The Best Reader [Search results for space] 

This woman <---- is outstanding… but also cruel.; ) She caused me to have a huge reading slump because nothing I've read since reading her books Beyond and Two Suns have compared. *sigh*.

If you are looking for a book totally different, you have to check out this series. I read them in just a few days and now I can't wait till book 3 comes out!

Maureen was kind enough to stop by and tell us a little about the series and you can read an excerpt from Beyond.

1. BEYOND shows readers such a complex"world". How did you first get inspired to write this story?

When I was a little girl I watched all the 'space' shows, and I had a crush on every hero. I dreamed that one of them would come take me from my back yard, away on a wild adventure in space, and that we would fall madly in love. When this never actually occurred and I learned that I was stuck on Earth for the rest of my life, the 'dream' started to turn into a story.

2. What's the hardest part of working on a book where different planets have various elements (like time changes, atmospheres, creatures)?
Your imagination is your greatest asset or your greatest foe. The concept of"time" was tricky. I was more than willing to do the actual research and fly into space to see exactly how long five years would take, but NASA shut their space program down and Richard Branson said his Virgin Galactic plane was sold out for two years. So, I was left with my imagination.: ) One of my favorite creatures is the Sumpum. It has big squashy paws that sound like wet sponges slapping against a car when it walks. It was hard not to laugh at myself as I was writing this book. I'd say,"Come on, Maureen, seriously?" But it was so much fun.

3. For those who haven't read the book yet, can you share some characteristics about Aimee and Zak?

Aimee played the clarinet in marching band. She liked photography, vanilla-scented candles, and she had a copy of Engineering for Dummies on her desk. Maybe on Earth--in high school--those characteristics might have labeled her as a geek, or a loner. But when she is accidentally taken from this planet on board a spaceship that is bound for faraway galaxies, she is starting with a clean slate. No one knows her. Heck, vanilla-scented candles and engineering students might be considered awesome in a foreign world. Not that Aimee really cares what they think. In this new world, there is so much for her to learn, and that is what truly motivates her… a thirst for knowledge.

Zak, (sigh). Zak is a loner for a completely different reason. He is aboard the guardian ship, Horus, but he is not one of them. He was also picked up from another planet. He is a warrior, possessing amazing piloting skills in his craft, the terra angel. Combine his hero and orphan status and you get a man that people feel awkward to approach. Yes, they idolize him, but in doing so, they never actually get to know him.

Oh, and he's hot too.: )

4. This book isn't just about Aimee and Zak. There are so many outstanding characters. I know it's hard to pick, but who do you really love writing about the most?

Without a doubt, it would have to be JOH. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish he actually existed, because I sure could use him around the house. JOH is brilliant, and yet remarkably like an eager puppy. He sees life from a very literal perspective. For example, when Aimee says,"JOH, thank God I found you." He responds,"I know of 9022 gods. Which one should I thank?"

5. Can you share a teaser with us?

This is a scene where Aimee has stowed away on Zak's ship…

"Gayat!" Aimee didn't know what the word was, but it had to be one doozy of a curse from Zak’s native tongue.
"Who is back there?" The English translation kicked in.
She hesitated and then cleared her throat."It's Aimee."
There was another muttered curse, followed by a smack against one of the boards. The craft jumped under each of Zak's jerky motions. Aimee knew he was mad, but she refused to cower. She just wanted to go home.
A deeply drawn breath sounded and then he managed a composed voice."What are you doing on my ship?"
Yeah, he was not happy. The notion nearly made her smile.
"I didn't intend to stay on it," she defended."But I climbed in, and then the hatch closed, and then next thing I knew you were on board, and before I even had a chance to say, Zak, I'm here, whooosh, we were off into the cosmos. And then I thought—I thought that maybe I could convince you to fly this thing to Earth."
A heavy silence loomed from the front seat.
Aimee opened her mouth to add more, but snapped it shut when she heard him say,"Stop."
"Stop what?"
"Stop talking."
She opened her mouth again, but snapped it shut as Zak swiped his hand on the side panel and she tumbled onto her side.
"Dammit, you could give me some warning before you do that," she admonished.
"If you were an approved passenger you would be secured in place, and I would not have to give you any warning."
She hated it when people were right.
"I have to concentrate," Zak continued."We're in the approach to Bordran and it is a tricky one. In this atmosphere, I'm unable to rely on the TA's automatic landing references. I have to do this manually—and I need quiet."
Aimee held her tongue… for a second."Am I going to go flying through the windshield when you land this thing?"
"Possibly," he grated.
She thought she detected a grin in his response. It aggravated her because it was at her expense. She climbed up onto her knees and spread her hands out, laying her palms flat on each side of the craft for leverage. No longer concerned about being detected, she could now inch her chin up and look out the panoramic window. She gasped, startled to find that the green planet which had appeared so minuscule on the Horus, now dominated the right side of the craft and seemed only miles away.
"It looks peaceful enough." Oh my God, she was about to land on a foreign planet!
"What you are seeing is a thick cloud of gas. The planet is far beneath that ring, and the voyage through that vapor is not an easy one. So yes, you could quite possibly end up going through the windshield. Fortunately, the windshield is made of a composite strong enough to withstand tremendous air pressure, as well significant fluctuations in temperature." He hesitated while maneuvering the craft, and then added,"And catapulting young women."
"Is there anything I can do?" she cried, oblivious to his sarcasm.
"In front of you there should be a symbol that looks like a—"
"A circle with a line through it?"
"Yes. That one. Run your finger along the line, and back up a bit."
"Run my finger along the line and then back up?" she asked."Or back up and reach forward and run my finger along the line?"
The sigh was unmistakable from the front seat.
"Either. If something hits you, then move."

Beyond by Maureen A. Miller Published: October 2012 Paperback: 302 pages Series: Beyond series, #1 Summary:
It is the day after Aimee Patterson’s high school graduation. College beckons, as does her dream of becoming an engineer. On an early evening walk, her cocker spaniel charges into the woods on the other side of the pond. Aimee trails after him, and in the stillness of that forest the unthinkable happens. She becomes paralyzed and watches in horror as her hands vanish before her eyes.

Waking to the sound of voices, Aimee realizes that she has been kidnapped. Little does she know how far away from home she is, though. In an attempt to flee her captors, she launches from their confines only to freeze at the view outside the window. The sky is black and filled with stars, and in the distance is a familiar blue globe. The planet Earth.

A group of humans forced to flee their planet after an epidemic destroyed their civilization now travel the galaxies in search of an antidote. Retrieving samples of plant life from every solar system, on this occasion Aimee was accidentally seized instead.

Aimee must learn to avoid the advances of an awkward young scientist who seems intent on dissecting her, as her own fascination turns to the exotic young warrior, Zak. Having fallen in love with Zak, she is now torn with the decision to return to Earth or live beyond the stars.

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The Space Between by Kristie Cook
Published: April 5th, 2013
Reading Level: New Adult
eBook edition
Series: The Book of Phoenix, book #1
Rating: 5 of 5 stars
Summary:
When Life Falls to Pieces, Answers Lie in the Space Between

After a month-long dance tour through Italy, 20-year-old Leni Drago returns to Georgia to care for her great-uncle, only to find him gone, the home they shared empty and any evidence he ever existed wiped out. All that’s left is a journal she can’t open.

Jeric Winters has been searching for a piece of his past for over a year, only to reach a dead-end in Georgia. When an urgent and magnetic pull draws him out of his hotel room, he comes face-to-face with the beautiful dancer who’s been haunting his dreams day and night.

Jeric’s one to stay away from—a bad-boy, hit-it-and-quit-it type—but Leni can’t escape the fervent feelings between them. As their own existences begin to crumble around them and shadowy forms that are more monsters than men attack, they realize there’s more to the connection between them than physical fascination.

To solve the riddle their lives have become, they must embark on a journey that requires them to face their pasts and release their true souls. And they must do it fast—dark ones from another world are closing in, intent on killing them. Permanently.

