2017 - A Life Through Books

Saturday, December 23, 2017

PROMO Blitz: Sketched by @SummerPrescott1 #thriller #excerpt
12:00 AM0 Comments


Thriller
Date Published: November 2017

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png


Fledgling police sketch artist Piper Cooke has always been different.

Gifted with second sight, but cursed with a life of tragedy, she has survived the feral streets of Dixon and has triumphed over her troubled upbringing. Piper faces her biggest challenge yet, however, when her visions compel her to disobey police orders and send her right into the wicked grasp of a madman.

Her life should've ended back in the blood soaked suburban basement, but it didn't. Instead, the brutal trauma that should've been the end of her only makes her unique abilities stronger.

Years after her escape, a series of hideous visions force Piper out of hiding and back into the city that almost destroyed her years ago. Plagued by premonitions of doom, she finds herself compelled to track down Dixon's most twisted serial killer yet.

Follow Piper through a horrifically unsettling labyrinth of family secrets, corruption and the sickening workings of humanity’s darkest minds.





Excerpt

Chapter One

July 23rd 2012 12:35 pm

Dixon City - Suburbs

 She had given up on the hope of surviving this.

 Perhaps it was hours ago that the switch had been flicked in her brain, but it could have been minutes. It could’ve been days. Anything remaining of Megan’s sanity, that rational part of her that had the ability to form coherent thoughts had dissolved as quickly and completely as a sugar cube in a cup of scalding tea.

 The only thing she knew now for sure was pain. It had taken over her mind, hand in hand with a kind of fear that she couldn’t have possibly comprehended before. It was a combination that no one survives to talk about.

 Her world had been reduced to the basement she was being held in.

 Beth.

 She had assured Megan that the dealer was legitimate. The house had seemed safe enough. Nevertheless, a nervousness had blossomed the moment they stepped off the bus, and it had continued to grow in her stomach with every step the two of them had taken to the address Beth’s new online ‘friend’ had given her.

 “C’mon Megan. Don’t be a chicken shit,” Beth had scowled.

 Beth was scary when she was mad.

She always had been. Her narrow eyes and wiry red hair gave her an off-putting look that she’d used to her advantage since childhood. Beth had practically dragged Megan up the cracked concrete path that led to the house, her freckled arms so much more powerful.

There had been a dog barking in the background, she could remember that much. For some reason, its yapping had sent warning signals off all through her body, only increasing the tension that was building steadily inside her.

Megan had known that they were risking it by skipping school to buy drugs in the worst part of town. She’d seen enough horror movies to know that this was how all immoral teenage girls were punished. Instead of knocking on the door of a drug house, she should’ve been in first-period biology. But she wasn’t.

She hadn’t wanted to be chicken shit.

Megan blinked at the paneling and matted green carpet that decorated her prison. Beth had escaped. Of course she had, she had always been the stronger one. Thick boned and fearless like some kind of suburban Viking.

It hadn’t come as a shock at all when, through eyes clouded with tears, she saw Beth begin to successfully loosen her wrist bonds. Her skin had torn from the rope, and the blood that coated her hands like red satin gloves eventually helped her to slide free.

Beth hadn’t looked back at her when she slipped through the basement window. Her face had been so transformed with fear and outright panic that she looked more like a wild animal than a human.

It had been when Megan helplessly watched the soles of Beth’s sneakers disappearing through the casement window that the rational part of her mind had broken.

Two girls never escaped. There was always one left behind.

There was always one set of parents collapsing with grief in the background while the survivor’s family turned their elated smiles to the news cameras.

Megan Coogan, who had willingly allowed Beth to cheat off her in school almost daily. Megan Coogan, who had lied to Beth’s parents so that their daughter could make out with some nameless boy in the dusty corner of a playground.

That Beth would carry on, finish school, get married, get a job, maybe even have kids.

Megan Coogan would never leave this basement.

The sound of footsteps on the creaking stairs sent a surge of adrenaline through Megan’s system, drowning out her thoughts and causing her limbs to go rigid. Breathing heavily, she listened to the wood groan as he moved slowly down the steps, as if deep in thought.

The door opened carefully, and he stepped in the room.


