Sunday, 15 September 2013

Bandit Book Bloggers:




                                         
I am taking part in the Space Games blog tour. Here's what it's about.


The cameras are on and the gloves are off in this battle of the sexes in space.

Say hello to Robin and Joe—contestants in 2034’s “Space Games,” a high-stakes reality TV show from Hollywood producer Sheldon J. Zimmer set aboard next-generation space station, ISS 2. The winner takes home a multimillion-dollar jackpot and a chance at stardom, while the loser faces the ultimate in public humiliation. Only former NASA astronaut Vince, acting as the station’s commander and the games’ sole referee, can separate sexy spitfire and martial artist, Robin Miller, from her brutal opponent, “Big Joe” O’Donnell, as the pair compete inside the cramped zero-g environs. Watched by millions of people back on Earth, the reality show rapidly degenerates into a deadly spectacle.

Space Games is a compelling story and a biting satire about reality television: those who make and participate in it – and those who watch it.


Space Games is published by Kristell Ink.

The author Dean Lombardo:





Dean Lombardo works as a writer in the information technology industry, turning what is often techno-babble into messaging that can be understood by a general business audience. At age 11, he was psychologically scarred by the movie “Alien” and has been watching, reading and writing frightening science fiction and horror ever since. “Space Games” will be Dean’s second published novel. Dean lives in northern Virginia with his family and the world’s most beautiful yellow Labrador Retriever, Trixie.

Website

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Goodreads


Reviews for Space Games:


REVIEW BY BRIAN BANDELL

New York Journal of Books

www.nyjournalofbooks.com

Like any good reality show, Space Games leaves us wondering what the contestants would do next and how they could possibly top the last bone-breaking outburst of brutality. The ending goes to a pretty dark place—the worst nightmare for any TV producer, except Zimmer. Reading Space Games is kind of like watching a cage fight. Yeah, it’s violent. Yeah, someone could wind up unconscious or in the hospital. But what a rush!


***

REVIEW BY CRASH FROELICH,

Author of “Never,” Artema Press

Pick up "Space Games" and you will become addicted. "Space Games" is the title of a one-on-one competition, a reality television program set within the confines of a space station in Earth orbit. In it, a man and woman battle for a multi-million dollar prize in a best-of-seven tournament. A series of no-holds-barred matches that not only test the limits of physical prowess, but also the sportsmanship, even the very humanity, of the contestants. An amoral sociopath, twisted by her violent past, versus a misogynist with nothing but contempt for her gender. The chemistry is potent and the bad blood of the combatants is exacerbated, encouraged by the greed of the show's producer and the impotence of his staff. The effect on the viewing audience is only second to the horror that results from the collapse of civilized barriers in the minds and deeds of the players. You won't be able to look away. You'll never be able to think of reality television in the same way.


***


REVIEW BY MARY FAN,

Author of ‘Artificial Absolutes’, Red Adept Publishing.

www.maryfan.com

A sleekly modern rendition of pulp sci-fi, Space Games is fast-paced, straightforward read that leaves you wanting to know what happens next. This book is easy to fly through, full of excitement and action. The realistic dialogue, tight writing, and quick action all make for great entertainment. The characters and action in Space Games, which is written almost cinematically, pop from the page. It’s easy to "see" what’s going on and "hear" the characters' distinctive voices. The pacing is spot-on, creating an exciting reading experience that snowballs into a tense pageturner as an ill-conceived reality show goes to hell. Space Games isn't for the faint of heart, and Lombardo, who is also known as a horror writer, isn’t afraid to take risks. I think that's one of the book's strengths: it fiercely barrels through the events in a merciless, unapologetic fashion.

***

REVIEW BY JAMES LISTON, KANSAS

I've often wondered what reality TV would be like in the future. Will everyone eventually get bored of it and quit watching when they run out of ideas? According to this story, that won't happen. Space Games is a reality show to beat all reality shows. Set in the year 2034 aboard a space station, two contestants choose from a list of events to compete in. It's the battle-of-the-sexes with very few rules. Joe and Robin fight their way to a multimillion-dollar prize while being watched by millions of viewers on Earth.

I thought this was a great concept for a story and was pleased that it was entertaining, and well written. The characters are well developed and the author goes to great lengths to make it seem real, and allows your imagination to fill in the blanks. Like when Robin sneaks into Joe's bathroom and closes the door so the cameras can't see what she does. Great fun! I highly recommend it!
 