Review:

Leni and Jeric were outstanding! I truly believed their chemistry and the pull they felt towards one another. There was no doubt that they were connected. But these characters were far from perfect. They both had their flaws which made their personalities much more believable. The circumstances surrounding their meeting was so complex but it truly kept me intrigued and wanting more.

I've honestly never read a story even close to this one, plot-wise. I had no idea where the story was going or what the characters would find out. They are able to delve into the past and see how it would alter their present, and future. Although a lot of this story does help us grasp that idea, there is no lack of action and adventure for the characters. I was scared for them on multiple occasions! Darn you Kristie for making my heart race like that: )

The entire idea behind this was so intense and … romantic. Another perk is that we get the chance to hear from several POVs. That was critical to this story because it allowed me to truly understand the past of each character.

If you are looking for a story with a unique plot and fantastic characters, pick this one up. I am thrilled Kristie ventured into the NA area and I cannot wait to read the next book in this series!

Prize:
1 winner will receive a $5 G ift Card to Amazon or B&N.

Rules:

• 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 International and ends May 6th.
• Once contacted, the winner will have 48 hours to respond.
• The form must be filled out to enter.

Kristie will be hosting a major giveaway on her site at the end of the tour for a $200 gift card or a swag bag full of goodies!
To enter, readers can head over to http://www.kristiecook.com/2013/04/the-space-between-release-tour.html and enter via Rafflecopter.
Rafflecopter form can be found HERE.

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The Liberator by Victoria Scott To be released September 3rd, 2013 Add to Goodreads Summary: The official book blurb will be revealed April 2013. In the meantime, here's a note from Author Victoria Scott:

Hey guys! While I can't reveal many details yet, I will say this book was enormously emotional to write. More action, new characters, higher stakes, and a whole lot of sexy. I hope you enjoy reading the next chapter of Dante Walker's story!

By the way, Dante wants me to tell you… "Things only get darker from here, doll. Might want to hold my hand for this."

Game. Set. Match. by Janenifer Iacopelli To be released May 1st, 2013 Add to Goodreads Summary:
Nestled along the coastline of North Carolina, the Outer Banks Tennis Academy is the best elite tennis training facility in the world. Head Coach, Dominic Kingston has assembled some of the finest talent in the sport. From the game's biggest stars to athletes scraping and clawing to achieve their dreams, OBX is full of ego, drama and romance. Only the strong survive in this pressure cooker of competition, on and off the court.

Penny Harrison, the biggest rising star in tennis, is determined to win the French Open and beat her rival, the world’s number one player, Zina Lutrova. There’s just one problem, the only person who’s ever been able to shake her laser-like focus is her new training partner. Alex Russell, tennis’s resident bad boy, is at OBX recovering from a knee injury suffered after he crashed his motorcycle (with an Aussie supermodel on the back). He's hoping to regain his former place at the top of men’s tennis and Penny’s heart, while he’s at it.

Tennis is all Jasmine Randazzo has ever known. Her parents have seven Grand Slam championships between them and she’s desperate to live up to their legacy. Her best friend is Teddy Harrison, Penny’s twin brother, and that’s all they’ve ever been, friends. Then one stupid, alcohol-laced kiss makes everything super awkward just as she as she starts prepping for the biggest junior tournament of the year, the Outer Banks Classic.

The Classic is what draws Indiana Gaffney out of the hole she crawled into after her mom’s death. Even though she’s new to OBX, a win at the Classic is definitely possible. She has a big serve and killer forehand, but the rest of her game isn’t quite up to scratch and it doesn’t help that Jasmine Randazzo and her little minions are stuck-up bitches or that Jack Harrison, Penny’s agent and oldest brother, is too hot for words, not to mention way too old for her.

Who will rise? Who will fall?

Told from rotating points of view, GAME. SET. MATCH., is a 'new adult' novel about three girls with one goal: to be the best tennis player in the world.

The Space Between by Kristie Cook To be published April 5th, 2013 Add to Goodreads Summary:
When Life Falls to Pieces, Answers Lie in the Space Between

After a month-long dance tour through Italy, 20-year-old Leni Drago returns to Georgia to care for her great-uncle, only to find him gone, the home they shared empty and any evidence he ever existed wiped out. All that’s left is a journal she can’t open.

Jeric Winters has been searching for a piece of his past for over a year, only to reach a dead-end in Georgia. When an urgent and magnetic pull draws him out of his hotel room, he comes face-to-face with the beautiful dancer who’s been haunting his dreams day and night.

Jeric’s one to stay away from—a bad-boy, hit-it-and-quit-it type—but Leni can’t escape the fervent feelings between them. As their own existences begin to crumble around them and shadowy forms that are more monsters than men attack, they realize there’s more to the connection between them than physical fascination.

To solve the riddle their lives have become, they must embark on a journey that requires them to face their pasts and release their true souls. And they must do it fast—dark ones from another world are closing in, intent on killing them. Permanently.

**Mature Content** Recommended for ages 17+ due to sexual situations and language.

The cover artist is Regina Wamba of Mae I Design (http://www.maeidesign.com/).

"The Cask of Amontillado" is by far one of my most favorite short stories — ever. In college we spent an entire forty minutes talking about the last few lines of the shorty story and several other class periods analyzing the story in general. When I discovered that I'd be teaching it this year I was so excited and basically counting down the days until our Short Story Unit.

Well, the time came and went and basically this is how it went.

Set during the Carnival before Lent (think Mardi Gras), "Cask" centers around two different characters: Montressor and Fortunato. Montressor, our narrator, has been wronged or insulted by Fortunato for many reasons that readers never find out. Montressor baits a drunken Fortunato, dressed in a jester's motley, by asking for his opinion on a particular sherry, or amontillado. Fortunato follows Montressor through the wine cellars of the palazzo where they wander in the catacombs (burial vaults underground).

When Montressor and Fortunato reach the end of the catacombs, Montressor tells Fortunato that the Amontillado is within the narrow space (think fire place). Fortunato enters the space and due to his intoxication does not resist as Monstressor chains him to the wall. Montressor, brick by brick, closes the niche with Fortunato inside — basically burrying him alive. With just a brick or two left to put in place, Fortunato laughs and tries to pretend that this is all a joke and that his wife will be missing him. Montressor mocks him by replying "Yes, for the love of God." Montressor listens for a reply and throws his burning torch through the gap in the niche but only hears the jester's bells ringing.

We spent most of the first day of class talking about Poe and the setting of "Cask." I described the catacombs, burial vaults, and the palazzo. We discussed what happens to decomposing bodies and all the "muck" that these two men would have had to walk through in order to get to the amontillado at the end. We discussed why they would keep their wine underground with their dead. We spent much of our time looking at pictures and discussing the setting in order for the students to realize that it's not just the theme and plot of this story that is dark — but the story in its entirety.

After reading the novel we discussed whether Fortunato deserved the punishment but we agreed that, because we don't know what he did exactly, that Montressor was probably crazy and over-reacted. This part of the class discussion was pretty generic — it wasn't until we discussed the ending that my students really started to get interested.

As I told my students:

The jingling of the bells. According to scholars, one of two things could have happened here.

Option A: Fortunato suffered a heart attack, stroke, or some other deadly reaction to being buried alive and died as Montressor placed the last brick. Thus when Montressor dropped the burning torch in the niche he may have hit the jester's hat causing the jingling of the bells. Fortunato's death made it impossible for him to beg for his life, attempt to bribe or (subsequently) threaten Montressor, or even cry out or scream. If one was being buried alive, wouldn't they have tried all of these things? Would they have given up so quickly after only one attempt?

Option B (my favorite): Fortunato was very much alive when Montressor threw the burning torch in the niche — the jingle of the bells was simply him moving out of the way of the fire, squeezing against the wall perhaps. His lack of effort (bribing, threatening, screaming, crying, etc) was due to the realization that if he were to do that he'd be giving Montressor exactly what he wanted. By refusing to react or acknowledge Monstressor, Fortunato was fundamentally robbing Montressor of his satisfaction of revenge. Fortunato simply decided to withhold from Montressor what Montressor really wanted — to hear Fortunato beg for his life, to hear Fortunato cry out.

