The Best Reader [Search results for Bullet] 

Today I am participating in the blog tour for Bullet by Jade C. Jamison. Check out the exclusive excerpt below!

Bullet by Jade C. Jamison
Release date: February 18th, 2013
Reading Level: New Adult
eBook: 451 pages
An Epic Rock Star Novel

What if you discover the man you want is toxic?

She tasted a little bit of heaven with him, and now they’ve gone through hell and back, but can their relationship take anymore?

Valerie Quinn is a naïve college freshman when she meets on-the-rise rock star Ethan Richards. He’s an idealistic, handsome, reckless young man, but he’s captured her heart. She doesn’t give up on him and eventually his walls crumble down. By the time Valerie has given herself to him completely, she discovers he’s damaged and may be beyond help. Can she save Ethan and their relationship before he implodes, or will he self-destruct and take her with him?

Excerpt from Bullet Jade C. Jamison
I let out the breath I’d been holding in as Ethan rolled onto the bed.

I just lay there, concentrating on my breathing, focusing on relaxing. He removed his condom and then rolled on his side to face me, so I rolled on my side as well. That felt like fresh hell, but I tried not to let it show on my face.

And the look on his face was rare and… beautiful. He looked happy, and that wasn’t a typical look for Ethan. He looked peaceful. He stroked my hair with his hand. “You okay?”

I nodded. The way he was looking at me made everything okay. I smiled at him, letting him know I was fine. “Yeah. Had to be done, right?”

He grinned. “No, not really. You could’ve decided to become a nun. They don’t have to do this, you know.”

I smiled again, sliding my arm under the pillow. “I think in the long run that’d be more painful.”

“How?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t want to tell him what I was thinking. But I knew now. I’d been experiencing some kind of awakening, and for all I knew, all girls went through it, but maybe I was a late bloomer. Whatever the case, there was a sexual creature inside me that had been trapped, and once she’d discovered there was an escape, she would have pushed to get out. I knew sex wouldn’t ever hurt like tonight again. I knew there was some sort of sensual nirvana waiting for me, some revelation I had yet to discover. Inside, I realized that. And to deny that to myself my entire life would have hurt far worse than the temporary pain I’d endured to pass into womanhood. And I wasn’t kidding myself either. I knew I’d be hurting all night long, but it would soon pass. I looked in Ethan’s green eyes, softer than I’d ever seen them before, and maybe that was due to the shitty lighting in the motel room, but he seemed open and vulnerable then. Part of me wanted to tell him all my thoughts, but I too felt too exposed. And after all we’d been through, another part of me felt like I couldn’t fully trust him. Oh, I wanted to. After all, I’d trusted him with one of the most sacred parts of myself that night. But I wasn’t ready to tell him of my growing self-awareness, of my awakening identity. I didn’t know that I wanted to tell anyone, because I didn’t fully understand it yet. My smile was shy. “I dunno. Could you imagine spending your whole life not having sex?”

He stroked my hair again. “Yeah, but my first time was nothing like that.” He got closer and kissed me on the forehead.

“I’m okay.”

He rested his hand on my neck. There was something in his eyes, but I just couldn’t read it. What the hell was he thinking? “I love you, Val.”

Oh. Oh, wow. Yeah, I loved him back, but for him to say it… and to say it first. Holy crap. Everything I’d ever heard about dysfunctional relationships (which I’d suspected we had) had made me believe I’d be the only one to ever say it, to ever really feel it. But there it was. He’d said it, and it took my breath away. I don’t know that I was able to smile because I was so overwhelmed. But I said it back. “I love you too, Ethan.” And then, seeing how his eyes lit up, I did smile.

He pulled me closer then, holding me in his arms, and after a while, I heard his breathing grow quiet but rhythmic. His chest rose and fell slowly at the same intervals, and I knew he’d gone to sleep. I shifted, but just a little, because every motion below my waist reminded me of the pain that was still with me. I wished he was still awake, because I wanted him, needed him. I wanted to talk to him, but then I realized I also just needed time for me.