Buy Links:
 
 
 
 
 


 


Wednesday, 4 September 2013

CUSTODIANS OF MAGIC
 
 

 
Cold air misted above the surface of the water. Translucent shapes clinging to the black pool. Frost hardened grass crunched under the boots of the traveller as he approached the glass-calm lake. White wraiths stirred and hovered over the dark waiting for him. Calling to him, beckoning him, needing him. He could taste the cold on his tongue, feel the ice in his blood. He turned away then, unwilling to face the ghosts of his ancestors.
Ever wonder where myths come from? There’s a road near where I live, and the maddest thing happens there quite regularly. A column of mist forms over the road in just this one spot, it’s the weirdest looking thing. Just a small section of road for about ten yards is shrouded in mist. Now, what’s not immediately noticeable is that a stream runs under the road, and every now and then when hot air and cold air interact they make magic. But how would this have looked to the ancients? Is it possible a ghost could be inhabiting the stream? Or a bridge spanning the water could be a portal to another world? Or what about a burning red sunset? I googled this to see why it occurs, because I could, I won’t bore you with the details, but I know for sure if I was sitting on the side of a mountain two thousand years ago herding my sheep, that red sunset would be a portent of doom.
And that’s before we get into hallucinogenic consumption. How many myths were created by people ingesting mushrooms and other substances? I remember this funny story from school. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but it was told to me and the rest of the class by a teacher. An area close to me was famous for sightings of ghosts, (I know, I live in a crazy place). Dozens of people all saw the same apparitions on the road, and legends grew out of it. Well it turned out some ingredient in the local bread had them all tripping out, and they were all having hallucinations. Like I said I don’t know if that is true. I hope so it makes a funny story. That is unless you were one of the unfortunates seeing a headless horseman on his way home from work every evening.
And dragons! There is actual proof that they lived. At least to an ancient digging up a dinosaur fossil there is, imagine how they tried to reason that. Which brings me around nicely to, well, me. I write fantasy books. A lot of my inspiration comes from mythology, Celtic mythology in particular, being Irish and all. I have a character in my book, she is the war god of the northern clans, I loosely based her on a figure from Celtic mythology, The Morrigan, a dark god if ever there was one. The old tales were deliciously dark. Take The Children of Lír for example. Lír’s wife bore him four children, three boys and a girl. Alas for poor Lír and the children, his wife died, so he married her sister. The sister didn’t fancy having the four children around so she turned them into swans and cursed them to live for periods of 300 years on different lakes. When eventually a monk breaks the curse and turns them back into humans, they are nine hundred year old men and woman, and they die. No kiss from a prince and live happily ever after here.
So much fantasy written today is heavily influenced by ancient mythology, Lord of the Rings for example is laden with references to Norse and Celtic myth. There would have been no Gimli or Legolas without Viking lore, no dwarves, no elves, no ring. And what better place to find a source for our stories. It is our heritage, the dreams and fears of our ancestors come to life. In a lot of ways we are the new myth makers. Modern technology has dispelled the magic, myth and rumour. It is in our hands, in the worlds we create. It is up to the fantasy writers to bring the magic to life. To create spaces where readers can immerse themselves, and believe in the unbelievable. We are the custodians of the magic now.
We need magic, just as we need larger than life heroes. Who wants everything explained away by science? I want to believe in a time of legend when heroes came to life.
Long may the magic live.
 
 
A little while ago I was invited to write a guest blog for my good friend Jane Alexander, blogger extraordinaire, and fantastic writer. So now I'm sharing it with you. You can find Jane's book Walker here
 


Friday, 30 August 2013

Shadow Of The Wraith
 
 
 
The latest Bandit Book Bloggers book tour: Shadow Of The Wraith by Ross Harrison. Sci-fi fans check it out!
 
 
Here's the blurb:
 
It sounds like a simple assignment: track down the mysterious Star Wraith and put an end to its rampage. But when Travis Archer and his team of inept soldiers find themselves the most wanted people in the galaxy - hounded by assassins, terrorists and their own military - they realise the Wraith is just a symptom of a much larger problem... Finding war raging between one army intent on destroying an entire species, and another that will destroy the galaxy, Travis much put aside his fears and his past to uncover the truth behind it all. To become the hero he's always imagined.
 