Are you thinking yet? My students sure were.

What kind of will power would you have to succumb to the realization that you were going to probably starve to death or suffocate alone in the depths of your enemies catacombs and to die quietly? Wouldn't anyone cry, beg, threaten for their lives? Did he simply pass out (he was intoxicated after all)? What was the jingling of the bells!?!?! I could see my students' thinking the possibilities through until finally, in one class, a student raised their hand and said "Miss Remmers, so what happened? What's the right answer?"

"Well that's the point isn't it. I don't know," I said. "The only person who does know is Edgar Allan Poe."

"So there's no right answer?" The student asked.

"No! That's the great thing about literature folks. As long as you can back your answer up, you can't really be wrong (again, as long as you can back it up)."

"The Cask of Amontillado" was really my students' first experience with ambiguity. There isn't always an answer to literature. Somethings are left for the reader to decipher and analyze. Some of my more "type A" students were extremely perturbed by this and "needed" an answer. But for my more creative thinkers and, dare I say, rebellious students, this ambiguity gave them the freedom they were seeking in English class. The freedom to have an opinion, back it up, and not be counted "wrong."

Yes, I had fun teaching this short story but more importantly, as a result of "Cask," my student's realized that not everything is black and white and sometimes there just isn't going to be a "right answer."

Read "The Cask of Amontillado" online.

To the FTC, with love: Class Read

I've been thinking about blogging a lot lately, you know... rather than actually doing it.

I have some confessions to make. I've been a "bad" blogger the last couple months. I got frustrated with the lack of progress my blog had made in two years and I compromised my integrity to get higher numbers.

Yes. I did.

What exactly did I do to get the numbers I wanted? Are you prepared? It's pretty awful.

I hosted several contests where you had to be a GFC follower to enter. I participated in Giveaway Hops, again, where you had to follow in order to enter. I became obsessed with Follow Friday and the Book Blogger Hop — where you follow and comment for the purpose of numbers. Yes, I did find a few (I can think of three off the top of my head) bloggers who I've actually built a relationship with.

Now, this is not a slam on those memes, but the basic purpose (as far as I can tell) is to gain followers. And... I won't lie, my blog has grown exponentially. The thought behind these memes is to meet other bloggers etc and visit new blogs, but the truth is (for me) it was about numbers, about putting forth as little effort as possible (posting a simple response to a question) and watch my follower number increase.

As part of my confession, I want to illustrate just how much participating in these particular blogging extracurriculars boosted my "numbers"; I actively began participating in January. (Note: Blogger began keeping track of stats in the middle of June).

There's no doubt about it — if you want numbers it works. I thought I wanted numbers (and I still kind of do — I won't lie).

But the fact is, if I'm going to stress about blogging (never a good thing) I'd rather stress about my content than numbers. I'm being completely honest — I blog for me and my students, I blog because I love the community, I blog because I love books, I blog because I love blogging. But honestly, I just don't think it's as fun blogging if no one reads it. There will always be those people who say "I don't care about numbers" etc (and I mean no disrespect) but generally, it seems, like the people saying that HAVE the numbers and have the niche.

It'd be easy to lie. It'd be easy to say: "No, I don't care about numbers or followers or a larger readership. I don't care about my blog being successful. I blog for me and me alone." But I'm not going to do that. Yes, I blog for me and because I enjoy it, but I do care about the success of my blog. If I didn't, I would read books and form opinions and move on without a review. If I didn't care about the success of my blog I wouldn't have taken all the steps I have to market and promote my blog. I wouldn't be spending countless hours reading other blogs, commenting, tweeting, and working on the look of my own blog. I wouldn't be so engrossed in the social media of the book blogging community.

So, what do I do? I feel like I've lost my blogging integrity and I've lost focus. I don't want my blog to be about numbers. I don't want to post memes to "fill space" and "gain numbers."
In order to gain back a bit of my blogging integrity I vow to all of you faithful (and amazing) readers:

• Never to host a contest where you must be a follower. I want my online space to be content driven, not numbers driven.
• Instead of posting mindless, contentless meme posts in hopes of adding followers, to instead visit three other blogs a week and attempt to build a real content-based relationship with them. Rather than leaving a quick comment: "New follower here stopping by for the Hop/Follow Friday/etc"
• To never (or hardly ever) feel stressed or obligated to post

I apologize for the use of parentheses.

Edit: I forgot to mention this. Thank you to all of the "content-driven" readers that I have. Besides my love of students and books, you are the reason I keep blogging. You're the reason I love hearing that little Blackberry email chime on my phone when you comment. Thanks for all you do.

I solemnly swear I will post a review this week.:)

This week I'd like to welcome Dominique from Coffee Stained Pages as our Guest Reviewer.

******************************
From Amazon.com...

"When Ellie and her friends go camping, they have no idea they're leaving their old lives behind forever. Despite a less-than-tragic food shortage and a secret crush or two, everything goes as planned. But a week later, they return home to find their houses empty and their pets starving. Something has gone wrong--horribly wrong. Before long, they realize the country has been invaded, and the entire town has been captured--including their families and all their friends. Ellie and the other survivors face an impossible decision: They can flee for the mountains or surrender. Or they can fight."

John Marsden’s The Tomorrow Series is easily Australia’s most popular young adult series. The book definitely lived up to its hype and popularity; I polished it off in only two sittings.
Tomorrow, When the War Began is told from the point of view of Ellie, a sixteen-year-old “rural” from fictional country-town Wirrawee. She and her friends go bush for a few days, attempting to reach the practically inaccessible Hell, a remote valley. With great difficulty they climb The Devil’s Staircase leading to it and then squeeze through metres of rock in a small cave before finally arriving in Hell, which they find to be a beautiful, hidden sanctuary from the pressures of life. When they emerge and travel home they find their homes empty of their families, their pets dead and all power and electricity shut off. Australia has been invaded by an unnamed foreign power while they were gone and almost everyone in the town has been captured. During their short trip their lives changed forever and now Ellie and her friends must fight to maintain their freedom and plan how to survive as guerillas.
Tomorrow, When the War Began is different to the norm of the dystopic genre; it lacks the oppressive social structure and rules of a totalitarian regime, instead it features characters trying to resist capture by an invading force yet to fully establish itself. It’s still dystopic, but it focuses on that period where a power is taking over, a time traditionally only briefly recapped or left a mystery in most other novels of this genre (eg The Giver by Lois Lowry, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood and the list goes on).
The idea of a foreign nation becoming jealous of all the space at the disposal of Australians while their people are crammed together in slums, then deciding to invade it and colonise it, capturing Australians and intending for them later to become menial workers is an interesting one. A large percentage of Australians, mainly the middle to lower-income earners, have an irrational fear of Australia becoming overrun with refugees and immigrants. Regularly stories of asylum seekers entering our waters in rickety boats receive wide coverage and national debate, with the government maintaining a tough stance on the issue to keep voters happy. It’s very much an irrational fear considering “More than 1,600 boat people have arrived off Australia’s northwest coast this year, mainly people fleeing violence in Afghanistan and Sri Lanka. The numbers are small compared with the tens of thousands of asylum seekers sailing across the Mediterranean to Europe each year.” It’s even more of a ludicrous fear since “as of June 30 (2009), a total of 48,456 people had overstayed their visa” in Australia, mostly English tourists. In Tomorrow, When the War Began Marsden plays on this fear, while never identifying the invader, and apparently no country fits the description that evolves throughout the series.
Marsden’s writing is tense and maintains a sense of urgency throughout the novel, making for an engaging experience. He establishes its sense of place expertly, capturing the essence of small town Australian life and culture without hamming it up for the international readers, something that really irritates me about some novels set in Australia. According to the Author’s Note at the end of the book Hell is based on Terrible Hollow, in the Australian Alps. Nicola Outdoors has some great pictures of the area up on her site, for anyone who’s interested.
Tomorrow, When the War Began is full of action, from combat, to concealment, hunting and hiding to infighting and a bit of the romantic variety of action too. Marsden’s characters are brave and likeable, and with compassion he examines how the adolescents deal with the violence and the emotional turmoil of an invasion.
****************************** Dominique, thank you so much for this great review! It sounds like a one of a kind read!
Please visit Dominique at Coffee Stained Pages, share some book love, and read the original review.

