair assessment.”

“How come?”

She glanced down, a self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. “It’s silly, right? I talk sex for a living but when it comes to talking to you about it, I lock up like some awkward virgin. I had to fight it the first few times we talked on the phone. Now, in person, it’s coming back.”

He appreciated the honesty. “I get it. Everything’s easier when it’s a role. You talk sex as Sasha. But it’s just you here tonight. Same for me. It’s easier for me when I’m the drummer from Darkfall. But the only person you’ve got in this car with you is James Pike Ryland. So don’t feel awkward. We’re on even ground.”

She looked over at him. “Your name is James?”

“It was my father’s name. But my dad walked out when I was five and I started going by Pike since my mom said she couldn’t stand to hear his name in the house. I legally changed it when I joined the band to separate myself from my history, but for some reason, James still feels like my real name. It’s what my brother called me.”

She considered him. “So if I was in here with Pike Ryland, rockstar, how would it be different?”

He laughed. “We are not going to discuss that. You would hate him.”

She turned her body toward him, devious smile beaming. “Oh, no. We have to go there now. I think I got a glimpse of him the first time we met.”

He rubbed the back of his head. How had he gotten trapped in this corner? “Fuck, all right. I do what’s easy. I tell women what they want to hear. Most girls just want to know how hot they are, how great they look in whatever they’re wearing. It’s much more about them and the conquest of landing the band member than it is about me. I figured that out early on. Then it usually ends up with talk of who I know, where I’ve been, all that shit that makes me sound like a big deal.”

Oakley bit her lip like she was trying hard not to laugh.

“What?” he asked, grinning. “That shit totally works.”

“Oh, I have no doubt. I’m sure ten minutes of that and there’s no more talking because the girl’s head is bobbing in your lap. Frankly, I don’t know why you even bother talking. I mean, looking at you is enough. You probably could just unbutton your fly and point.”

His mouth kicked up at the corner. “Yeah? Would that have worked on you?”

“That would’ve gotten you a knee to the balls. And a thank you for showing me where to aim.”

He laughed.

She turned, peering out at the passing mileage signs. “Looking at you is no hardship. You know that. But talking to James Pike Ryland is what got me here. The other guy would’ve never had a chance.”

The gently spoken admission thumped him right in the chest. He focused on the road, trying not to show on his face how the words had affected him. “Thank you, Oakley.”

Purchase your copy of Call on Me today!



Friday, June 12, 2015

Book Blitz Tour & Giveaway: Blame it on the Kiss by Robin Bielman


THE AUTHOR


USA Today Bestselling Author Robin Bielman lives in Southern California with her high school sweetheart husband, two sons, and one crazy-cute dog who loves to chew on everyone’s socks. When not attached to her laptop, she can almost always be found with her nose in a book. She also likes to run, hike, eat cupcakes, and dip her toes in the ocean. Writing is a dream come true, and she still pinches herself to be sure it’s real.

She loves to connect with readers. Learn more and sign up for her newsletter on her website at http://robinbielman.com, and check her out on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads!



THE BOOK


The one guy she shouldn’t want…

Honor Mitchell has lived with guilt and regret for a long time, so when she promises to do the things on her dying best friend’s wish list, she’s determined to follow through and do something right for a change. But when she’s thrown together for wedding duties with the one man who complicates her vow–just by looking at him–she has to put her faith in Bryce Bishop’s pledge to help her, no strings attached.

Bryce’s near one-night stand with his ex-girlfriend’s best friend a few months ago might have been a mistake, but helping the beautiful, free-spirited Honor with her promise isn’t. His trust in women is shot, but he can’t help but play his best man card to his advantage and help Honor tick off the items on his ex’s list, even if it puts him in a no-win situation. Because his assistance might get Honor what she wants, but suddenly being the do-good guy puts his plans–and heart–in serious jeopardy.


Purchase BLAME IT ON THE KISS at the following online outlets: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iTunes


THE GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway


THE EXCERPT

Bryce stared at her. Most girls would’ve had a fit if the sprinklers had soaked them. Not only had Honor laughed it off, she looked amazing and none the worse for wear as the pink light of the toy ring glowed at her waist.

“Do not tell me you have x-ray vision and can see the color of my undergarments, because then I’d have to use this magic ring to one, make you color blind, and two, make your clothes disintegrate so everyone could see if you’re a boxer or briefs man.”

His grin came quick and easy. “You want to see what I have on underneath my jeans, all you have to do is ask.”

“No thanks.” She stopped in front of him.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“You don’t look positive.”

“How do I look?”

He took a slow inspection down her body and back up. “You really want me to answer that?”

“Boy, you had me fooled there for a minute Captain Underpants, but I see you’re just like every other guy, which is a huge relief, I can’t even tell you.” She brushed by him and headed toward the front door.

“What does that mean?” He fell in step beside her. Something didn’t feel right inside him. He didn’t like being lumped in with all guys.

“Here,” she slipped the ring off her finger and dropped it into their bag. “Be a good partner and turn our stuff in so I can raid Sophie’s closest for something to change in to.”

“Grab me one of Zane’s shirts, would you?”

She paused at the porch to slip off her shoes and slowly rake her eyes down and up his body. Touché. “Really? Zane’s got all sorts of muscle going on and I’m not sure—”

He whipped off his shirt. Honor was messing with him, but he wanted to remind her Zane didn’t have anything on him. He took care of his body, often working out with the guys he represented. He put forth the best image possible for his agency and that included being in good physical shape.

The appreciative look in her eyes told him she liked what she saw. She’d had her hands all over his chest in their hotel room, and if he closed his eyes he knew he’d remember exactly how hot her touch had made him.

“Can I ask you something?” he ventured.

“Okay,” she said to his chest.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” He motioned his hand in the direction of his face.
Her cheeks reddened. “Sorry, yes?”

“Have you had your one night stand?” He fisted his hands. It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But for some reason, he wanted to know. She might not be wired for it, but according to Payton, the two of them were like sisters, and if Honor promised to do the things on Payton’s list, he imagined she would keep that vow.

She gulped and again he could see her mind at work in the way she blinked and her head tilted a fraction to the side. “No.” A crease drew her brows together. “But I might be able to remedy that these next few days. A couple of Zane’s friends seem like they’d be willing to help me out.”

No doubt. “People hook up at weddings all the time, don’t they?”

“That’s what I hear.”


Purchase BLAME IT ON THE KISS at the following online outlets: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iTunes