I was overwhelmed with so many emotions, the first of which was my feelings of love for this man that had intensified. Before, yes, I had felt love for Ethan, but nothing like this. It was multiplied now and heavy, stretching into the deep caverns of my soul. I wasn’t sure how to process it.

And then I was also almost giddy that I had just made a passage. I was no longer a girl. Truly, I’d been moving to womanhood already. I’d been responsible for my own care for more than a year, what with living on my own at school, but somehow losing my virginity not only symbolized that process but affirmed it.

Lying there thinking about that, I then thought about my dad of all people. I was no longer daddy’s little girl. I was no longer his precious pearl, and he could no longer protect me from the world, from the beauty and wonder nor from the pain and torment. I wondered what he and my mom would think if they knew. I knew from the experiences over the past summer that they trusted me. Whether that was due to realizing that they had to let go and let me make my own mistakes or if they just thought I was a young woman of incredible self-restraint, I didn’t know.

There was no clock in that hotel room, so I had no idea how long I lay there. Ethan rolled over after a long while, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Between them and the pain, I lay awake until what I was sure was early morning… all by myself.

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Today I have the tremendously talented, GOAT (greatest of all time), superhero of writing (he made me say these things!), Jay Clark!

But seriously folks, Jay is probably one of the funniest people I've ever emailed to and he really knows how to perk up an interview. You'll want to read this one, I promise!

Sign up below for a chance to win an ARC!

Bookaholic:"Can you share with us a few words you would use to describe each main character in The Edumacation of Jay Baker?"

Jay: "Jay Baker: Snarky-but-lovable man-boy whose heart is usually in the right place at the wrong time.

Cameo Appearance Parnell: Beautiful disaster who’d rather keep things fresh-‘n-flirty than drab-‘n-Debbie-Downerish.

Caroline Richardson: Mysterious, super-focused tennis goddess whose past is about to play mind games with her.

Abby Baker: Frighteningly popular homecoming queen who’d take a bad outfit to the chest for her brother, Jay.

Ms. Lambert: Earth-motherly, heavy-meddling history teacher whose bark is bigger than her “Bite me.”

Mike Hibbard: Half-teen/half-barn-animal (?) with a surplus of “Bullying for Dummies” put-downs to mask self-esteem shortage."

Bookaholic:"How much of this book is based upon your own experiences?"

Jay : "I thieved quite a bit of the plot from my very own walk-in skeleton closet. A few guilty bystanders will have a bone to pick with me, but I’ll be sure to write them all an apology email from my computer in hell. P.S. This makes me seem like I’m too lazy to reinvent the literary wheel, and that would be accurate. Lately, however, I’ve been thinking of writing about a magical land where a bespectacled orphan becomes a wizard and … $%#!, that’s already been done, hasn’t it?"

Bookaholic: "Do you think hell has free wi-fi? And, could you provide an example of the individuals you may enrage or offend with your book (names can be changed to protect the guilty)."

Jay: "Hell hath no fury like me if it doesn’t! No, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say Sa-to-the-tan has kept up with the technological times. How else would #cometosatanbaby be trending on Twitter right now? Weird, my index finger just burned up in flames."

Well, okay: The character Rene Rotrovich’s nickname, “Rene Rottencrotch,” was inspired by an old friend who was called that particular surname all throughout school. Not that I ever said it myself, or even thought she had a rotten crotch (yet to be proven in court, I might add). I just thought it captured the vibe of my class to perfection and had to include it." *Ducks*

Bookaholic: Tell us 5 funny facts/events from your life.

Jay: "Dude, I tried out for American Idol. Twice. The first time I sang “Your Song” and Elton John called to ask for it back. The second time I sang “Flake” and very nearly made it my own. But then the bored-looking prelim judge asked me to sing something else, and I was like, “Huh?” I bombed that one like there was no tomorrow."