 
 
About the Author:
 Ross Harrison has been writing since childhood without thought of publication. When the idea was planted by his grandmother to do so, it grew rapidly, and after a bumpy ten years or so, here sits the fruit. Ross lives on the UK/Eire border in Ireland, hoping the rain will help his hair grow back.
 
Links:
 
Reviews:
 
‘Travis Archer is a freelance bounty hunter who accepts an official assignment to hunt down and destroy the Star Wraith, a powerful but apparently unmanned ship with the nasty habit of appearing out of nowhere and destroying ships. Although Travis and his crew are the focus of the story, the narrative cuts to other scenes in a cinematic fashion. The more fascinating of these scenes reveal glimpses of a shadowy villain called Baorshraak, whose goals and motivations remain shrouded in mystery even as he appears to be the one pulling the strings.

Harrison writes with a distinct attitude that is very aware of the genre his story takes place in. References are made to the clichés of space opera, which he acknowledges and makes fun of even as he unapologetically takes advantage of them. Many ideas in this book are decidedly familiar--starfleets, space cowboys, humanoid aliens--but they are used well. There is a dry sense of humor that radiates not only from the characters but the narrative itself, as though it isn't taking itself too seriously.

Although this attitude makes for entertaining commentary, there are a few moments where it seems somewhat intrusive--as though it's the author speaking and not the character. Nevertheless, it's what adds an extra bit of sparkle to the already dynamic plot, which carries the reader to unexpected corners of this galaxy.

Overall, Shadow of the Wraith is a smartly plotted and entertaining space adventure that takes the reader on many twists and turns--the direction the story goes in is quite different from what is expected. But in the end, it's really the characters' voices--and Harrison's--that make it memorable. I ended up enjoying it so much that I suffered from two nights in a row of Star Wraith Insomnia--the inability to sleep due to the fact that I had to keep reading.’ – 5 Stars
 
- Mary Fan, Author of Artificial Absolutes
 
~~~
 
‘I have been thinking about what I was going to write in this review for about a day now, and I am still having trouble. The trouble isn't with the book; not not at all! The trouble is that everytime I sit down to write the review, it comes out all fangirly (if that's a word). So, I have given in to this simple fact, and here is my review anyway (fangirl and all).

So this is my first real venture into true science fiction/fantasy type books. I have 'Across the Universe' and 'A Million Suns', and they are set in space, but nothing like this. Which brings me to my first point. When I first got the email from the author asking me to review his book, I was like, 'sure; as long as it's not erotica/western, I'm in'. Then I got to thinking to myself, 'Kari, you have never read a book like this...you are going to be so lost and confused.' Guess what, I wasn't! I was worried that with it set on different planets, and in space, and in the future, I was going to be lost and be left behind. This wasn't the case in the least. In fact, I found myself actually remembering everything and able to keep everything straight in my head...hard to do on most days.

I loved this book...from the first darn page, up until the last. I was constantly hooked, wanting to know what happened next, who did what, why, etc. Shadow of the Wraith is an exceptionally well written book, on top of the awesome plot. This has to be another reason I loved it so much. I constantly found myself in awe at how things were worded. Ross Harrison definitely has a very unique writing style. I loved the humor that was put in the book. I am usually a quiet reader, but I found myself laughing at a lot of parts.

Characters. Ahhh, I was spoiled in this book. The characters were so...real. I felt like I knew each and every one of them, good or bad. Their personalities were awesome, and definitely well portrayed. I never once felt that a character fell flat...even the androids jumped off the page! :) My favorite character had to be Travis. He is now officially MY bad ass space cowboy (read the book!! You will understand!). I honestly fell in love with Travis from the very beginning of the book (and to the despair of everyone who had to listen to me go on and on..some people even thinking he was a real person...). I felt that he was well developed (as were all the characters). Who am I kidding, I loved him because he was a bad ass space cowboy!! I also loved Arkuun-Marl (look, I didn't even have to look up how to spell that). The android was hilarious, and at times I forgot he wasn't a real person. But don't say that to his face!

I felt like this book had constant action. Something was always going on, which was a very great surprise. Most books now have one climax, and nothing really going on until that one part of the book. I didn't think that was the case with this book at all. Another thing...agh..I never knew what was going to happen. I was literally unable to predict a single darn thing (which is unusual with the amount of books I have read; even though none have been in this particular genre, still I've read a lot). So that was a breath of fresh air for me...truly. I was kept guessing the entire time. And the twists that were thrown my way, well, LOVED them.
I feel like the last thing I should say is this....READ IT! This book is absolutly amazing. Okay enough of the fangirl. Just, please, do yourself a favor and pick up this book; you won't regret it!’ – 5 Stars
 
- Kari, Bookishly Devoted Blog
 
~~~
 
‘To begin, I thoroughly enjoyed Shadow of the Wraith. It's like the best elements of every science fiction story you've ever heard of, brought together into one epic adventure!