About the Author


E.M. Townsend is an incredibly talented writer who hails from the Great White North. This amazing wordsmith crafts intricate tales of horror and suspense that will keep you up at night. S. Prescott Thrillers has named E.M. Townsend as one of the hottest new novelists in the genre.



Contact Links
  



Purchase Link



RABT Book Tours & PR
Reading Time:
Virtual Book Tour: She Do Run Run by Amy Swifton #interview #giveaway
12:00 AM1 Comments

Romantic Suspense
Date Published: September 26, 2017
Publisher: Broadback

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

She Do Run Run is a fast, double-shot-of-espresso read. Its heart-racing story can be consumed in a few quick hours.

Jenny’s life is shattered when her Special Ops husband is killed. To escape the pain, she falls into a dangerous cycle of random sex and booze, and one night she kills a violent man.

She runs off into the unknown, desperate to survive and change her life. That’s when Lieutenant Jon Dowling appears.


Interview


What is the hardest part of writing your books?
Facing that blank white page every morning.  The empty page seems to ask, with a challenge, “Hey, there, do you have the guts to face me today?”


What songs are most played on your Ipod?
Jazz, classic rock and indies


Do you have critique partners or beta readers?
Yes… Good and honest friends, who sometimes give me the raspberry or stick a finger in their mouth, when they read something they don’t like.  Hey, wait a minute, are they really good friends?


What book are you reading now?
The Address by Fiona Davis
The Invisibles by Jesse Holland
113 Minutes by James Patterson/Max DiLallo


How did you start your writing career?
In college, writing short stories and articles about crazy love

Time is Tight is a time travel novel.

Charlotte must return to 1969 to save her family from a tragedy she could have prevented. Time is short, she's sick, and her younger self is not what she remembered. Will she survive to save her family? The surprise ending is nothing she could have ever imagined


About the Author

I'm a Florida-based writer, who loves all things romantic, with a shot of suspense.  I also love to write Time Travel Novels.
When the characters keep me up nights, I feel good about the story.

Contact Links


Purchase Links




Reading Time:

Friday, December 22, 2017

PROMO Blitz: Sorcerers' Dynasty by @RAGEOFWORDS #excerpt
12:00 AM0 Comments


Sci-fi Fantasy
Date Published: October 2017

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png


An epic struggle to claim eternity.

Since time immemorial the world has been a theater of illusion...

Ruled by a Sorcerers' Dynasty.


Beyond the arctic wall of ice lies a new and unknown world. One man plans to sacrifice the known world and everything in it to gain immortality in paradise. The world is filled with lies and liars and America's most controversial alternative media journalist Dan Sheraton wants to find out why. Strange things have been seen out in the New Mexico desert, and when an even stranger phone call leads him on a dangerous adventure to a mysterious destination, Sheraton discovers earth shattering epiphanies. When an insidious plot hatched by a shadowy global corporation threatens the survival of mankind the most unlikely hero emerges.





Excerpt



Excerpt from Sorcerers’ Dynasty by Stephen Perkins copyright 2017 all rights reserved.



Introduction:

September2001, D.A.R.C. facility (Center for advanced research and development) deep beneath the arctic ice rim

The new age of darkness was about to fall. It was the epoch of nightmares, demons, and hateful spirits, hatched out from the foul womb of mankind’s subconscious.

And yet, there was nothing new except what had been forgotten. Since time immemorial, the world had always been merely a theater of illusion, albeit a very persistent one, ruled by a sorcerers’ dynasty.

A long shadow slowly crept from a dark corner of the laboratory and into the spangled light. From between the array of shiny consoles and computer monitors blinking gold, green, and blue, Dr. Nathaniel Martin proudly gazed upon his twin creations.

More than any of his inventions over the long centuries, of these he was most proud. Though patents for his most brilliant creations had been filed under the property of his benefactor, Serenity Corporation, the sensory thrill derived from the sheer act of creation, and the idealistic notion merely one of his inventions may benefit mankind, had sufficed and sustained him. For, what were material wealth, comfort, and fleeting fame, Martin pondered, next to the higher considerations of advancing the interests of his fellow man?