Bookaholic:"So apparently you do NOT work well under pressure huh? Go ahead, sing for us, right now!" *sits back in her chair, sipping on her Coke*.

(Photo: Close.but not Jay)

Jay: "I always accuse my sister of being a choker during board games and flip-cup and such, but maybe it’s been me all along. Nothing like a little healthy projection to give oneself a false sense of confidence. Anyway, sis and I do a great rendition of “Summer Nights,” from Grease. It gets kind of weird when I sing, “Well, she got friendly, down in the sa-ha-haaand,” and then bend my knees like John Travolta, but there’s something to be admired about that kind of commitment—just not sure what it is.

(Photo: Again, totally not Jay) I’m a longtime basement dweller who’s basically lived underground since graduating college. In other words, tornadoes haven’t stood a chance since ’05 (booyah). Besides, who needs fresh air when you have Glade PlugIns and a decent supply of snacks?"
Bookaholic:"That depends. What sort of snacks? Are we talking chocolate?"

Jay: "Chocolate schmocolate. I discovered this great vanilla yogurt/raspberry sorbet combo made by Haagen-Dazs (had to look up that spelling and didn’t feel like adding the accent mark) a few months ago and have been killing pint after pint ever since. It’s annoying when I have to go upstairs to get it from the freezer, though. I need a little ice box or something. And an unlikely endorsement deal, because that crap’s expensive!"

Barf alert: I was born with simple syndactyly of the second and third toes, on both feet. I had a complex about it—cue: groans—until seventh grade, when a podiatrist took a scalpel and… why am I talking about this? My fiancé tries to touch the scars sometimes, which I am not a fan of. She’s welcome to go to town on my corpse, though."

Bookaholic: EEK *runs away hiding eyes* I am not a foot fan.

Jay: "Everyone’s a critic!

I come from a family of gamblers. None of us know when to hold ’em, fold ’em, or walk away, but we have a blast in Vegas every year—not to mention our drinks are totally free!"

Bookaholic: *slowly re-enters the room*"Okay okay, so are you any good when you gamble? Or, do you end up broke on the street begging for change?"

Jay: "Lady luck and I have our intimate moments, for sure. She can also be a real wildebeest—especially when her hormones kick in and start blanking out the slot machine. Not that I don’t deserve it."

I have a drinking problem that starts and ends with Mountain Dew. I’m intentionally trying to lower my sperm count, because I hate children.

Bookaholic: Yumm, Mountain Dew is my favorite pop! But seriously, you hate children? How is that possible? Don’t you want a little mini-you someday?

Jay: "When you put it that way, how can I resist?! I do think kids would help round me out and make me less inclined to worry about dumb crap, but the fact that I just typed “me” twice is a bad sign."

(Photo: Jay's future child) Bookaholic:"If you were a superhero, what superpower would you have?"

Jay: "Introducing Paranoia Man! Paranoia Man is all anxiety, all the time, and one-hundred-percent evil. In fact, his sole purpose on Planet Earth is to transfer his nervous energy to the far-more-rational beings who walk among him. Beware the plethora of panic attacks at his disposal, and no matter what he says, don’t accept anything from his prescription bottle. Otherwise, you may find yourself asking the following questions to no one in particular:

Why hasn’t this person responded to my email yet?!
Is my dog mad at me, or what?!
Wow, the Starbucks barista is being hella-weird today, am I right?!"

Bookaholic:"Haha, that’s funny. But why are you staring at me like that? Do I have something on my shirt? OMG, you think I’m a horrible interviewer, don’t you??"

Jay: "It’s working! I’m feeling calmer already."

Bookaholic:"What are some of the major differences between the writer Jay, and the character Jay?"