The cover features a very classic science fiction shot of a ship with a planet in the background. Only this one features a more ominous tone as a ship ploughs its way through a mess of ships.

The story is told from the alternating views of a mass of several different characters and situations. The story begins with the introduction of the very cocky "space cowboy" ex military man known as Travis Archer as he presents the readers to a future where humans have left a ruined Earth and have taken to living among the stars with other humanoid alien species in an uneasy truce, while he tries to carve out a living currently as a bounty hunter. Then we're brought to the primary situation at hand as the reader is apprised to the new ruling power of humans - the Terran Alliance and the growing trouble that this mysterious ship the "Star Wraith" is posing to ships that have crossed its path, and never live to tell the story. In an attempt to stop the Star Wraith, the military hires on bounty hunters as a cheap means to deal with this ghost ship...and guess who takes the job?

In the true fashion of space adventuring - Travis begins by going on a galaxy wide mission of assembling a rag tag crew each with a unique skill to contribute to the team. I have to admit, I love watching these crews come together - and the lengths that Travis goes to get the players he wants was incredible! In addition to Travis as the leader, some other crewmen we stumble upon is the reliable ex military best friend, the sexy but deadly love interest and even a comedic relief android. My only complaint really is that while Harrison tries to put unique features and voices to each character, the less prominent characters tend to blur together which was further exacerbated by switching between first and last names randomly when referring to these characters throughout the story.

My favorite character by far was the android Arkuun-Marl, whose constant quest for equality with humans combined with expert battle skills and the much needed one liners that broke the tension in overly serious moments.

After finding the Star Wraith, they soon discover that the ship isn't what it appears to be at which point they commandeer it in their quest to find the truth, which leads to political intrigue, a secret past and it all lands this misfit crew right in the middle of an age old war.

The villains of the story were constantly shifting, and it was difficult to see who could be trusted and what their motives were. It made for a thrilling adventure as we navigated the minefield of assassins, military personnel and androids to get to the so called "leader".

While Harrison presented what seemed like a straight forward plot idea, it quickly became apparent that this wasn't your usual story. Harrison expertly throws curve balls at the reader, and before you know it there's secrets revealed that completely change the game. I eventually just stopped trying to predict what was going to happen because as soon as I thought I had it figured out, Harrison would drop another bomb that had me reeling.

The characters go through some serious paces as they run across the galaxy hunting down the truth. The technology used in the ships, weapons, armour and bases had considerable thought placed into their design and purpose, which made for richly detailed and thrilling action sections. What completely threw me off was the introduction of some fantasy elements (think mythological creatures) that was a refreshing addition to the usual obstacle course of assassins and androids. Harrison even manages to weave a bit of romance into the story, and while a relationship does eventually form, I think his writing shone primarily in the flirting banter.

All in all, Shadow of the Wraith was an amazing story with witty humour, action, mystery, crazy technology and galactic politics. However, I do feel that it's more suited to fans who already have a solid science fiction background to thoroughly enjoy the references to Firefly, and Arkuun-Marl's Star Trek Scotty references.’ – 4 Stars
 
- Ann, Tea & Text Blog
 
 
 
 
Excerpt:
 