BRIDAL BONES

(a juvenile ghost story by Linda Joy Singleton )

THE SCAVENGER BRIDE

Magician's Muse by Linda Joy Singleton Publisher: Flux (October 1st, 2010) Reading Level: Young Adult Series: The Seer, book #6 The Final Book in Linda Joy Singleton's Popular Paranormal Series, The Seer

A whisper, too soft to swirl wispy candle smoke, carried across time, beyond life and death—and was heard."Our bargain is sealed. My secrets will be yours-when the girl dies."

In the thrilling climax to The Seer series, Sabine's psychic abilities, sleuthing skills, and courage are pushed to a dangerous edge as she deals with the mysterious disappearance of her ex-boyfriend Josh, a new threat against her boyfriend Dominic, evil magicians (both living and dead)—and a coldblooded murder.

- Thank you so much Linda for allowing me to share your short story on my blog.
To find out more about Linda Joy Singleton Linda Joy Singleton / Blog / Goodreads / Twitter

Purchase Magician's Muse Amazon / Barnes & Noble / The Book Depository

*Reminder: If you are interested in the COMMENT CONTEST, remember to include your email address with your comment for an extra entry! Please read full entry rules here.

Since I am still hosting the "My Name is Will", "Dancing with Ana", and "Boy Toy" Giveaways... I've decided to make this super simple.

I see all these book bloggers with tons and tons of books sitting around — and there's nothing wrong with that. But that's just not me. When I'm done reading a book (or Momma Remmers) I don't like to have it sit around and take up space — I love passing along books (especially books I know that I'm not going to read again).

So if you read my review and you think you'd be interested in receiving "Sugar Time" all you have to do is email me at missremmeres [at] gmail [dot] com with your address AND a review of your favorite book for me to put up as a Guest Review. The first person to do this wins — simple as that. The review can be one that you've used at your own blog — simply copied and pasted. Or if you really want to be lazy (why work harder?) — a simple direct URL to the review you'd like to 'pass on' would suffice. Once I get an email, I'll comment on this post who will receive "Sugar Time".

Please, only US residents only.

Good luck!

UPDATE 8/21: The winner is Bianca from Wicked Good Books!

Night Hag A True Story By Daniel Waters

I have, in all seriousness and without hyperbole, had a life filled with paranormal activity. Some of the paranormal experiences I’ve had have been wonderful, some revelatory, some disconcerting, but the most terrifying one I’ve had occurred when I was almost exactly, to the day, half the age that I am right now.
My parents moved from the house I grew up in the year that I went away to college. I remember coming home on a break and helping them move; I remember sleeping on my mattress the last night in my old house, reading Stephen King’s It by the amber light of my table lamp in an otherwise empty room. Earlier this year, I moved my family from the house that my children have halfway grown up in, and I was reading Stephen King’s Under the Dome. I liked It more, but I like my new house better than all of the places that I’ve lived. These facts aren’t really germane to the event I’m about to relate, but they are the sort of coincidence that makes me feel that nothing in life is truly coincidental.
I mention this move because the house where I had my most horrifying paranormal experience was one that I never really considered to be my home. Maybe that fact is pertinent, maybe it isn’t. I lived there on school breaks, and although I had my own room there it always felt like someone else’s space, not mine. So I was very chagrinned and disappointed in the summer following my graduation, I moved back home, one of the classic Gen X boomerang kids. I was woefully unprepared for entering the real world, and the job market that I graduated into was one of the worst ever, especially for someone who majored in English, and whose only real ambition in live was to write novels. Not being able to find anything that matched my idea of a worthy career, I ended up taking two low paying but sort of intellectually stimulating jobs associated with fields I’d like to be in: bookseller and theater usher. Production and not Sales, at least I was still around the things I love.
My parents were wonderful to me, as they always have been, and didn’t seem to begrudge me my initial failure to launch. Although I was feeling a bit like a failure for not coming out of school with a string of publications under my belt, I was writing well (at least, if writing success was measured by quantity and not quality), and I was already making plans to marry the woman I loved. I was happy rather than bitter, so I have no idea why I had the horrific experience I did.
There’s a phenomenon called “Night Hag” or “Old Hag” that afflicted me for two days during the summer I returned home from school. You can Google the term for verification, but basically “Night Hag” is a form of sleep paralysis where a sleeper awakes but cannot move, and the sensation is akin to feeling as though a weight or many hands are pressing you down into your bend, rending you unable to move anything but your eyes. Picturing that alone is enough to make my flesh crawl, but when I recall the thing that visited me during my two day bout with Night Hag, the hair, what’s left of it, literally stands up on my head.
I awoke in my bed around eight o’clock in the morning on a very sunny day. I worked long, late hours at the theater so I liked to leave my window shades up and let the sun wake me, because if I kept the room darkened I’d easily sleep past noon. I opened my eyes, and I saw floating along the opposite wall a semi-spherical object that appeared to be composed of dark gray smoke floating along the wall. The smoke effect was heightened by the greasy grayish yellow contrail the thing left. I couldn’t move, but my eyes tracked its fluttering course around my room.
It turned towards me, and it had a face. Or teeth, at least. I remember teeth and a single eye in an ever-changing skull face, where the smoke hung and fell away like rapidly decaying skin.
I closed my eyes, and it disappeared.
But it was back the following morning, drifting around the room like a thick clot of resinous cigarette smoke. Again I couldn’t move. The previous day all I’d had to do was close my eyes and reopen them and it vanished; a few moments after its departure I was able to move again. So I tried the same strategy. It worked. It disappeared.
But I closed my eyes a second time, and upon reopening the hideous thing was hovering right above my navel. I looked at it and it seemed to pulse, the grayish smoke coalescing and then dissolving as I tried and failed to will my inert body to move.
Then it looked up at me.
I knew it had been watching me before, but this was the first time I actually made eye contact with the thing. Its one eye, a glassy black marble, undulated with a baleful, dead malevolence. I closed my eyes again. I was screaming inside but I couldn’t move a muscle. I fully intended to keep my eyes closed, but I had the sensation of tiny claws prying my eyelids open.
The thing had moved up my body and we were now nose-to-nose, although it didn’t have a nose, just a pair of ragged rents in its smoky, shifting face. It regarded me a moment, seeming to lean forward, and I could feel awful hot breath on my cheeks.
Then, in the space of a single heartbeat, it turned from me and sped towards the window, disappearing before it reached the glass.
I haven’t had a similar experience since.
Thank heavens.

Passing Strange by Daniel Waters Publisher: Hyperion Book CH (June 1st, 2010) Reading Level: Young Adult Hardcover: 386 pages Series: Generation Dead, book #3) Karen DeSonne always passed as a normal (if pale) teenager; with her friends, with her family, and at school. Passing cost her the love of her life. And now that Karen’s dead, she’s still passing—this time, as alive. Karen DeSonne just happens to be an extremely human-like zombie. Meanwhile, Karen’s dead friends have been fingered in a high-profile murder, causing a new round of antizombie regulations that have forced them into hiding. Karen soon learns that the “murder” that destroyed their non-life was a hoax, staged by Pete Martinsburg and his bioist zealots. Obtaining enough evidence to expose the fraud and prove her friends’ innocence means doing the unthinkable: becoming Pete’s girlfriend. Karen’s only hope is that the enemy never realizes who she really is—because the consequences would be worse than death.

Prize:

• 1 winner will receive a signed copy of Passing Strange.

• 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 9th.
• Once contacted the winner will have 48 hours to respond with their mailing address.
• The form must be filled out to enter.

- Thanks Daniel for the wonderful story and book donation!
Find Daniel Waters Daniel Waters / Generation Dead / Tommy's Blog

Purchase Passing Strange Amazon / Barnes & Noble / The Book Depository

* Check out Lisa's Haunted Halloween post.

*Reminder: If you are interested in the COMMENT CONTEST, remember to include your email address with your comment for an extra entry! Please read full entry rules here.