Among his other ground-breaking inventions, he pondered the significance of one of his other great discoveries, the secret to human immortality. Would that his desire to share it with the world at large came to bear, Martin thought, but for the iron hand of his benefactor, Serenity Corporation. Though Serenity represented his master, Martin contemplated, throughout the centuries, it had shown itself to be unprincipled, ungrateful, and selfish, believing in nothing save its own material enrichment.

In cool deliberation, he stroked the silvered strands of his well-trimmed beard. Stepping from out of the shadows, he arched his skeleton thin frame over the glass canopy. They were as much symbolic as material flesh, he thought, one black, the other white, representing mankind’s inherent duality. Now, his decades of painstaking research into the creation of sentient life had at last come to triumphant fruition. The doctor glanced at a young laboratory technician standing nearby, tapping figures onto the screen of a digital tablet.

“Congratulations Doctor,” the young colleague said. “Your advanced gene editing process created the first trans-human sentient beings. But now, you’ve successfully drawn the roadmap to mankind’s evolutionary future.”

A proud smile drew across the doctor’s countenance. Owl large brown eyes twinkled beneath gold rimmed spectacles. “I believe you are correct,” Martin replied in a profound whisper. “Indeed, both specimens represent the next evolutionary step for mankind. They shall be placed with carefully vetted and deserving families,” Martin said. “Public records will be made to look legitimate. It will appear as if they were adopted. They shall be attended only by authorized technicians posing as family physicians. They shall appear human, their lives playing out normally. No one, shall suspect anything amiss.”

Setting down the tablet, the technician drew closer to Martin.

“It shall be intriguing to observe how varying environments shall influence social development and assimilation, doctor.”

Martin’s slender fingers floated over the canopied glass like wild birds. His active mind churned with grand speculation.

“Yes, this experiment presents a unique opportunity,” Martin agreed. “After reincarnating, with no memory of their past lives, the fundamental and hypothetical question of the ages shall be determined. Which factor ultimately determines human development, is it nature, or nurture?”

Ruminating deeply, he wondered if making his private deal with the Archons, would, in the end, be worth it. Had he made a mistake? Would having agreed to resurrect the ancient spirits, bring about unforeseen, even disastrous consequences?

“I wonder which shall ultimately prevail to inherit the garden of Eden,” Doctor Martin speculated.

“Will it be good, or evil?”

A sly smile drew across Martin’s haggard but handsome features. No one, he was quite certain, not even Serenity Corporation, or the Archon spirits, possessed knowledge there was yet another sarcophagus secretly buried within the Arctic ice.

Momentarily silent, Martin grew enamored with the vivid implications of his own speculative thought.

“Imagine, if my own spirit, in combination with those of the four Archons, were to inhabit one immortal trans-human machine, shall I, have become God?”



About the Author


In just his first year as an independent author, Massachusetts native Stephen Perkins' thrilling, entertaining, and thought provoking novels Raging Falcon, American Siren, Escape to Death and now the dark supernatural thriller Sorcerers' Dynasty have fast gained a loyal and rabid audience. While enjoying the books, be sure to check out Newsspellcom.org for a unique perspective on the news of the world one shall not surely discover anywhere else! Or, stop by for a visit on Twitter 


Contact Links



Purchase Links



RABT Book Tours & PR
Reading Time:

Thursday, December 21, 2017

PROMO Blitz: Sebastian: The Life of Sebastian and Hanna Greene @laadejohnson #excerpt
5:12 PM0 Comments




Romance, Women’s Fiction
Date Published:  April 2016
Publisher: Aldage Books Publishing

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png


Sebastian was turned into a vampire on his eighteenth birthday by his mother, whom he thought had died ten years earlier. His mother teaches him how to live amongst humans without spilling human blood. Almost two centuries later, his mother is killed and he blames humans. After a year of brutally killing humans to exact vengeance, he comes upon the young child of a woman he just killed. He can't bring himself to hurt the girl, so he names her Hanna after his mother, and finds a family to raise her. He anonymously provides for her, making sure her new parents have all the money they need to ensure she has a good life. Sebastian disappears from Hanna's life to better himself for all the killings he has committed. Although Hanna is out of his life, Sebastian can't get her out of his head, and believes his love for her is like a father. He reappears in her life seventeen years later to see how she is faring, only to see that Hanna has grown into a beautiful woman. He falls in love with her all over again, but this time as a lover. He plans an "accidental" meeting, which does not go well. Before Sebastian leaves Hanna once again, he learns that vampires and wolves are after her. Now it is up to Sebastian to secretly guard Hanna's life.