            Moving silently and keeping his eyes peeled, Travis took cover behind the nearest overturned table. With no apparent provocation, one of the pirates opened fire into the second-storey balcony, which ran all the way around the bar. Startled by the sudden shots, the others opened fire too.
            Travis could pick out nothing up there in the shadows, and hadn’t even heard anything before the shooting started – had Draak forced too much herb into these men? Were they hallucinating? Perhaps they killed their fellow crewmembers themselves.
            Eventually, they ceased firing and stood listening for some time, their eyes wide with fear. All Travis could hear was silence and a dull ringing after the gunfire.
            After a while, they began to relax. They lowered their weapons, relieved smiles forming on their lips. Clearly, they thought they’d killed their attackers. Travis watched enough holofilms – in fact, possibly too many – to know this was inevitably the point at which their enemy would strike.
            Sure enough, as they turned to their fallen leader, two long black knives flew out of the shadows and plunged into two necks. As the pirates slumped to the floor, Travis crept forward towards the next overturned table to get a better view of the balcony. Thanks to his curiosity, he neglected to watch his footing, and before he’d gone more than a couple of steps, a shot glass burst under his boot.
            Crap!
            Synn spun round, roaring in terror and defiance, and opened fire on him. Travis made a dive for the cover of the thick metal bar. The pirate’s shots broke the mirror on the wall, and the bottles, showering him in alcohol and glass, both solid and molten.
            To the relief of Travis’ eardrums, Synn had already depleted much of the three-hundred-shot power cell. As soon as he heard the click of the empty weapon, he raised himself just enough to put his arm across the bar top and fire a single bullet into Synn’s forehead. The Izarian fell limply to the ground as blood started to trickle down his face.
            It would be unwise to assume the invisible assailants would be friendly towards Travis. ‘The enemy of my enemy’ was a phrase that got many killed.
            Unwilling to give them any breathing space, Travis vaulted over the bar like a magnificent, tubby gazelle, reaching to his new utility belt. As his boots hit the floor again, he pulled out a small, jelly-coated sphere and threw it with all his might at the ceiling. The orb thumped against the plastic ceiling tiles, the shock activating the device. The jelly became adhesive, keeping it glued to the ceiling. At the same time, the centre of the sphere came alive, radiating bright light into every shadow in the bar.
            Nothing.
            In the brief ten seconds of light, Travis scrutinised every inch of the balcony, where a band usually played for patrons. There was no sign of any living creature in the bar. Perhaps the attackers really were invisible.
            The device flickered and died, dropping to the floor. Darkness poured eagerly back into the corners and recesses.
            The bar was silent, almost calm. Around the balcony, the remnants of the wooden banister smouldered.
            What now?
            Travis had put himself in the open, certain his clever trick would reveal his rival and give him the advantage. Now, he was simply in the open.
 
Purchase links:
 
 
Other works:
 
Temple of the Sixth (Book 2 of NEXUS)
 
When omens of the End Times appear across the galaxy, it signals the start of a war between two immortal forces - the Celestians and the Hierarchy. The Hierarchy have learnt and adapted since they last waged war, forcing the Celestians to enlist the aid of mortals to free a kidnapped god.

Thardriik Jhunassi Kortlyn III - Theak - was a private detective. For a day. Then came the incident with the dead puppy and the inevitable end of his crime-fighting career. Despite his flaws, Theak is a clear choice for the Celestians, and he is drawn into the centre of a battle that will decide the fate of the galaxy.