Jay: "They laugh alike, they talk alike, sometimes they even have IBS alike. Differences? As much as it pains my fragile male ego to admit, I think Jay Baker has more of a way with the ladies than Jay Clark. He’s a baller in sheep’s clothing. I mean, Jay Clark is obviously better-looking, but in high school he couldn’t get the pole out of his b-hole long enough to let his freak-flag fly. Jay Baker is more of a come-what-whatever risk-taker, and that’s why he has his own book while Jay Clark remains chopped liver."
(Photo: Could be Jay. I'll have to ask.)
Bookaholic:"Okay, here is a test. I want you to tell us some pick-up lines. Tell us one YOU would have used during your pick-up-line days (before you got old and settled down)… and then one from the character Jay (the youthful risk-taker).

Jay Clark: “Hey… you. Wanna come over to my house after school so I can make you some toast with my grandma’s strawberry jam on it?” (This actually happened and, shocker, was not followed by a hookup session.)

Jay Baker: “You have a thing for my man-bangs, don’t you?” *Points to hair* “’Cause there’s a lot more where that came from.”

Bookaholic:"I'm even more shocked that you have a fianc é! Now, tell us 3 things you wish you could go back to high school and do?"

Jay: "I say this without an ounce of sarcasm: Seek out my future fiancé, Caroline. I started shedding a lot of my unnecessary habits when I found her. Good stuff.
Spend even more time with my family. It’s a shame the measures people take to avoid their relatives, but maybe I’d feel differently if I had <insert your psycho-sibling here> snipping off locks of my hair in the middle of the night.

Tie myself to a tree until they build some freaking tennis courts on school grounds. That’s kind of an oxymoronic way of going about it, but the tree and I will cross that bridge when we come to it—unless we need to actually build a small bridge to the tennis courts, in which case I’ll turn to the tree and say, “Nice knowing you, sucker!”

Bookaholic:"You were wilder in college, right? Did you do anything insane then?"

Jay: "Not really… I’ve pretty much always been a snoozefest."

Bookaholic: *Yawns*"Since you are just a sweet, innocent, unaware-of-all-the-bad debut author, what scares you the most about the writing world? Be honest, are you most afraid of us angelic bloggers?" *whips out her halo*

Jay: "People on the internet are terrifying, yes. Especially bloggers hiding their true identities behind wide-eyed avatars or extreme close-up pics of their cat/dog (maybe I should double-check your website before mentioning that). But, really, it’s hard for me to complain. If someone’s taken the time to read my book, then they can say “He blew it!” all over the internets till the cows come home. Then they can go blow a cow, for all I care. Kidding! I blame this horrible answer on your question."

Bookaholic:"HEY, my avatar is offended by your comment. She does not have wide eyes! Okay… maybe she does."
Thank you Jay for being on my blog and for sharing such fascinating details of your crazy life. You are so much fun (I know, I can't believe I said that either!)."

The Edumacation of Jay Baker by Jay Clark
Publisher: Henry Holt & Co. (January 24th, 2011)
Reading Level: Young Adult
Hardback: 272 pages
A few “sexy” bullet points about Jay: • He is in love with a cheerleader named Cameo “Appearance” Parnell • He is forever losing “Love-15” to tennis-playing goddess Caroline Richardson • He rocks a touché array of pop-culture references, jokes, and puns • His family-life cookie is about to crumble. Live vicariously through Jay as he faces off against his mortal enemy, gets awkward around his dream girl(s), loses his marbles in a Bermudian love triangle, watches his parents’ relationship implode, and, finally, learns to get real and be himself(ish).

Prize:

• 1 winner will receive an ARC of The Edumacation of Jay Baker.

• You must be at least 13 to enter.
• Name and email must be provided.
• Extra entries are possible and links must be provided.
• Contest is US only and ends February 10th.
• Once contacted, the winner will have 48 hours to respond.
• The form must be filled out to enter.

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I feel like sometimes all my weekend posts are memes. I don't have a problem with memes, I don't want it to consume my blog with 3/6 posts I do a week (rough estimate). So, with a new year of blogging resolutions, I'm going to try something different: smash In My Mailbox, Sunday Salon, and It's Monday into one post. Let's see how it goes.