Other Books in the Sebastian Series:



Sebastian 2: Dark Times Arising
Publisher: Aldage Books Publishing


He lifted his hands to wipe the tears, and as his hands moved from her cheek to the corner of her lips, he longed to kiss her.

Hanna could tell what was on his mind and for a mad second, she also wanted to kiss him; she wanted to understand why she was suddenly attracted to him. For a second they stared at each other and then their lips met and moved against each other with want. The kiss was all that Hector had dreamed that it would be; he felt alive; with his eyes closed, his head was spinning with desire, and he pulled her closer to him as if his life depended on it.

For Hanna, it was nice; at first it made her stop hurting inside, but something felt wrong and different in her head; it was not like she had felt with Sebastian; then the thought of Sebastian jolted her brain and she pulled away at once.

While Hanna and Sebastian embark on dealing with the pain of their separation from each other, Hanna continues to gain more enemies all hungry for her powers. With all the wars raging, Sebastian finds it hard to walk away even though Hanna made it clear she didn’t need him. But later, Hanna discovers a revelation about someone, news that may help heal their sufferings but would it be enough or is it too little too late for their love …









Sebastian 3: CONQUEST OF POWER
Publisher: Aldage Books Publishing


Sebastian's eyes close as he tries to welcome the inevitable, but then she speaks again and this time, she calls him "S." In his weakened state, excitement surges through him; Sebastian wonders if he is hallucinating again. He knows troubled minds conceive desperate ideas that bring about all sorts of imaginations, and he is sure that he is hearing things that aren't real. "S, can you hear me?" Hanna pleads.

Mason Benedict continues his quest to resurrect his wife, Annemarie, and to gain the gift of light that enables vampires to exist in daylight and walk under the sun. His fame grows and many vampires join his army at the prospect of becoming day walkers. For this to happen, Hanna's blood and powers must be siphoned. Sebastian and Hanna must be found; imminent war is brewing. Hanna finds that she must also defend against the malicious Hilda Denali of the wolf tribe. Hilda blames Hanna for the curse on her tribe; her mission is simply to kill Hanna and cleans the wolf curse. Although Sebastian and Hanna are united again, there is a third wheel in their union, Hector, who has decided that Sebastian must die, but will his plans work? Sebastian and Hanna must decide whether to fight for their freedom or to run.

Conquest of Power is the much anticipated third book in Elizabeth Johnson's captivating Sebastian vampire romance saga.







Excerpt



Chapter 12

I got back home just before dawn. I was caught between the excitement of meeting her again and the way I had left things with her. My body tingled all through the day. I could not rest. I could not get her out of my head or control how happy I was inside. I watched the clock, impatiently waiting for the time to fly, by but it crawled along. I silently wished I had the power to walk in the sun, just to see her reflection. Her face and her scent consumed me all day long. It felt like torture having to wait for the sun to go down. I knew I should rest, but it was impossible to do so. How could I sleep when I was already dreaming of her? I replayed our conversations repeatedly in my head, and my body melted at the thought of being with her again.

At last, it was safe to go out. Looking my best, I drove to the art and music centre. I wanted to get there before she did, just to watch her arrive. I impatiently sat in my car and waited until she arrived. She pulled in driving her Toyota Corolla and got out of the car. I saw her looking around as if searching for someone. I wondered if she was looking for me. As usual, she looked breath-taking. I opened the car door to get out and cautioned myself not to make any fast moves in my attempt to get to her. I looked up at her again to see where she was. Someone was with her. I could tell who it was by the awful smell that greeted my nostrils. I became annoyed at myself for not getting out of the car sooner and angry at him for being here. I was not aware that he took lessons here too, although I am not surprised, seeing as he follows her about like a pet dog.