Time is something the Celestians’ heroes do not have as the Hierarchy’s infection spreads across countless worlds, bending every living creature to their will. With the heroes’ every step bringing them closer towards one final battle, there is only one question: can they defeat an ancient and immortal enemy?
 
~~~
 
Kira
 
Kira's town has so far survived the destruction wrought by the Government on so many others. But for how much longer? In the middle of a blistering desert, her people are out of fuel, out of clean water, and out of options. The Government will destroy them sooner or later, and they won't survive relocation. Their only chance is to attack first. But Kira knows that's no chance at all.
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 


Tuesday, 20 August 2013


The Reluctant Prophet

by

Gillian O’Rourke

 



The Reluctant Prophet by Gillian O'Rourke is due to be published on September 1st by Kristell Ink. Here's the blurb -


There’s none so blind as she who can see . . .

 Esther is blessed, and cursed, with a rare gift: the ability to see the fates of those around her. But when she escapes her peasant upbringing to become a priestess of the Order, she begins to realise how valuable her ability is among the power-hungry nobility, and what they are willing to do to possess it.

Haunted by the dark man of her father's warnings, and unable to see her own destiny, Esther is betrayed by those sworn to protect her. With eyes newly open to the harsh realities of her world, she embarks on a path that diverges from the plan the Gods have laid out. Now she must choose between sacrificing her own heart’s blood, and risking a future that will turn the lands against each other in bloody war.
The Reluctant Prophet is the story of one woman who holds the fate of the world in her hands, when all she wishes for is a glimpse of her own happiness.
 
About the author -
 
Before settling down in the Emerald Isle with her husband and three dogs, Gillian O’Rourke lived in Melbourne, Australia.   She received her first fantasy book from an English teacher at the age of fourteen and has loved the genre ever since.  Although she writes fantasy, she occasionally dabbles in the paranormal.  Gillian currently works in the healthcare sector, helping adults with disabilities live as independently as possible.
Find her -
 
AN EXCERPT FROM THE RELUCTANT PROPHET—
I had never been able to see my own future, not the way I could see it for others. Even now, on my unanticipated return to Rycroft, a part of me rebelled at the thought of facing a past I believed long behind me. If I had known then what a luxury it is to go home, I might not have dismissed it so.
As an initiate to the Order, I learned from women far wiser than I that the past was a wraith that could come back to haunt the future. I imagined it looming overhead like a hidden cloud, waiting, maybe over many years, to rain upon me when I least expected it, not a soft, white thing, but an angry, vengeful thundercloud. Perhaps I had lived too long in the calm now, because I once again began to feel the storm approaching. Entering the village, I steeled myself to face it, but despite the many prayers I had said for courage, that long-forgotten anxiety crept its cold tendrils into my soul.
I escaped the painful memories this place forged in my childhood, and had taken a chance to make my future a safer, happier one. But now I had come full circle, and it was the temple above Rycroft village that held the balance of my future within its cold, imposing walls.
I followed the path past the village with the other initiates, and climbed carved granite steps meticulously shaped by skilled stonemasons. Upon a stone archway were the effigies of the three Gods we Sinnotians worshipped. Lo, Creator and Destroyer, an armoured warrior with the head of a wolf, carried an array of weapons, but it was the large war-hammer in his hand my eyes gravitated to. Beside him stood Era, the graceful feline-faced goddess of emotions, and of life and death. Finally, at Era’s left hand, stood Tyrus, master of elements.  He was the God I most often found myself drawn to, his wise, owl-like features faced the valley directly upon Rycroft.
An expectant hush fell over the group, followed by soft murmurs from the young women. They praised the Gods in whispers, for this sight we beheld as we moved forward, heading for the path into the mountains, awed even the noble-born among us. Like a flock of white doves, innocently seeking an arbour to rest in, we wore the modest robes all initiates of the Order wore, to signify their intentions to serve the Gods. But only a select few would ever don the red robes of a fully-fledged priestess. The final testing awaited us. I already knew that most of the girls would return home dressed in the same clothes they had worn before their training began, and all I could do was to hope I would not be one of them.
I glanced over my shoulder, catching a final glimpse of my birthplace, and the anxiety melted away; it was behind me now. A veil of calmness enveloped me as I turned my gaze to the temple looming ahead. Its exterior was a thing of perfection, as if the Gods themselves had used a hot sword to cut through the stone. Barely a window could be seen from this low vantage point. A shiver ran across my skin. Like the tip of my tongue verging on speaking a forgotten word, an elusive vision teetered on the edge of my sight. The sensation faded away before fruition, however, and was replaced with awed anticipation for what I was soon to encounter.
It would take several days to test the initiates in their obedience, faith and humility. At the end of the ordeal, I hoped to find myself clad in the red robes of a Priestess of Oraccles.