Hosted by The Story Siren. If you want to find out more about it in my blog. Anyway, these are books I got this week at the bookstore, library, and in the mail, of course. So far, I've held true to my word and haven't purchased a book this week! I've read three so far (so that's another three off my shelves). I did go to the library (dangerous deal) to return the keys to the computer lab, and accidentally walked out with three books. For Review: Won: From the library:

• "Inside Out"
• "The Twin's Daughter"
• "White Cat"
• "Definitely Dead" (Audio)

I won't lie, I'm pretty proud of myself this week. As I stated earlier, I've stayed focused and haven't purchased a book (although my trip to the library did put me back a bit). I've also been reading a lot, but it's easier now that D reads with me. I finished four books this week — "Delirium, " "Wake," and "Change of Heart." I've contacted two authors about author interviews and I've been diligent about my Google Reader and commenting on as many posts as possible — my new goal is for any post about a book I've heard of, read, or want to read = COMMENT! It's been working really well so far. I've found that it's not so impossible to stay on top of my Google Reader as long as I don't let it get so large. I've been checking it when I wake up 5:30 am, during my lunch break, after school, and before bed. It sounds like a lot, but it's only ever for fifteen or so minutes at a time. I'm really proud of my blogging attitude this week! I feel like I've done everything I can to be supportive to others and an active member of this awesome community. I know not every week will be like this one, but I feel like this New Year is off to the right start.

In my classroom I've "bitten the bullet" and loaned two of my "be careful, it's signed" books to students: "Knightley Academy" and "Delirium." I know, I know — I can't believe it either. I gave both of the students the lecture: "This book is signed. I know the author. It's important to me. Please don't break the spine, dog-ear the pages, wipe your buggers on the pages, etc." For "Delirium" it was a bit more involved: "This book isn't even out yet. It's signed to me. It's my favorite book. Please... treat it well."

I don't normally have a problem with my students using my books, but it seems like three students later and the books are in super bad shape! Again, this doesn't normally bother me (even with signed copies of "Shade" and "The Dark Divine"), but "Delirium" was one of those books I hate out my hands. When the book is released (in 23 days), I'll buy a copy to put in my room. This one is special! It's signed to me — most times I have authors write "To Miss Remmers' Class" or the "BVHS students." It means a lot to me and I wouldn't have loaned it out if this student wasn't extremely trustworthy, but it is still hard. When to loan and when not to loan books? Most of the times I justify loaning (even signed) books by saying "what good are they doing on my shelves?" But again, sometimes I struggle giving up a book.

Hosted by Sheila — Thank you!

This week I finished "Delirium," "Wake," and "Change of Heart," — which means that I did what I said I was going to do! Seems like forever since I've been so productive!

Review Books: "When the Stars Go Blue"

My Books/Recreational Read: "How to Say Goodbye in Robot" and "Inside Out"

Class Books: "The Odyssey"

Scary Debra
by
Debra Anastasia

I think ghosts have given up on me. Scary things too. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve seen a fair number of horrifying things. I shop in Wal-Mart on Saturdays. I think I may be too stupid to scare.

Okay, I’m actually here today because I have a crush on Jessica. Isn’t she adorable? I picture her walking around in real life but as her AV. The voluptuous cartoon on her header up there? I picture her walking into Starbucks all animated like Roger Rabbit in our boring world.

Anyway, none of that’s scary. And I’m here to talk about scary. What are you afraid of? Spiders, vampires? Ghosts? I’m here to give you a new bone-chilling fear.

Me.

That’s right. This blonde-headed, minivan-driving nimrod is the scariest thing to hit the planet. I’m a freaking nightmare. The fact that anyone ever lets me interact with the world is a statement to how little we control in this life.

I know what you’re thinking, she’s not scarier than a zombie. Oh yes, yes I am. Here’s a good example of how I torture unsuspecting people:

Our porch is being built by a nice, sweet builder guy. Well, yesterday I cranked a few windows open and proceeded to sift through our nonsense. (Long story longer: Our house was demolished by a huge oak one year ago, we’re moving into the rebuild now. Hence I‘m sifting through things that were salvaged by other people from my buckling old house, this includes years worth of paperwork I had ignored.) I came upon my colonoscopy results from about ten years ago. To joke with my long-suffering husband I called out, “Hey! Do you wanna see the inside of my colon?”

He looked at me with his handsome face and his gaze slide just over my right shoulder. His eyes grew wide and he shook his head.

I get a sinking feeling. That’s right, I shouted this with my builder guy standing just behind me with the window open. Actually, he was physically closer to me than the man I was trying to torment.

What do you say to fix that? I mean, really? I slid down in my chair into a puddle on the floor. I still blush thinking about it.

Scary. Right?

If that was the only story I had we could all have a nice chuckle and move on. But no, that’s one of hundreds. I’ve plodded through this life with no sense and no filter for over 38 years. I’ve procreated. Now granted, the son takes after the husband (lucky you) but the daughter? She’s a carbon copy. Actually she might be worse. So proud of those kids.

Anyway, back to scary. If seeing the inside of my colon doesn’t give you night terrors, I’ve got more where that came from. A few years back a poor, unfortunate soul sat next to me at a soccer game. She decided to make small talk. With me. You can already tell how this encounter was circling the drain, right?

The lady began telling me about a fancy restaurant she used to work in. She went on and on claiming it was super fancy, leave-the-kids-home-and-get-dressed-up kind of fancy. I nodded and tried to make some noise out of my mouth to show that I was paying attention.

I said,"So it’s real Ritsy Titsy?"

My brain had stalled. I couldn’t believe I’d just made up a word like “Titsy” and tried to pass it off in an adult conversation. So of course this has sent me into a fit of inappropriate giggles that --to my horror—became an all-out crying laughter, while slapping my knees and fart heckling. I could hardly breathe at my own embarrassment. For Pete's sakes. It's bad enough I’d said it. No need for the spectacle of me dissolving in to hysterics.

The poor lady just waited me out with a polite smile.

I’m not sure what’s worse, that I say the wrong thing at the wrong time or that I find my own embarrassment so damn funny.

How about we end today with this bone chiller:

I was cashing a check at the bank. Well, we have two banks. One’s not fancy. One is fancy. I was at the ritzy titsy one. It has high, luxurious ceilings. The tellers are separated from the customers by a thick, bulletproof plastic. Well, I’m assuming it’s bullet proof. It has air holes for the tellers. So this combination of things always makes me talk louder. I can’t help it. I feel that the barrier between us can only be over come by my outdoor voice.

It was a crowded line, full of rushing holiday shoppers who were ready to lubricate their wallets with some cash. I stepped up to the teller that was waiting for me. She smiled. And then she started chit-chatting about the holidays.

She was what I call a soft-to-softer talker. Well, she’s the first one I’ve met, but if I meet another, that’s what I’ll call them.

She started out soft volume speaking, and when she would get to the real point of her sentence her volume would drop off.

Until she was, as much as I can tell, just moving her lips.

I can’t read lips. Let’s be honest, most of us are amazed I can read at all. So I did what any blonde would do --I overcompensated. I also tried to emulate the behavior I wanted her to copy. Hence me cheerleading scream answers.

Me: “YES, I’M GOING SHOPPING!!!”

Soft talk teller: ”Are you going to Target? ”

Me: ”YES!”

Soft talker: ”I got mumble mumble for $5.00 at Target mumble mumble.”

Now, I love Target. I love a good sale there. As a matter a fact, I watch the Christmas markdowns like a highly skilled guerilla surveillance team member.

So I don’t care what she got for $5.00. If it was on sale, I wanted it.

Now, maybe I can blame my exhaustion. Or my own inability to be social through a wall of plastic but I said in my loudest voice;

Me: ”MAYBE I’LL POOP IN THERE LATER!!”

Oh my dog. Did I just scream, “poop?” The Bank was as silent as a smoke detector without batteries that might have gotten disemboweled by an angry mother witnessing her kids heading to the dinning room table after it went off.

I realize I can’t fix my faux pas without making it worse.

I had to just leave the poop out there. I’d just told a complete stranger and a line full of people in a really loud voice where I *might * be planning on having a bowel movement in the future instead of what I had intended. (Me: “Maybe I'll POP in there later!")

So what do I do? Do I pretend like it wasn’t said? (Which I’m sure was soft talker's dire wish!)

Oh no, that would be too simple. I start to laugh. I start cry-laughing at my own self. I laugh all the way out of the bank. Like an idiot.

So, I think in this month of scary, zombie babies hanging from swings in people’s yards (Holy crap! What’s up with those horror movie quality decorations in the strip malls?) we need to remember that I, Debra Anastasia, am the scariest thing ever. Well, except for spiders, hands (they look like spiders), mannequins (they have hands that look like spiders), and not having your foot under the blankets at night.

Boo!

Author Bio: Debra Anastasia is busy, just like every other mom. There’s dinner, the dogs, the kids, and their homework. The laundry pile turns into a big, heaping monster. When the clothes finally make it into the washer, it gets unbalanced and puts on an elaborate show before it cuts out. This crazy job that never ends is her first love and her crowning achievement.

Her writing started a decent handful of years ago when along with the dogs, cat, kids, and husband, the voices of characters started whispering stories in Debra’s ear. Insomnia was the gateway for the plots that wouldn’t give up, wouldn’t let go. In the shower, a twist would take hold and–dripping and frenzied–she’d find somewhere, anywhere to write it down.

Debra grew up in New York and got a bachelor’s degree in political science at SUNY New Paltz. At the start of her marriage, she moved to southern Maryland with her husband. She still doesn’t trust crabs and all their legs, though everyone else in her family thinks they’re delicious. Her favorite hobbies include knitting, painting furniture and wall murals, and slapping clowns.

Bittersweet Seraphim, the sequel to her debut novel, Crushed Seraphim will be released Nov. 20th, 2012 and she’s currently working on Return to Poughkeepsie, the sequel to Poughkeepsie. You can visit her website at DebraAnastasia.com and find her on twitter @Debra_Anastasia.

Crushed Seraphim by Debra Anastasia
Published: Omnific Publishing (May 27th, 2011)
Reading Level: 17+
Paperback: 194 pages
How does a foul-mouthed angel end up as the last hope for all of Heaven and Earth?

When Seraph Emma is maimed and tossed from Heaven by a rogue angel who's taken charge, she fears she'll never be allowed to return. Tasked with the impossible job of showing the self-loathing (and not even human!) Jason his worth, Emma is sure she's doomed to fail.

Meanwhile, having wormed his way into Heaven, the corrupt Everett has trapped God in Hell and has designs on unleashing evil everywhere. Fortunately, if there's one thing Emma can't do (in addition to minding her language), it's give up. Determined to save Jason and get back to Heaven-even if it means going to Hell-Emma's plan is simple yet impossible: trick the Devil to save God.

What she doesn't count on is the devotion and, well, humanity she finds in Jason; the spirit, hidden compassion, and raw sex appeal within the Devil; and the vulnerability of her own heart. With the help of two unlikely allies, she'll wage the battle for Heaven. But will Emma be sidetracked by a new sort of heaven along the way?

What's truly more dangerous?

Falling from Heaven, or falling in love?

Prize:

• 1 winner will receive everything above! Books, cards, tattoos and the cutest bracelets EVER!

• You must be at least 13 to enter.
• Name and email must be provided and counts as 1 entry.
• Extra entries are possible and links must be provided.
• Contest is US Only and ends November 1st.
• Once contacted, the winner will have 48 hours to respond.
• The form must be filled out to enter.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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