I followed behind them, walking at a slower pace and listening to their conversation. He bored me with his silly talk, and I just wished he would go away so I could have a moment with her. Not knowing what to do with myself now that her attention was elsewhere, I quickly walked past them, pretending that I had not seen them. Disappointed that she did not notice me, I carefully opened the front door to go inside not wanting to repeat the disaster from before. Then she called out. “Hi!” she said.

I looked back to see who she was greeting and saw her eyes on me. “Oh, it’s you again.” I pretended as though I was just seeing her for the first time today.

“Yes, it’s me. Were you expecting someone else?” she joked.

I smiled; glad I had her attention at last. “No, not really,” I said, and she smiled back. I tried not to look at the boy next to her. Although I could not overlook the stench oozing from him, I did not want to look at him unless I really had to.

“Oh, how silly of me. You two haven’t met, have you? This is my friend, Huritt Denali, and this is—” I did not take my eyes off her as she tried to introduce us. “Sorry, I don’t even know your name,” she said.

“Sebastian,” I responded.

“Sebastian,” she repeated slowly. I loved the way she said my name. “What a lovely name you have.” She smiled. “Er—Huritt, meet Sebastian.”

I looked in his direction just for a second and greeted him with a nod of the head out of courtesy to her. His hands were already stretched forward for a handshake, but I ignored them. I could see the anger in his eyes, although I think he tried to control it for her sake. I refused to let him distract me and focused my attention on Hanna, who seemed as excited to see me as I was to see her.

“I looked around for you earlier,” she said.

“Did you now?” I asked, secretly happy that it was me she was scanning around for earlier.

She smiled and turned to Huritt. “Huritt, I will see you around later, okay? I want to have a chat with Sebastian.” I looked over at him just to see his reaction because I knew he would be fuming inside, and I was right. His eyes were like thunder, and I enjoyed his little expression of detest or anger or whatever it was he was trying to express. It didn’t bother me one bit. I still had not found out what he was, but I hoped for his own sake that he was not what I suspected him to be. Glad that he was gone, I now had Hanna’s full attention. She was looking at me.

“I didn’t think you would come,” she said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“It’s nothing, just that I got the feeling I upset you yesterday with something I said.”

“And I told you that you didn’t say anything out of place. I’m sorry for my behaviour yesterday. It was uncalled for. It’s just—I get like that when the subject of my mother is raised.”

“I promise not to talk about her again,” she said. I smiled. It felt amazing standing here talking with her. I have never felt like this with anyone.

“Thank you. That’s very polite of you.” She brushed her hair away from her face—I like it when she does that.

“So, what do we talk about then?” she asked.

“Anything you like,” I replied.

“Are you sure? You would let me know if there was something you aren’t comfortable with? I mean, sometimes I just ramble on, you know, without thinking.”

“Don’t worry about it. I am a good listener, and I have all the time in the world to listen to you ramble.” We both laughed.

“You see yourself as a gentleman, don’t you? I mean, for a teenager like myself, you are quite something.”

“I try my dandiest to always be on my best behaviour,” I replied and quickly added, “but by all means, let me know if you prefer the bad-boy image. It may surprise you what I can become in a short space of time.”

“No this will do just fine,” she replied. I noticed her blushing, and I was glad that it had something to do with me. Then she said, “Why do I feel like there is something mysterious about you, like something you are not telling me. I don’t know, I just get this feeling like—”

“Like what?” I asked.

She paused and looked at me. “I don’t know what it is, but there is something about you, and I just—I just want to know you more. I kind of want to spend more time with you. I’m sorry, I am doing it again. We just met, and already I am asking you to be generous with your time. I have no right—”

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” I said gently. “I like talking to you,” I reassured her.

“But I’m scaring you off.”

I looked at her and could tell she was genuinely worried. I wanted to put her little heart at peace and made light of her worry. “I’m still here. That should tell you something. Look, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but there is nothing I don’t like about you. I promise you, it will take a lot for me to be scared off.” I chuckled, and I could see in her eyes that she was feeling more at ease.

“I’m keeping you from your lesson, aren’t I?”

“No, you are not,” I replied, and she smiled shyly and bit her lower lip. That’s another thing that is beginning to grow on me.

“What are you here for anyway?” she asked.

“Sorry?”

“What lessons did you enrol to take?”