"'Across the Universe' was woven so intricately and beautifully that this plot driven novel is definitely on my 'OMG! I need the next book!' list." — Miss Remmers

From Amazon.com...

"Amy is a cryogenically frozen passenger aboard the vast spaceship Godspeed. She expects to wake up on a new planet, 300 years in the future. But fifty years before Godspeed's scheduled landing, Amy's cryo chamber is unplugged, and she is nearly killed. Now, Amy is caught inside an enclosed world where nothing makes sense. Godspeed's passengers have forfeited all control to Eldest, a tyrannical and frightening leader, and Elder, his rebellious and brilliant teenage heir. Amy desperately wants to trust Elder. But should she? All she knows is that she must race to unlock Godspeed's hidden secrets before whoever woke her tries to kill again."

"Across the Universe" begins a bit slow and confusing; I did struggle with grasping the concept of the plot at first. But once the exposition was laid out and the complication was introduced (Amy waking up), I couldn't put this book down. The plot became fast-paced with endless twists; the last couple of chapters... let me just say, I never saw THAT coming. Yes I had my predications, but nothing came even close.

Revis created this multi-dimensional and multi-faceted world with layers of character and plot that all came together in the end. Besides the metaphorical dimensions of character and plot, she created such a ship, Godspeed, that even without the map it was real and "touch-able" that I felt like I was the one exploring. I highly suggest checking out the official website to check out a 3D map of the ship.

Revis wrote with such raw emotion and feeling that throughout much of the book, when describing the Season, I couldn't help but be horrified for Amy. I can't imagine as an outsider seeing everyone going at it like bunnies without reservation or intelligence. The scene with Amy in the cornfield — I won't lie, I cried. As I read I saw everything that transpired and couldn't help but feel the emotion and shudder away from it.

I did struggle with the alternating perspectives. I feel like at the end of the novel, while I was extremely attached to the plot, I didn't know either of the characters particularly well. Their personalities became blurred due to the alternating chapters and a result I feel like I missed out on two great characters. Often times I would forget half way through a chapter whose perspective it was written in because neither of the characters, I thought, were very strong. Yes, I loved Elder and Amy — but do I feel like I know them as characters, as people? No.

Besides characterization, the only thing I would have liked to see more of was some romance. From Elder's POV I saw how much he was in love with Amy, but with Amy's POV she didn't even seem attracted to Elder. But this, I'm glad, will hopefully be explored more in the next book.

Overall, "Across the Universe" was woven so intricately and beautifully that this plot driven novel is definitely on my "OMG! I need the next book!" list.

I just gotta say: Harley (LOVE him) reminded me so much so of Hurley (LOST). Also, I came across this line — "I never thought about how important the sky was until I didn't have one" (125) and couldn't help but grab my copy of "To Kill a Mockingbird " and find my favorite quote: "Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing" (23).

Originality: 10/10
Ending: 10/10
Characters: 8/10
Plot: 10/10
My reaction/enjoyment: 9/10
Cover: 8/10
Overall: 55/60 A

To find out more about this author, visit the following links:
-Visit Beth around the web: Website | Blog | Twitter
-BUY THE BOOK: Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Nook | Kindle

To the FTC, with love: Library Loan

Patty Blount is here today to tell us what inspired Bailey Grant's love of video game design in her newest book, TMI.

What Inspired Bailey Grant’s Love of Video Game Design? By Patty Blount
When I was writing TMI, Megan’s character was sort of born fully developed. But Bailey’s character was too flat. All she wanted was a boyfriend. I had to keep writing scenes for her to see under all her fluff to discover what she really wants. And then I finally figured it out. Bailey wants to be loved, yes, but she really wants to find out who she is. Not knowing her dad and her efforts to find him were really to find herself. All her previous attempts to find love all failed because she didn’t yet know who she was. Was she a rock-climbing nature girl? Was she a stamp-collecting antique fan? A race-car driving adrenalin junkie? Bailey’s tried on a number of hobbies and none of them were a good fit until Simon introduced her to video games back in ninth grade.

Girls aren’t supposed to like video games. Some do, certainly. But Bailey really loves them. And for the first time, she gets a glimpse of the person she can be – maybe even the person she’s supposed to be. Bailey’s journey of self-discovery was really my journey as a writer – as her creator – to find out what made her tick. It began when my son demonstrated Assassin’s Creed for me. I’m not a video game fan myself (true fact: Xbox games give me motion sickness). But I do enjoy watching someone else play. AC has a rich back story, a detailed game space, and sympathetic characters. As my son played, he admitted he’d love to find a girl who loves AC as much as he does.

That got me thinking… wouldn’t Bailey be exactly the kind of girl to play Assassin’s Creed just to impress her latest boy? She would indeed. And for a girl who doesn’t quite know how she fits into the real world, sinking into a game world would definitely hold a lot of appeal.

But things in video worlds aren’t as easy as Bailey thinks. That’s why her game design is sort of a mash-up of all her favorite games… at first. It’s not until she meets Ryder that the game takes on a real shape of its own.

If I could design my own video game, it would have a haunted house theme. I love the TV show Supernatural and think it would be awesome to investigate hauntings, collecting protection points and weapons as you try to prove whether the level you’re on is really haunted or just a hoax.

Do you play video games? What are your favorites? What would your ideal game be like?

TMI by Patty Blount
Published: Sourcebooks Fire (August 6th, 2013)
Reading Level: Young Adult
Paperback: 336 pages
Summary:
Best friends don’t lie.
Best friends don’t ditch you for a guy.
Best friends don’t post your deepest, darkest secrets online.

Bailey’s falling head-over-high-heels for Ryder West, a mysterious gamer she met online. A guy she’s never met in person. Her best friend, Meg, doesn’t trust smooth-talking Ryder. He’s just a picture-less profile.

When Bailey starts blowing Meg off to spend more virtual quality time with her new crush, Meg decides it’s time to prove Ryder’s a phony.

But one stupid little secret posted online turns into a friendship-destroying feud to answer the question:

Who is Ryder West?

Site | Goodreads | Facebook | Twitter

Amazon | Barnes & Noble

It's official, I have become a book smuggler. If The Book Smugglers had a Book Smuggling Anonymous Association, I'd be admitted.

Last Friday I admitted to my roommate that I had been smuggling books into the apartment. I assured him that I wasn't spending money on the books, they were books I had gotten from the library's giveaway shelf. I confessed that each day I would take one of the several on my desk, bring it home, and slip it onto the book shelves.

Shock was the first emotion that flashed across his face, then it was a look that could have been directly translated into "Are you kidding me?" He then told me that I was doomed to be on the television show "Hoarders" and that when we moved out he wasn't going to help carry the boxes of books.

Then, he said it: "Reagan, you may have a problem." I immediately argued that it could be worse; I could be bringing in stray dogs or be addicted to alcohol or smoking. Yes, my "addiction" takes up space and will be a pain to move out, but... it's worth it right?

For about a millisecond, I was sincerely concerned if he was right or not. Do I have problem? I have been bringing in more books than I've been reading lately. Has book blogging skewed my idea of book ownership? In the beginning I was an avid user of my library, now I find myself making more and more trips to the used bookstore. Do I now view "an intense amount of books"-ownership as normal because all of my book blogging friends have the same "problem" that I do?

Who knows

I can tell you I don't see my book purchasing going down any time soon. I'm not going broke and my students are devouring everything I have. Is it so wrong to be addicted to reading, the written word, and books in general?

But, I do still feel a little guilty about "cluttering" the apartment...

It's Wedding Day (at least here on the blog)! Wedding day started out for me by waking up with my little brother's Pomeranian (MJ) sleeping on my pillow and my face hanging off the bed and my Golden Retriever (Pippin) sleeping in the space between the wall and the bed that I needed to walk through — both dogs could definitely tell something was up.

My two Matrons of Honor and I left for my hair appointment and then had to back track because we forgot the veil (whoops). Upon arriving I told my hair stylist that I wanted to do something other than what we had planned — nothing major, but instead of curls in a pony tail in the back, I wanted a simple bun. The idea of curls had really been driving me crazy because with the dress being as "flowy" as it was and the veil being more chic than Princess, I wanted a hair style that would bring together all of those different elements. And, if I don't say so myself, I think this hair style pulled that off completely.

My mom and I
After that a whole bunch of other exciting things happened (including me stabbing my eye with eyeliner and dropping to my knees asking God to stop the rain) but you don't want to hear all of that mundane information. After all of those minor details fixed themselves, I finally got to put on my dress.

My best friend Brandon "tied" me up and Anne pinned down my "hide away" straps (for the reception)

On goes the garter. You may remember this picture from last summer. But I thought it only fitting that Lyndsey get to be the one to put the garter on.

And before you know it I'm headed upstairs to see D for the first time.

And a few other random pictures...

Before the ceremony, to calm the nerves, of course I had a copy of "Pride and Prejudice"

We could hear the music upstairs but had to stay hidden so we took a minute to our selves and danced

At the dance they played "All That Jazz" — a song Puffer and I knew very well!

Best Friends!

Dan, my little brother, and I

The Reception Hall: Notice the lights and balloons!

The Cake!!

The throwing of the garter. Notice how hardcore those boys are!!

And, would you believe it, my BFF Button caught the bouquet!
At the end of the day I walked away with my best friend and my soul mate — what a ride! I can't wait to show you all the professional pictures that were taken from the wedding and of course pictures of our new house and (my favorite room) the small sitting room or, as I like to call it, my mini-library.
In the end, I can't believe everything came together. All that advice I was given about "everything will work out" was true! The day was absolutely perfect; I wouldn't change a single detail (except perhaps the eye liner in my eye).
If you're in the wedding mood and haven't already checked out Shanyn (Chick Loves Lit) , Michelle (Hooked to Books) , Beth (A Foodie Bibliophile in Wanderlust) , and Lorren 's (The Story Girl) beautiful Wedding Day photos — please click on their names! It's like a whole bunch of happiness on my blog right now!

Please read: The post you are about to read is 100 % **Role Play
All the characters represented here ( @The_Omega_ ) with the exception of Lisa and myself are **Role Players from a group on twitter. They have agreed to role play with us to help celebrate not only our Halloween Event, but also to help share our love for the Black Dagger Brotherhood series by author J.R. Ward, as these Role Players are also huge fans of J.R. Ward's works.
PLEASE BE AWARE THAT NO ONE with this site/blog, Lisa's site/blog nor the role-playing group — which you can find with the list of twitter accounts provided — is in any way, shape or form connected to or affiliated with J.R. Ward. No one present or represented here is J.R. Ward, nor is the role playing intended for any purpose other than the personal enjoyment of the Role Players involved.

The following story contains some strong language and mature themes. The Favor by @The_Omega_
What is that spiteful b**** up to now?” I reached over to one of my pets, a strange mixed breed, part dragon, part cockatrice, all malevolence and anger. There are a total of six in existence. I bred them especially for aggression and protection, not that I really needed protecting or anything. But they come in handy when I need to intimidate my lessers. Or others. As I ran my arm over his bumpy scales, I thought back to the day the Scribe Virgin came to ask me a favor. It seems one of her precious warriors needed to be taught a lesson. He was a strong bastard and she had nothing with which she could impress upon him the lessons she felt he was in sore need of learning. I knew it was a sharp blow to her pride to have to come to me for anything. She had always been favored, in everything, and was loathe to have to ask me for help of any kind. In this it was no different. She entered my domain with a gust behind her, carrying that cursed scent from her Fade with her. “ Could I possibly borrow one of your dragons? I wish to curse one of my warriors, to teach him how to control himself and as I can think of nothing more out of control than your creatures, one of them would work nicely to punish him,” she asked without a hint of humility. She was asking me a favor and didn’t even have the decency to bow before me. I just looked at her, not saying a word. I could tell she was becoming impatient as she began to explain very quickly. “Rhage is impulsive and quick tempered. He’s also very strong and could take out many of your army before they even realize he’s there. It would be in your best interest for this warrior to be tamed.” I was hesitant to trust anything she said. I’m probably the only one who knows her truly. When our Father made us, it was assumed that she got the light while I got the darkness. We are supposedly two halves of a whole — she the positive and I the negative. Quite inaccurate. Our Father was mostly darkness and while it’s true all I got was that, it is also true that my dear sibling, while getting mostly goodness, also got a hefty dose of evil to go with it. She had a wicked mean streak that even her favorite monsters couldn’t escape. I would have said no out of hand, but I thought this would be an excellent way to dispatch of the Brotherhood immediately. I decided I would allow her to take the meanest, most out of control dragon I had, fully expecting that it would eat every vampire in the Brotherhood and make the rest of my job easy. There was no way, I thought, the Brother could possibly wrangle this monster.

“ You may have my favorite pet, but I have some conditions that must be met,” I said to her after a very long silence. “This isn’t something I do without great trepidation, knowing how horrid you are.” She waved her hand, as if to dismiss my concerns about her motives. She was always so dismissive of me and it drove me insane. “ No, sister mine, I will not be brushed off,” I growled in an ominous tone only I can pull off. “If you won’t agree to my demands, you shall not be allowed the use of my pet.” As I began to outline my requirements, a small smile played on her face. No one could tell me that the Scribe Virgin wasn’t sadistic. She was in absolute agreement that she borrow the most aggressive dragon, the one who would take the most work to control. She was happy to curse her warrior for 200 years, which I demanded to ensure the beast would have ample time to do its job. The only stipulation she balked at was my presence at the insertion. She didn’t want me there and I couldn’t understand why. “ I can’t be seen with you,” she said, aghast at the thought. “You can’t come to my sanctuary. You can’t be anywhere near me in any place where people might see us.” I put aside the insult. She had long since ceased to hurt my feelings with her obvious disgust at my very existence. “ Sorry, no deal. If I can’t be there to witness my pet, my baby, being implanted in that disgusting brute of yours, then you can’t have him,” I said as I turned away, fully prepared to send her away empty handed. I knew that would get her. One thing my darling sister couldn’t stand was being denied a chance to hurt another soul, even if was one that she had created. She liked to hide in her white world, where everything looked pristine and pure. However, anyone who looked closely at her behaviors, the things she did, the things she required before being willing to grant any favor, they would have seen the cruelty in her acts. “ I will agree to whatever you ask, brother,” she practically spat the word at me. “As you have asked a price for this, you must make sure the monster you give me will be the most difficult trial a warrior could possibly have to endure. If you don’t, I will find a way to make up the difference, and that will be most unpleasant for you. Of that you can be sure. Oh, and I shall have to hide you with a mhis. I wasn’t being facetious when I said I couldn’t be seen with you.” So the deal was struck. Within the blink of an eye, we were in front of the warrior, who had his head bent awaiting his punishment. I noticed the dead owl lying by the tree and I knew this vampire was in for more pain and suffering than he could possibly survive. My sister loved her birds and there was no way she was going to let this pass without extracting her pound of flesh. The Brother was larger than a typical vampire, but he was nowhere near big enough to contain my beast without a great struggle, and getting him into the vampire wasn’t going to be anything short of torturous. He was shaking a bit, perhaps in fear. Or maybe it was remorse, as he did seem to genuinely feel bad for whatever act had ended in the death of the owl. If he was smart, he would have been terrified. Whatever he felt, he kept his head bowed in shame and awaited his punishment with bravery. My sister, in her flowing black robe, was standing in front of the male. She reached down and grabbed him by his long, blond hair, yanking his head back until it looked like it was going to wrench from his neck. Looking into his face, she roared at him, “You have taken one of my most precious possessions.” The male just gaped at her, his eyes wide with surprise at her indignation. Tears were rolling down his face now as he stammered out a weak apology. His whole body was wracked with sobs. He blubbered about how he didn’t mean to do harm, how he hadn’t thought of the repercussions of giving his weapon to someone untrained. The words were coming out of his mouth so fast I had to struggle to understand what he was saying. I guess the male wasn’t stupid after all. He was petrified. From out of her robe, the Scribe Virgin pulled a large dagger. It was bone handled and looked like something with which a human would disembowel large game. Still looking directly into the vampire’s eyes, she took the knife and stabbed him in the throat. It made a sound of a stone dropping into wet cement, a slurping noise that would have caused a mortal to vomit. The male’s eyes did the impossible. They became even wider than they had been, taking up so much of his face that it appeared eyes were all he had.
Pulling slowly, she dragged the blade down through his neck, his chest. The sickening sound of his sternum cracking was loud enough to startle the birds still left in the trees in this very twisted sanctuary. The strength she wielded to break through his rib bones one by one was impressive. My sister was watching the line of damage as she created it, her gaze not wavering from her bloody task for a moment. She didn’t stop until she had cut him all the way to his pubic bone. As intestines and entrails spilled out of the gaping hole my sister had gouged in this pathetic creature, she looked as if she was in ecstasy. Her head was tilted to the sky, the look on her face one of rapture. My sister had lost her mind in that moment. I was sure of it. The male looked as if he was screaming, though no sound was coming out. His eyes were wide but not seeing. His face was contorted in pain that most would be unable to live through, draining of color as the blood poured from the wound in his torso. There was so much blood, running in rivers down the hill, into the fountain, turning the water a deep hue of red that was terribly out of place in this sea of white. The vampire’s essence was leaving quickly as my sister was lost in her own private rampage. She actually seemed unaware of the harm she had done. As the warrior seemed to finally grasp the severity of the situation he was in, he resigned himself to the fate that would be conferred upon him. Any fight he may have had inside his large body left, just as the vital fluid was doing. Snapping out of whatever twisted reverie she was lost in, the Scribe Virgin captured my dragon by his barbed tail and set about the onerous task of forcing a very round peg into a very square and much smaller hole. Inch by inch, she pushed and shoved that 12 foot dragon into the opening she had created when she eviscerated the vampire. The sound of bones crunching was almost more than I could bear. Almost. The warrior’s face was a study in tortured agony. Sweat was pouring from his brow. His mouth was agape in a silent wail. His eyes were rolled back in his head, and still my sister continued her almost methodical invasion of the body she had laid open. When the dragon was finally well seated, crammed really, in the small space, she held her hand out, a light emanating from it, and she sealed the wound she had earlier created. She unceremoniously dropped her warrior, using that dangerous hand to clean up the mess she had made. The vampire curled into a ball then very violently splayed his body out, knowing that whatever was inside was too large for his shell to hold. Finally he found his voice and the silent screams became deafening shrieks and had my sister not covered her heinous act with a mhis that not only hid me from sight, but this entire gruesome scene, all of her innocent Chosen would have fled her presence in absolute terror. But the Scribe Virgin was nothing if not smart. She wasn’t going to let anyone see her madness. With another wave of her hand, she wiped the memory of what she had done from her creature’s mind and made sure the dragon was well ensconced inside his body, making them one. It was almost as if the male came awake, he startled and awareness returned to him. “ You will carry with you a curse, for two hundred years, to remind you of what you have done here. No more will you be able to think only of yourself, acting impulsively as only a young child should be wont to do,” she whispered into his face, so close to him it made even me shudder. “And you will be reminded every time you get even slightly out of control, because you will be visited by a beast so savage even those you love won’t be safe.” I left her garden impressed, and a little hopeful that perhaps she and I had come to some sort of understanding. Perhaps we would be able to work together in the future, not always be at odds. She had, after all, just brutally attacked the warrior race she claimed to love so much. Of course that isn’t what happened. Instead of being able to break free of its warrior prison and devour the Brotherhood, my sister enchanted the beast, protecting her vermin, and instead my dragon chose to eat my lessers. In the 99 or so years he’d been inside of that Brother, he hadn’t eaten a single one of the noxious rodents he should have preferred. That certainly should be a hint as to how slimy those freaks are, when even a dragon won’t eat one. My sister, the malicious Scribe Virgin, irritates me to no end. My life's mission has been to eradicate the disgusting species she created and she is seriously screwing that up. Everything she did is in direct opposition to me. Every single thing. And it is beginning to piss me off. She really is a spiteful b****.

If you would like to follow along with the Role Players that @The_Omega_ is part of, please USE GOOGLE to easily follow each character within the group. And trust me, you don't know what your missing! So hurry and follow today!

Find @The_Omega_ Online:

Twitter | Facebook

@FritzDoggen_BDB Online: (updates, notes and information on the Twitter Role Playing Group)

Website | Twitter

Order All 8 books in the Black Dagger Brotherhood series and Preorder book 9 Online here:

Amazon | Borders | Barnes and Noble | The Book Depository

Reference:

**Role Play

–verb (used with object)
1. to assume the attitudes, actions, and discourse of (another), esp. in a make-believe situation in an effort to understand a differing point of view or social interaction: Management trainees were given a chance to role-play labor negotiators.
2. to experiment with or experience (a situation or viewpoint) by playing a role: trainees role-playing management positions.
–verb (used without object)
3. to engage in role-playing.

Thank you so much to @The_Omega_ and all the other characters from the Black Dagger Brotherhood Twitter Role Play group for all the time and effort they have been putting in to help us celebrate not only Halloween and our event, but also our love for all that is the Brotherhood and J.R. Ward. * Check out Lisa's Haunted Halloween post with Sara Bennett Wealer and a giveaway for a signed copy of Rival.

*Reminder: If you are interested in the COMMENT CONTEST, remember to include your email address with your comment for an extra entry! Please read full entry rules here.

So when I made my "melting snowmen" cookies this weekend, I also attempted these Andes Mint Cookies (Pinterest Link) .

In comparison to the snowmen cookies, I thought these guys would be the easy ones. Boy, was I in for a surprise. Again, the original recipe calls for ingredients that I (mostly) had lying around in the pantry:

• 1 cup unsalted butter — softened
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 large egg
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 3 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 49 Andes Créme de Menthe Thins

While I am impressed with the golden browness of my cookie, the overall effect was that there was a little bit of mint in an otherwise bland cookie.
This was not as easy as it looks and took more time than the super cute Snowmen Cookies and even though these cookies are easy to transport — I'm going to have to call this one a Thanks, but No Thanks as a Final Verdict.
Also, Pinterest Update: Remember when I made that Christmas Card Wreath and I was undecided? I'm going to have to with BUST. It's not pretty by itself and it's completely chaotic with actual cards on it. I'm okay with a little chaos — but this is too much for me. There's also not enough space for all the cards I've received.

Yes, I'm still grading papers. Thanks for thinking of me.

Hey Readathoners! Look at you early birds coming in on the first Mini Challenge of the Dewey Readathon. You have probably been up and reading for while now and need a little mini challenge break to get the blood flowing again.

In this challenge we would like you to write a post on your blogs about your kick off strategy. What have you surrounded yourself with for these early hours of the challenge besides your books? Is there a coffee thermos, lucky book mark, snacks, pillow... We want to know how you have prepared so you do not have to leave your cozy reading space (by the way — we'd like to know what is too... (are you still in bed, a chair, the couch...)

Have fun with this — you can take pictures... add a video — whatever you want for your kick off post! I am excited to go and see what each of you come up with!:)

Write your post on your blog and then come back and link to your post here using McKLinky. This challenge is 3 hours long and after it ends at 11am, a winner will be chosen by using Random.org and they will be sent by email a $15 Amazon Gift Card.

Good Luck Readathon Readers!!!

Wow! The Spring Blog Carnival hosted by Candace’s Book Blog, Reading Angel, Pure Imagination, and The Book Swarm is almost at a close!

As I promised last week, today I am hosting the "It's a Bad World" Booth Challenge! We've all at least heard the somewhat annoying yet catchy "It's a Small World" tune that depicts the perfect world with everyone from all different races and backgrounds getting along famously well; where no matter the language, the tune and unity is still strong. In case you would like to walk down memory lane (or experience something all new) — here's a video of the "It's a Small World" ride.