Give me strength, I begged the Gods as we settled into the long climb. My legs began to burn and the summer sun was growing hot with the afternoon. The priestess ahead turned and eyed each one of us. Most of the initiates did not notice her quiet surveillance, but when my eyes met hers, her gaze narrowed before she looked away and sharply directed the girls to quicken their pace. Her scrutiny left me wondering whether the testing had already begun.
*
Days of inflicted pain, humiliation and cruelty brought me close to the brink of madness, closer to my gift, leaving me weary in body and spirit. I did not know which part of me hurt more, but when my eyes met those of the head priestess, the superior who would decide my fate, the keen pain of expected failure rose in my chest. Her dark eyes seemed to swallow me whole. I felt both hot and cold at once; days of obedience, suffering and fasting had blurred the days into one long torture. I longed to sit and weep, but my body was too sore to do anything but kneel slowly, stiffly into a submissive position. Many girls had failed, and now I was to learn my own fate. My ears were ringing and I almost cried out when my knee, cut open on a sharp stone during one of the tests, sent pain reverberating throughout my body. I kept my eyes upon the superior’s face. Lined and calm, her expression betrayed nothing.
I flinched when an unexpected vision assaulted my senses, propelling me from the room and into a place I barely caught a glance of. A trace of darkness; a laugh, a dark green eye. Each small glimpse offered me no more than a confusing jumble of images I could not piece together to make a whole picture. Swaying, I wondered if I was ill. My body throbbed and the days of fasting, beatings and silence became as fractured and unreal as my visions. The testing had taken its toll, but I needed only make it through this last moment. As I fought to return to myself, I worried again that I would make it this far, only to be rejected because of what I was: a peasant.
The superior rose. My awareness had been completely focused on her and I had not noticed an inch of the marble-columned room I had been brought to. The distracting sparkle of candlelight danced on a pool of water and I looked away quickly, not wishing to see the future reflected in those waters. The superior’s thin lips moved, but I heard no sound. The ringing in my ears worsened and my heart rate trebled. When she stood before me, she lifted her hand and smeared something powdery against my forehead. Her touch sent waves of premonition into my mind, making my skin shiver and creep. Fighting the urge to succumb to the sight left me weak and trembling.
I was not altogether myself when I managed to overcome the visions. My chest constricted when a distant voice – certainly not the superior’s worn croak – spoke to me, gently whispering, ‘Esther . . . Esther,’ over and over.
All the while the superior’s mouth moved, but I knew nothing of her words. The room tilted and the first spark of emotion lifted the older woman’s eyes from blankness. For a moment I believed I was succumbing to the visions her touch was invoking, but I slipped instead into waiting darkness.
 
Here's the purchasing info -
 
 
Paperback  ISBN  978-1-909845-18-3
USA $16.99                         UK £9.99
 
Kindle        ISBN  978-1-909845-19-0
USA $4.99                           UK £2.99
 
ePub           ISBN  978-1-909845-20-6
USA $4.99                           UK £2.99
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



 

Sunday, 11 August 2013

Healer's Touch Blog Tour.
 
 
 
 
 
I'm taking part in the blog tour for Healer's Touch, a Bandit Book Blogger's tour.
 
Healer's Touch, is a fantasy story in a Wild West setting, a nice change from the norm. Llew is an orphan living alone in a mining town, a girl disguised as a boy, for obvious reasons. She posesses a powerful gift/curse, she is capable of healing herself by absorbing the life and vitality of anything living she touches. You can see how this could get her into trouble. A wonderfully creative fantasy, full of adventure, magic and a little romance, from Deb E. Howell. Healer's Touch is published by Kristell Ink
 
Here's the blurb -
 
Llew, a young pickpocket who lives as a boy on the streets of a wild-west mining town, finds her real problems begin when she survives the gallows. Forced to run, she persuades a group of fighters escorting a young girl to her wedding to let her travel with them across the badlands. On the journey Llew faces hostile tribesmen, desperate bandits and, the enmity of her own companions should they find out who and what she is: a girl, a fugitive, and a feared Healer. One of the fighters, Jonas, possesses superhuman prowess as a warrior, and carries the knife able to ‘kill the unkillable’; the knife that can kill Llew. Despite being of races at war for centuries, they are drawn to one another.
During the journey, they encounter Braph the magician, Jonas’ half-brother and potential nemesis. He pursues them as they journey across the sea to the continent of Phyos and at the moment Llew finally feels safe, he abducts her. He begins to take what is most precious to him: her blood.
Healer’s Touch is a mesmerising mix of fantasy, steampunk and Wild West adventure – and even a dash of romance!
 
About the author -
 
Deb E was born in New Zealand’s North Island, but her parents corrected that within months, moving south to Dunedin and staying there. Childhood nights were spent falling asleep to cover versions of Cliff Richard and the Shadows and other Rock ’n Roll classics played by her father’s band, and days were spent dancing to 45 LPs. Many of her first writing experiences were copying down song lyrics. She graduated to scientific reports when she studied a fungus in the Zoology department of the University of Otago, trading all traces of popularity for usefulness... then traded both for fiction.

Deb lives in Dunedin, New Zealand with her family and a menagerie of pets.
 
Check her out here - Blog
                               - Facebook
                               - Twitter
 
Buy links               - Amazon US
                              - Amazon UK
                              - Smashwords
 
 
 
 


Thursday, 18 July 2013



Just released, a zombie apocalypse like none you've ever read before!


"It is said that unto everything there is a season...these are the stories of a group of survivors during the season of the dead."

Four individuals fight to survive as the zombie apocalypse crashes over the world in a wave of terror and destruction. Color, creed, and social standing mean nothing as the virus infects millions across the planet.

Sharon: a zoologist from Nebraska, USA, has worked with the virus, and has seen the effects on the human mind. She knows more about the virus than nearly anybody alive, and far more than she wants to. Gerry: from Ontario, Canada, he gets his first taste of the virus from inside a prison cell. Locked up after an anti-government riot, his prison guard transforms before his eyes into a flesh craving zombie. Lucia: a chemist from Pittsburgh, USA, flees from a furry convention dressed as a giant squirrel, and escapes from the city in a Fed-Ex van. She's a girl who knows when to run and when to fight. Paul: thinks he can sit out the apocalypse in his apartment block in Dublin, Ireland, until the virus comes to visit, bursting his bubble and leaving him with no choice but to face reality or perish.

All four begin perilous journeys in mind and body as they face daily trials to survive: Four threads, four different parts of the world, one apocalypse!

Buy it here.

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Goodreads


 

Monday, 6 May 2013






AMERICA

 

 

 

They say my mother was cursed by a travelling gypsy the night she gave birth to me. I can see the truth in that. I gave her nothing but cause to despair from the time I could totter on two legs. My father was a liar, a thief and a black-hearted bastard. He made his fortune off the backs and misery of other people. I inherited his evil streak and nasty temperament, and my, long suffering, mother’s good looks. A combination that was to serve me well, but would lead to my ultimate doom.

Both my parents died just short of my nineteenth birthday. My father was beaten to death, in the street, by a jealous husband. No doubt he is even now supping with the devil, in an honoured spot at the right hand of Beelzebub. My mother died of shame. I was their only son, though I had three older sisters, they were the wrong sex, so I inherited everything. My family was the closest thing to gentry in a pitiful, windswept place at the edge of the world. A few miserable acres on the side of a rocky mountain rented out to desperate men, who dig in the hard barren soil, barely growing enough to pay the rent, let alone feed their families.

There is not a woman between the ages of sixteen and thirty, within sight of the mountain and beyond who has not had promises of love and a better life from me. I take what I want and leave nothing… well, save for a few unwanted gifts, who will likely as not look me in the eye one day and spit in my face. With a sneer and a look of contempt I turn from their tears. I am truly my father’s son.

I’ve never had a taste for strong whiskey… okay, that’s a lie, not the last you’ll hear uttered from these lips. That’s what I am, a fibber, a twister of truths, a bull-shitter, a bloody liar. Not the worst thing I’ve been called either, a rogue and vagabond, a cheat and blackguard.  All true. One lesson I’ve learned, and learned it the hard way, no matter how big of an evil bastard you are, no matter how strongly meanness and nastiness runs through you, there is always someone meaner.

I first saw her on stage, I was transfixed, bewitched, I had to have her. To this day I wonder did she cast a spell on me. She was a dancer with a travelling show, all the way from the US of A, bringing a taste of the Wild West to the villages and towns of this backward land. To me she was exotic, the way she looked, the way she danced, the way she sounded. I sold the family land for half what it was worth, despite the protestations of my sisters, and paid for passage to America. From New York to Chicago we danced and drank, we laughed, we fought and we fucked. It was passionate, explosive passion. She told me she loved me, I told her I hated her, we both lied. We followed the gold trail west, in search of easy money and an easier life. All we found were sad desperate people scratching in the dirt, much like home I suppose. The money ran out, my inheritance squandered on opium and liquor. “What should we do now?” says I. She shrugged and smiled and closed the door behind her.

I have nothing, even the shirt on my back was stolen from a drunken cowboy as he slept in a stupor. “Good enough for him,” I can hear them say back home. They’re right too. I’m stuck here now, where the summers are too hot and the winters are too cold, where the whiskey would rot your gut and every second person wants to steal the eyes from your head. I’ve burnt my bridges and can never return.

Sometimes I conjure images of home, I can almost feel the soft rain on my face, hear the whistle of the wind through the trees on a moonlit night, or smell the pungent earthy smell of a freshly tilled field or an open peat fire. What I usually imagine, what occupies nearly every waking thought and haunts my dreams, giving me no respite even in sleep, is the taste of peaches from her lips, the hint of summer meadows in the air when she passes by. And that is no lie.