“Oh. Piano lessons.”

“Seriously, I shouldn’t keep you. I’m very good with the keyboard. I am just here to pass time really. I hate being stuck at home doing nothing. You should go before you miss your class altogether.”

“What if I want to stay here with you?” I asked.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Why? Because I like you, and you’re growing on me,” I said.

“I kind of thought I heard you say that before,” she said.

“No, I did not. Earlier I said that there is nothing I don’t like about you.”

“It’s all the same. And I like that you like me. Isn’t it too soon to tell that you like someone? I mean we just met not too long ago.”

“Maybe. You said you liked me yesterday after only five minutes. I’m allowed to tell you I like you too aren’t I? It doesn’t really make any difference to me the length of time in between. I’ve liked you since I first set eyes on you,” I said.

“Is that true?” she asked. “Even with blood oozing off my face?” I smiled and looked away. I didn’t know what to say to that. I do not like to remember the day I swung the door in her face. “I have said something you don’t like, haven’t I? I can tell. Although you are smiling, your eyes look pained.” I wondered how she could read me so well just by looking at me.

“You’re right. It’s just that I still regret the circumstances in which we met.” She stared at me and was looking into my eyes as if she was searching for something.

“Yeah, but there’s more isn’t there? I can see you’re trying very hard to hide something.”

“Like what?” I was puzzled.

“Oh God, I am doing it again. Sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing this. It’s just that when I’m around you I get this—this feeling, as if I’ve known you—it’s weird. You must excuse me. I’m ruining it all.” She was about to go.

“No, don’t go. I’m—I’m not offended. I meant it when I said I like you, and if it means you are going to act strangely sometimes, I—I don’t mind at all, as long as I get to spend time with you.”

“Really?” she asked shyly.

I nodded and replied, “Yeah, really.”

Then she smiled and looked relieved. “It feels right you know,” she said quietly.

“What feels right?” I asked.

“Being friends with you,” she responded.

I don’t think there is anything about her I can fault. In my mind, it feels like I am drunk, only it isn’t anything like that. I am just so happy to be with her, and I have never felt like this in my life, both, either as a human or a vampire.

For the rest of the evening, we sat outside by her car talking, which she did most of, while I listened. She enjoyed talking, and I, in turn, loved listening to her. She spoke about her childhood. I would ask her a question about when she was younger, and she filled in the rest. I loved it because she told me those things I missed while she was growing up. Every night she told me a different story. We skipped music classes almost every day that we met. She felt guilty all the time because she thought she was depriving me of my lessons. I convinced her that I was old enough to make my own decisions.

After about two weeks of hanging out together every evening, I already knew most of the things about her that I had missed. Occasionally, she would ask me questions about my past, such as wanting to know the kind of childhood I had. I noticed she never mentioned my mother again, and as it was my fault. So I decided to tell her about her. I tried to answer her questions truthfully, telling her the little I remembered about my human life. I told her how I felt when my mother died, and how lonely, depressed, and angry I became. I told her my mother had been killed and was found on the side of the road. I told her that she died when I was just eight years old, which is still very true, considering I was only talking about my human life.

Then she said, “I wonder what I would do if my mother died. I can’t see her dead, you know. I can’t think of it. Thoughts of her dying scare me. If someone were to hurt her, I don’t think I have it in me to forgive such a person.” My mind immediately went to that night I had her birth mother in my hands, and I regretted killing her all over again. This is one secret that can never come out, I thought, or I risk losing her forever. I tried to get the thought out of my head because she usually can tell when I am hiding something.

“I have not seen your friend, er—what is his name again?” I said quickly, changing the subject, not that I cared about him.

“Oh, Huritt? Poor Huritt.”

“Why poor Huritt?” I asked.

“It’s nothing really,” she said.

“No, please tell me. I want to know.”

“Oh, okay. He kind of likes me, I think. Okay, a little more than I think he should, you know. But the thing is, he told me he doesn’t like that I’m friends with you because he and I don’t spend any time together since I became friends with you.”

“Oh, well,” I said in reply.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” she asked.

“What do you want to hear? That I prefer to be in his shoes? Because the answer is I don’t. I love being with you, as long as my presence does not bother you. Does it?”