However, lately it seems that life is not so "good." Yes, we've had the Royal Wedding, Osama has been found, and schools getting out (that last one is more for me than anyone else), but our world is still in turmoil. We aren't all singing together in unison and holding hands. We are partaking in polygamy and selling the prettiest girls off to the highest bidder in hopes of impregnating them, we are promoting teenage pregnancies by paying girls to "bump," and at the other of that spectrum we have society telling us that love is a disease and that any kind of emotion will make you crazy! We are sending people into space to fix our societal problems and as a result we have digressed into a social class hierarchy! It almost seems as if we are living in a Dystopian Society!!

dys·to·pi·a

1. Write a post explaining why you think Dystopian fiction is so addicting. Why is everyone reading it? What does it say about our society that we want to read about WORSE societies? Are there any implications dystopian fiction's popularity has on our own society? What say you!!
2. What is your favorite dystopian novel to date? Why did you like it? How does it stand apart from all the other countlessly recent dystopian novels? Why would you recommend it above all others in this genre?

Yes, this Challenge is therefore INTERNATIONAL.

Also, anyone have any guesses as to the four dystopian novels mentioned at the beginning of this post?

For the month of October, here at Confessions of a Bookaholic and over at my co-hosts blog — A Life Bound By Books, we will be hosting a Comment Contest! We love comments, authors love comments, and for each comment you leave on either of our blogs during our Haunted Halloween Event — will get you entries to win some great prizes!!

How does it work you ask? It’s pretty easy – just leave a comment (one comment per person, per post) with your email address and your entered! Comment on as many posts as you’d like. The more posts you comment on, the more entries you get.
Just remember, one comment per person per Haunted Halloween post and you must include your email address each time which lets us know you’d like an entry.

Prizes:

• 4 winners

- 4th Place — 2 books Gothic: Ten Original Dark Tales by Deborah Noyes, Gregory Maguire, Garth Nix, Celia Rees, Barry Yourgrau, Janni Lee Simner, Vivian Vande Velde, Joan Aiken, more… M.T. Anderson, Neil Gaiman, Caitlín R. Kiernan
The Sallie House Haunting by Debra Lyn Pickman

Entries:

• ONE comment per Haunted Halloween post on this blog and A Life Bound By Books counts.
• Comments count as extra entries into the giveaway for the prizes listed. One comment with email per post = 1 extra entry to win!
• No form required. As long as you leave your email and are eligible to win (are at least age 13 and have a US address) you can enter!

Rules:

• You must be at least 13 to enter.
• You MUST leave an email with each comment for it to be counted.
• Only one comment for each post will count.
• Comments can ONLY be for Haunted Halloween posts! No other comments will count!
• Copying and pasting comments WILL NOT be counted.
• Contest is US ONLY and ends October 31st.
• Once contacted the winners will have 48 hours to respond with their mailing address.

1st Place

2nd Place

3rd Place

4th Place

Contest starts NOW so start commenting! Remember to include your email with each comment!

Scary Pictures

I write for a living but I think in pictures. I’ve always been a visual learner. When I conceive of a story, I usually get a line or two accompanied by a whole slew of images. As I outline my books, I often build the pace around visual cues –and I block out my scenes as if they are on a big movie screen in my head. Readers and reviewers tell me that my novels play out like movies to them. I find that genuinely satisfying.

No doubt there’s a connection between my visual sense and my childhood. I’ve always wanted to write, but before I actually had a decent command of language I was telling stories using toys. After I discovered comic books, I began drawing my own. I was also addicted to TV and movies. I grew up in the sixties with shows like Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, Lost in Space, Dark Shadows, Outer Limits, Star Trek, and reruns of The Twilight Zone. I watched every movie they played on TV, from the sword-and-sandal Steve Reeve epics to old Universal monster flicks to John Wayne westerns. By the time I was nine I was bluffing my way into the movies to see films I should never have been allowed to see. Like Night of the Living Dead, which premiered when I was ten.

For a long time I thought that I would become an artist rather than a writer, and specifically a comic book artist. I wanted to be both Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. I wanted to be Denny O’Neil and Neal Adams. I have thick folders of old sketches. All sorts of stuff, from pictures of animals to character concepts to portraits. Some of it’s pretty good, a lot of it –sadly—isn’t.

The thing about my art is that it’s wildly inconsistent. I’ve done a few pieces that were good enough to have prints made. My Bruce Lee portrait, a study of a Crow, and my interpretation of Gandalf all sold out signed/numbered limited print runs of 500 each. Unfortunately my good days are like little islands in a sea of mediocre days.

That’s a hard thing –the point where you realize that you have a talent, but there just isn’t enough of it to open a doorway into a career.

Luckily, my first love was really storytelling, and I have made a very successful career as a novelist, short story writer, magazine feature writer and –yes—comic book writer. (But they don’t let me draw my own comics… and I can see their point).

I do enjoy drawing, though, and I wanted to share a few of the pieces I’ve done that I either really like, or that have interesting back-stories.

BRUCE LEE: This is the picture that is permanently set on Bruce Lee’s tombstone. I drew it right there, sitting cross-legged on the grass in Lakeview Cemetery in Seattle.

GANDALF THE GRAY: In eleventh grade I talked my AP English teacher into adding The Lord of the Rings to the official reading list. I had to make a real case for it, and somewhere I still have the paper I wrote. And I had to stand in front of the class and defend my choice. A number of years later I met an old friend for lunch who recalled that incident. Afterward I sat down and drew this.

CROW: A lot of people tell me that this looks more like a raven. We don’t have ravens in Philadelphia and I drew this while looking out the window at a bunch of crows. Maybe there was raven traveling incognito.

UNDEAD (for Ghost Road Blues): This is a concept sketch I did while plotting out my first novel, GHOST ROAD BLUES. I had an image in mind of a vampire pretending to be a scarecrow in order to play a very ugly prank on his victims. I think the visual quality of that novel helped it to become a success, and it won the Bram Stoker Award for Best First Novel and was a finalist for Novel of the Year. This is one of several drawings of this kind of monster. I may actual use this for a middle-grade novel in a year or so.

HUNTING FOR MONSTERS: This is another concept sketch, this time for BAD MOON RISING (third in the Pine Deep Trilogy, of which GHOST ROAD BLUES was the first. The middle book is DEAD MAN’S SONG). I had a scene set in a cellar and wanted to capture the spooky, claustrophobic feel of the scene. Even though the scene –as actually written—is a bit different, that scene started with this sketch.

AIRMEN OF LOTT: Another concept sketch. This one’s for a Steampunk story that I’ve had cooking in my head for a while. I’m developing a Young Adult story –or possibly a series—that’s a collision of alternate history, fantasy and Steampunk. It’s still in development, though.

Dead of Night by Jonathan Maberry
Publisher: St. Martin's Press (October 25th, 2011)
Reading Level: Young Adult
Hardcover: 320 pages
A prison doctor injects a condemned serial killer with a formula designed to keep his consciousness awake while his body rots in the grave. But all drugs have unforeseen side-effects. Before he could be buried, the killer wakes up. Hungry. Infected. Contagious. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang… but a bite.

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Book Trailer

Hosted by Sheila — Thank you!
Last week was probably my most productive in a long time! I finished "Crossed" by Ally Condie, "Silence" by Becca Fitzpatrick, and "Replication: The Jason Experiment" by Jill Williamson! I'm feeling on fire!:) This week I'd like to finished "Cinder" by Marissa Meyer and "The Night Circus" by Erin Morgenstern.

"Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth’s fate hinges on one girl... .

Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She’s a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister’s illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai’s, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world’s future."

"The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night.

But behind the scenes, a fierce competition is underway—a duel between two young magicians, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood expressly for this purpose by their mercurial instructors. Unbeknownst to them, this is a game in which only one can be left standing, and the circus is but the stage for a remarkable battle of imagination and will. Despite themselves, however, Celia and Marco tumble headfirst into love—a deep, magical love that makes the lights flicker and the room grow warm whenever they so much as brush hands.

True love or not, the game must play out, and the fates of everyone involved, from the cast of extraordinary circus per formers to the patrons, hang in the balance, suspended as precariously as the daring acrobats overhead. "