“No, it doesn’t. I love being with you, too.” She flashed me that smile that I have come to adore. I looked at her and was swelling inside, because of what she just said. She looked away shyly, and I dropped my gaze.

“I feel bad, though,” she added. I looked at her.

“I just chose you over him and am happy about it. It’s selfish of me, don’t you think?”

“Sometimes, we need to do the thing that makes us happy. You can’t please everyone without hurting yourself. Allow yourself to be happy.”

“Wow, he has wisdom as well. You are really something,” she said laughing, and I snickered.

I had to go hunting. This time around, I needed to go far to find a bigger game to feed on if I was to be around her this much. I did not want any temptation. I wanted to start early so I could return before dawn. I had not told her yet that I would be leaving earlier than usual. I wish I didn’t have to leave, but it was important that I feed for both our sakes.

“Hanna,” I called. She turned and looked at me. “I will be leaving early today. I have to go somewhere important.”

“Is it far? Can I come with you?” she asked.

“I wish you could, but you can’t—er—I have to leave now before it gets too late. I’ll see you sooner than you think, though,” I said, annoyed at myself for having to leave her, but it was necessary that I feed. She looked sad that I was leaving.

“Cheer up,” I said. “At least now you get to take those lessons that you tell your parent you come here for.” She laughed, and I was glad she was feeling better.

“Okay. Will I see you tomorrow then?” she asked, still a little disappointed that I was leaving.

“Of course, where else would I be?” I raised my hand to touch her face, feel her warmth, and just reassure her that I would be seeing her soon, but I could not. I did not want to get too close. Reluctantly I pulled it back and put it in my pocket and just walked away.


About the Author


Elizabeth Johnson enjoys books and even loves writing them better. She started to write books at a very young age. The author finds writing very exhilarating and is very passionate about her characters. Some of her plots come from dreams she's had, however, 99% of her stories are pure fiction. She is a hopeless romantic and that reflects in most of her books. She currently lives in London with her family.



Contact Links



Purchase Links





RABT Book Tours & PR
Reading Time:
Virtual Book Tour: The Great Pink Hunter by Grahame Bond #review
12:00 AM1 Comments



Humor
Date Published: Nov 16, 2017

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

'Babe' meets 'Heart of Darkness.'
– Pig Breeders' News

Kevin Hunter, a crass Australian advertising exec turned renowned tribal art collector, travels to the wilds of the mythical island of Malaka with his personal biographer, to find the mysterious Gopi people, a reclusive tribe of brilliant artists and retired pygmy headhunters.

To achieve cut through with the native tribes, Kevin has taken to wearing bright pink safari suits, his first rule of advertising being 'Have a point of fuckin' difference!'

Having had little contact with Westerners, the Gopi elders are both impressed and envious of this wealthy, honey tongued philistine and they give Hunter creative control over their tribal art and artists. With unlimited power, Kevin Hunter, the frustrated creative, commercialises the Gopi's traditional art to make it 'more accessible,' thus sending the artists in a direction that threatens to destroy thousands of years of tribal culture.

Where Kevin Hunter is corrupted by power and control, the Gopi are naively led into a school of popular art. To market his 'new wave primitive' brand, Kevin finally realizes his ambition and takes the Gopi artists to New York City with disastrous consequences.


Review

What a fantastic read! From the very first pages Grahame Bond opens his readers to a story that is engaging and light-hearted and it never lets up. 


About the Author


Grahame Bond may be best known for creating the groundbreaking ABC comedy series Aunty Jack, but he has also written books, stage shows, musicals, and won awards for TV, as well as being named a member of the Order of Australia. In 1990, Grahame also opened his own advertising agency, winning many blue chip clients before selling up in 1996. In recent years Grahame has travelled to some remarkable places as an adventurer, including trekking in Nepal, canoeing in Kakadu, cycling from Hanoi to Saigon and digging up archaeological ruins in Jordan, Cyprus and Syria. He has also recently shot a documentary in Papua New Guinea. His extensive travel provided some of the inspiration for his first novel, The Great Pink Hunter, due to be published in 2017.


Contact Links


Purchase Links
RABT Book Tours & PR
Reading Time: