Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Writer's Show or Tell-The great debate

Show or Tell your story? I was always one that believed telling the story was the best way to get your story across and most of my books show that. On LinkedIn there were several experts ( I use that term loosely) saying you should show your reader the story. It is more of an effective  way to write. So I decided to do an experiment and re-write one of my older books in the show mode instead of telling.  The first thing I noticed was the number of pages jumped up and the chapters were longer, so I created more chapters.  I am nearing the completion of that re-write, still to have it edited but feel they may be right, showing is better than telling.  We will see if the readers agree when it comes out later this year. I have renamed it "Dangerous Rescue" and will find out how it is accepted or if it gets rejected. Only time will show which the reader prefers. Another little problem I encountered was it is harder to show than to tell. Have you had any problem along these lines? 

Talk back, I'm listening.  

Friday, March 27, 2015

Character Interview

Welcome Brad to my blog. I have a few questions for you.

Before the nuclear missiles changed everything, how did you feel about your life?
Brad looked a little uneasy as he spoke. I feel I had a normal middle class family but because of my son Brian, it was starting to become dysfunctional tearing  our happy home apart.
In what way?
His changing from a normal, loving and caring son that played a lot of video games and had nice friends to have rowdy friends, refusing to join in any family activities along with getting in fights and other trouble in school was tearing our marriage and home apart.
Was that what led to you going into Michele's arms?
He gave a resounding."No!" Then clarified things. "When the missile hit, I took Michele down to the place I thought I could survive the nuclear blast in.  In time, she made the first moves. I was reluctant to become her lover but not knowing if I still had anyone on the outside, in my weakness I allowed it to continue." He paused thinking in retrospect. "The first time I actually told her that I loved her was by accident."  He paused again reflecting the circumstances. "When we were leaving our survival shelter, I glanced at her wearing Vicki's coat and saw Vicki's face, not hers and then uttered those three words. Once, I said them, I couldn't very well retract them."
What were you thinking taking Michele to where you thought your wife Vicki would be?  "Once we left the shelter, I couldn't very well tell her she was on her own. She couldn't survive out there on her own." He hesitated adding, "After she killed to save my life while I was fighting off a dog that tried to rip my throat out. 'She killed the owner to save my life, going against all her principles'  I felt she deserved to live..."
What were you planning on telling Vicki if she had been at the shelter called the "Tomb"?
"My thoughts the closer we got to the Tomb was to throw myself at her feet and beg for forgiveness. I  knew she would automatically know we had been lovers. a man trapped with an attractive female, she would draw no other conclusion so I would ask her to take me and restore our relationship."
What would you have done with Michele if she said yes? He laughed. "I'm glad it never came to that. Most likely whatever she wanted. If she sent Michele packing. I would have supported that."
Sounds kind of heartless to me. "It is but if Vicki took me and said Michele had to go, I would have. Even though I cared for Michele, my love for Vicki was stronger than any feelings for Michele.
Why didn't you make your son, Brian go with you when you left the Tomb and why did you leave it so soon after arriving?
"The reception upon arriving in the Tomb gave me an indication of the mindset of those running the Tomb. My son, acted like I didn't exist and was not happy to see me. Knowing how things were outside, he acted like an adult so I let him make his own decisions. His hateful attitude and aligning himself with Jack, the whore monger, thinking females were less than human bothered me. I think they might have succeeded if they had partnered with the girls instead of trying to make them property with no say on anything. After my daughter Cindi warned me that I might get my throat cut if I stayed in the Tomb very long, to leave right away was the right choice even though Cindi wished I would stay longer in case her mother showed up, I couldn't chance it.
Didn't it occur to you all the problems you would have taking only females with you? 
"I didn't give it any thought even Jenny's crush on me never crossed my mind. My thoughts was on getting my daughter Cindi to a safer place and hoped we would find Vicki along the way, if she was alive."
Tell me about Jenny. He laughed, again. I could tell he was in good humor. "Jenny, oh my sweet Jen. She along with her father, Phil always went on our field trips where we camped and practiced survival training. When, over the years, I thought of her as a daughter but reaching the age when she became aware of boys, she fell in love with me. She would do anything to give me a kiss and hug that I thought nothing of it. She even started leaving her sleeping bag behind so she would have to share with me and Vicki. I never noticed that she was coming on to me whenever she had the opportunity. Vicki cautioned me one day when Jen crawled in with us almost naked. Vicki slept between us but she would take my arm placing it on her breasts or against her. After that weekend, Vicki made sure that a spare bedroll was kept in the van for her. Vicki told me she had a talk with Jen and explained that I was her husband and thought of her as a daughter, not another female. Besides, I was told old for her. After that talk, Jen quit kissing on me and throwing herself at me. She became somewhat withdrawn. I was pleased when I learned she started dating other boys and put her infatuation of me away. I was to learn, she only hid it."

Tune in next week when I complete the interview with Brad sharing his deepest thoughts.  You can pick up your own copy of the story.

Talk back, I'm listening

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Choices by J.L McFadden- tour post

I am pleased to host this excerpt posting and author Bio. Read and enjoy-

"What is wrong, Love?" He questioned as he caressed her long, streaming black hair,
and then sealed it with a kiss to her head.
Her eyes lit up and her face erupted into a blush with a smile from ear to ear. "You
are making me feel like a school girl all over again," she answered as she made eye
contact with his boy like gaze on her.
"How is that? I mean you are one of the most powerful vampires in the world. I am
just a young man that has not seen a millionth of what you have seen."
She sat up and brushed her hair aside as he pulled himself up to lean against the
headboard of the bed. Her eyes were dancing as though she was searching deep in herself
for the words she desperately needed to convey to him her true and clear, heartfelt and
soul-filled feelings for the man that now owned her heart. Grabbing him by the throat,
pulling herself closer to his lips, gnawing on her own as she chewed over the words a bit
more. "You, Sir, are anything but a normal man. In almost two centuries, I haven't ever
met a man that was a match for myself. You make me feel things that I did not realize I
was capable of."
"So does this mean, you will stay playful and not go back to that serious stance you
had when we first met? Because you confuse the hell out of me with your flipping from
being so serious to so playful with me."
Adela's fangs began to elongate as she got closer to the throbbing vein in his neck; he
could feel her breath on his neck, heaving heavily above the vein that erected itself
outwards from the rest of the flesh until she bit down. She breathed in through her nose as
her eyes rolled back in her head; his blood was like nothing she had ever partaken in. She
could feel his hands running down her back and clamping down on her rump as he pulled
her near. She came up for air, trying desperately to fight the temptation of draining every
drop of this narcotic that filled his veins. She went back down, but not for seconds, but
rather to kiss and lick the wound to allow it to begin to heal over from her saliva's healing
With her fangs still out and heaving, "Well, that will depend on our situation. I love
being fun and playful, but I have to be the other way to lead the clan."
"Hey, what is wrong?"
"You and I have a new problem."
John looked very confused, "What sort of problem? You just confessed your love to
me a few moments ago. How could we have a problem already?"
Caressing his face with the palm of her hand, she smiled and kissed him gently on
the lips. She took in a deep breath, "I have a bloodlust for your blood."
"So, if you lust for me, how can that be so bad?"
"Because the temptation to drain you is insane."
She paused for a moment before continuing, she had to gain her breath and control,
"I have heard of it, but never dealt with it before. Your blood is like heroin to me. After
last night, just your scent is enough to send me into a feeding frenzy."
John, now with a slightly frightened look, sat himself up a bit more and took a good,
close look at how she was shivering. "So, am I going to have to fight for my life or
She shook her head as she pulled up the shoulder strap back into place. "Just
something that we are going to have to deal with."
Taking a mischievous look at his lap and leaning her head to the side, she said, "It's
not the only thing I lust for from you."
With a wink of reassurance, "No worries, I got a hand on this. John, I need a favor."
"Anything. What do you need?"

Author Bio:
J.L McFadden was born in  Pennsylvania and spent his life bouncing around the States until beginning to travel the world. Starting out he was a well-known musician in upstate New York that had a heavy playing schedule. Later he went back to his home state to work in the Lumber mills of the mountains. In California working in sales, management and even directed a small moving company until deciding to see the world. His travels around the world have allotted him to not only join an International Aikikai Aikido Federation, but have trained with Sanseis from Belgium, Ukraine, Russia and other European countries. He accounts his journeys and meeting of new people to his broad character types in his books.

Book Blurb:
While still doubled over, picking up a book, Adela stated with a sultry voice, "One of these days, I am going to make you deliver on all of those promised ideas, running through your head when you watch me." She had a playful sound to her voice with her smile, telling that fulfilling his dreams was not out of the question.
 You can contact J.L. McFadden at the sites below
You can purchase the book at these sites:
You can even win at the Rafflecopter below
Check out the post below for more details. 

"This tour sponsored by 4WillsPublishing.wordpress.com."
Don't worry, I'm always listening to you and for you giving the latest greatest books. Talk back! See you next time! 

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Spotlight on Kathryn Biel

Telling stories of resilient women, Kathryn Biel hails from upstate New York and is a spouse and mother of two wonderful and energetic kids. In between being Chief Home Officer and Director of Child Development of the Biel household, she works as a school-based physical therapist. She attended Boston University and received her Doctorate in Physical Therapy from The Sage Colleges. After years of writing countless letters of medical necessity for wheelchairs, finding increasingly creative ways to encourage the government and insurance companies to fund her clients’ needs, and writing entertaining annual Christmas letters, she decided to take a shot at writing the kind of novel that she likes to read. Her musings and rants can be found on her personal blog, Biel Blather. She is the author of Good Intentions (2013), Hold Her Down(2014), I’m Still Here (2014), Jump, Jive, and Wail (2015), and Fly Robin Fly, a short story (part of Cupid on the Loose: A Valentine’s Anthology 2015).

Drop by and check Kathryn's book, I think you will enjoy it. Talk back, I'm listening!
Follow this blog or my other one on Wordpress at http:/lightningbooksbyagmoye.wordpress.com

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Take a Look at the Beautiful Cover for "The Tramp" -Cover revealed


Title: The Tramp (The Bound Chronicles Book 1)
Genre: Mystery, Thriller &Suspense > Supernatural > Fantasy > Paranormal & Urban
Author: Sarah Wathen
Cover: Sarah Wathen
Release Date: April 13, 2015


Book Description

When John was seven, he found Candy dancing in the neighboring yard wearing a yellow polka-dot bikini and red rain galoshes, splashing and dancing and singing at the top of her lungs. She saved his throat from getting ripped out by her grandma’s guard dog. Good thing she did, too. It was John who raised the alarm that day, when the man who smiled with his mouth but not his eyes drove off with Candy in a cloud of dust. The police stopped whatever might have happened next in a seedy motel—a place Candy doesn’t dare remember. John rescued her, creating a bond between two friends strong enough to awaken…something.
Years later, John and Candy begin to suspect something more sinister lurking amidst the days of football glory and the nights of clandestine rendezvous. John discovers disturbing symbols from the ancient tribes indigenous to the area in his history textbook, in a local cave system, and in his very dreams. Candy uncovers a family history that is more colorful than she knew. If shades of black are colorful.
If only the two friends could foresee the danger looming before them. For another something, one much more dangerous than the first, is waking up to continue the cycle.Murder forces everyone out of sunny valley torpor, and Candy realizes that more than acquaintance connects her with the killer. When a corpse is found, gutted as if for ritual, she knows that whatever evil has overtaken her hometown is moving forward. She will have to exorcise the haunting herself—though she has no idea how—and she will need John’s predestined help to do it. Candy will have to face the memories of that seedy motel room first. At least she finally understands the power she never knew she had—a link to her departed mother and a line of healers shrouded in pre-history.

About the Author


Sarah Wathen is an artist turned author. She was trained in Classical Painting at the University of Central Florida, and received her Master’s in Fine Art from Parsons School of Design in New York City. If Florida was where she discovered her passion, New York was the place she found her voice. “Writing a book was my obvious next step, once I realized I’d been trying to tell stories with pictures for years,” she says about transitioning from visual artist to novelist. “Painting with words is even more fun than painting with oil.” Sarah lives in Florida with her husband, son, and at least a dozen imaginary friends from her novels. A painter at heart, her books incorporate art judicially, both in narrative content and supporting materials. Her characters are derived from the people and places that have influenced her own life—at least one beloved pet makes it into every book—but the stories they live will take you places you have never imagined, and won’t want to leave.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Why buy ebooks?

If you own an e-reader or have one on your computer, why would you buy any books with so many authors giving away free ones. I know most do it, I have even done it a few years ago, trying to attract readers with so many Indie authors out there. I found it does not work, has it worked for you?  I understand the author's frustration being a minnow in a pool of sharks. You might get lucky and someone will download your first book of a series and then purchase the rest of the series hooked on the story. Those with single books cheapen them when they try to go back and charge for them. An author never can get full value for their work once they do give away a few thousand free. Those authors with name recognition do not have the problem new Indie authors face.  Myself, I no longer give away ebooks unless it is for a reviewer. I will reduce the price for a limited time trying to get more readers as I have done for Chronicles of the Marauder, Marauder Rising, reducing the price down to $1.49 during the winter months with so many holidays. Still, why would anyone buy an unknown when they can get plenty of books free. I do keep my Lightning in the Tunnel Begins at $.99 trying to obtain readers for that series. Do you still give away a lot of your books for nothing? Talk back, I'm listening. 

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

A little heavy headed this morning- Life of a writer

Writers are known for keeping crazy hours, at least this writer is. When we are writing, time can get away from us. We stay up late at night, sometimes after writing we celebrate our little successes. That makes our head feel a little over-sized the next day like today. Having never written a million seller, I don't know what I would do if that ever happened. I might party for a week straight, LOL! Seriously, we writers must enjoy writing and getting our stories out whether they sell a million or one copy. For me, if that one book sold and the reader enjoyed it, that makes my day. I do not worry about my legacy, the way some do. Do you worry about yours?

I recall my first self published book and one review in particular. It was a one star review and seeing the one star, I was devastated until I read it.  The reviewer thought it was a book about how to survive instead it was a story about a family after a nuclear war.  That was the reason for the one star. She went on to say, great story line. That little statement made my day. She ended it ended by saying, "I need to go wash my hands, now" in reference to all the sex scenes the book contained. Still to this day, I wonder what she did that she needed to wash her hands after reading it. LOL!

So how is your day going? I know I have not been blogging much, hosting so many book tours or posting any reviews but I will get back on schedule very soon. I have not signed up to host that many tours. 

Talk back, I'm listening and have a great day! 

Friday, March 13, 2015

Garden by Jane Yates -Book Tour-Guest post

I am please to host Jane Yates's Garden book tour.

 ‘Garden is very charming with some lovely parallels …’ Sharon Sant – Author of The Sky Song trilogy

Inspired by the classic novel The Secret Garden, Jane Yates introduces us to a steampunk world of bio-domes, robots and mysteries. Eleven-year-old Aberdeen is so used to being by herself that all she has to fill her thoughts are stories of mighty dragons and grand castles. But Aberdeen’s world is soon thrown into disarray however; her parents murdered.
Having no choice, Aberdeen is sent to live with her uncle back on Earth where her fascination into her new surroundings begin to take hold. It isn’t long before Aberdeen befriends three other children – Maisy, Peter and Lenard.
Oh, and there’s Frank too, Peter’s robot dog, who completes this special circle of friendship.
Garden is a journey of self-discovery, of trials and friendship. With adventure boundless, Jane Yates follows up her acclaimed Paradox Child trilogy with a new tale for young fans of steampunk and science fiction.

Praise for Garden

‘Garden is very charming with some lovely parallels …’  – Sharon Sant – Author of The Sky Song trilogy

‘This is an absolutely lovely story with a really intriguing mystery …’ – Jaimie Admans – Author of Afterlife Academy

‘Garden made me smile from start to finish.’ – Dan Thompson – Author of Here Lies Love

‘Jane Yates has written a wonderful story of self-growth, courage and learning how to love.’ – Book Raiders Blog

 Jane lives in the historic city of Oxford, England with her two spaniels. She works at the Pitt Rivers museum there too and is amazed and inspired by its wondrous array of objects. Being a museum of anthropology and world archaeology, Jane often finds herself influenced by its exhibitions. And indeed it has helped Jane write a trilogy for children – the Paradox Child series.

Jane is not only a mother, artist and storyteller, but dyslexic too, which only highlights her success even more. Jane refuses to allow the disorder to halt her dreams and continues to enjoy her favourite hobbies. Jane is a lover of steampunk, adventure and children’s stories, which often play a huge role in her own books.
 Left Alone

Garden 1
Deep in space, Aberdeen sat on a balcony overlooking a grand party her mother hosted. Everyone wore their finest clothes. The music was loud; a type of remixed jazz. Aberdeen searched her mother out among the crowd of guests. Upon spotting her, she gazed at her mother’s attire; a long silk dress, the colour of shock blue. This was matched by elaborate feathers and sparkling jewels that hung in her blue hair. Her mother’s hair swung down her back, which highlighted her large dragon tattoo. Aberdeen eyed the lead in her mother’s hand and followed it to the golden robot dog sat beside her. It was tall and thin, and even from where Aberdeen sat, she could see the cogs moving inside it as if it had a tiny heart beating.
Aberdeen’s mother laughed gaily. She had the full attention of a young officer with braided hair, who was smartly dressed in his green and gold uniform. As he chuckled along, his head dropped back and a cool thin line of rose-smelling cigarette smoke slid from the corner of his mouth.
Aberdeen continued to watch the party from above. As usual, there was no sign of her father; probably in the engine room of the ship, she guessed. She browsed at all the fresh fruit and flowers in the tall bowls and glasses decorating the table. She knew that they had been picked up the last time the ship had docked at one of the satellite stations. She had learnt that the fragrant, exotic flowers had been grown in large artificial garden domes and she longed to see one.
She looked down in awe at the musicians. A large man sat at a glass piano, his fingers elegantly flitting from key to key. Aberdeen could see his fat belly though through the transparent top of the piano; it wobbled tastelessly as he played, a huge contrast to his regal demeanour. Aberdeen also noticed a tall, skinny man, strumming a black shinny double base and three female trumpeters who all wore brown and white stripy suits.
Draped from the metallic ceiling were candle-shaped lights, and in between them dancers gambolled on trapeze ropes. They wore porcelain masks and flamboyantly displayed peacock feathers, midnight blue and jade green, in their hair. They matched the rhythm of the quintet perfectly, Aberdeen thought.
The floor was polished to a high shine and Aberdeen could see the refection of the sociable people in it. In the corner of the room was an old gentleman who caught Aberdeen’s interest. Upon his head was a black top hat and he rested a glass monocle on his eye, which magnified his golden brown iris so even Aberdeen could see. His long twisting moustache made Aberdeen giggle.
There were no children however, and Aberdeen wondered what the workers’ children were up to. She suddenly felt quite alone.
Aberdeen picked up some of the plastic cocktail sticks that had been dropped on the floor; planting them along the edge of the balcony and playfully imagining them growing into amazing flowers. She soon tired of the game and thought about going downstairs to join the party, but knew that her mother would not be pleased; her mother felt that children should be seen but not heard and, where possible, not seen at all. Her mother had not wanted children. Aberdeen knew she hadn’t been planned and her mother, a socialite, did not have time for her, nor did she wish for her daughter to mix with the other children on the ship, as these were the workers’ children. The elite children had been shipped off to boarding school, but Aberdeen had not settled in well there and caused fights with the other children. She was returned to her parents in disgrace.

Aberdeen had wanted to play with the ship workers’ children, but her mother, on one of her brief and rare visits to see her daughter, told her horrid stories about them. “They have revolting lice in their hair,” she had said, and “Do you want them to jump at you and bite you?”
So instead Aberdeen spent all her time in the company of her robot nanny; her Guardian. Her Guardian was programed to do whatevershe wanted, as long as it did not disturb the child’s parents. It was efficient but uncaring, which had led partly to Aberdeen becoming the same way. The Guardian was responsible for her education too and arranged her meals and even dressed her. It was also programmed to tell stories. The wondrous tales and adventures of frightful dragons and grand castles were her favourite and she would spend her time imagining dragons flying around her room acting out her own brave endeavours.

Early the next morning, Aberdeen awoke thinking she had heard screams and cries for help. Frightened, she locked her door and snuggled tightly underneath her covers. The thick duvet muffled the cries from outside, and before long, she had drifted back to sleep.
When she awoke some hours later, having convinced herself that the commotion from the night before had been a terrible nightmare, she opened her door and sat on her bed waiting for her Guardian. Minutes later, it still hadn’t appeared.
Aberdeen browsed her room to pass more time; it was only fair she allowed her Guardian a little extra before she left the room. Her room was plain compared with the lavish party setting of downstairs, although she knew she could have it decorated any way she desired. She chose to not have a lot. What she liked doing the most was playing with her robot snake. Aberdeen was content with her few intimate toys rather than having extravagant playthings she had no need of. She had books, but she preferred to be read to. The furniture was clinical white, undecorated and simplistic in design. Everything served a purpose and there wasn’t even a carpet on the floor, just white lino. There were pictures on the wall, but none that she had chosen, as if put there by someone who had no knowledge of her at all.
She suddenly remembered the soft toys she once had, which consisted mostly of dragons, but they had been stored away when she had been sent off to school. Her mother, still angry at Aberdeen’s quick return, as if she was but a nuisance, had not retrieved them yet. She much preferred her robot snake anyway.
Aberdeen felt herself becoming increasingly frustrated; why wasn’t her Guardian coming to dress her? She wasn’t used to waiting. When the rage become too much, Aberdeen jumped and stamped her feet screaming for the Guardian to come. When it still hadn’t arrived, she sulked down the hallway until she came to the balcony. All the food and glasses were still left set out, but there wasn’t anyone around. Aberdeen descended the staircase and quickly snatched some of the food. On her way back to her room, she grabbed an opened bottle of wine.
As she crossed the polished floor however, she froze and looked at her sad reflection. Her plain looks gave way to a sour jawline, giving the impression that she rarely smiled. In truth, Aberdeen realised that she hardly did. Her shapeless chestnut hair appeared dull. She looked as far away from the fashionable figure of her mother. Her words rung in her mind.
Spoilt, bad tempered little child!

Aberdeen promptly scooted back to her room. Perhaps her Guardian had arrived.

Aberdeen was furious to find it hadn’t. She slid her food underneath her bed and squeezed under herself, thinking mean thoughts. She ate some of the food and sipped the wine, which made her sleepy. Eventually, not realising how long had passed, and getting rather bored, she played with her small robot snake. She built high obstacles out of plastic bricks for it to slither around. She tried to imagine that the snake was a dragon from one of her stories and that the bricks were castles. When she had drained the wine however, Aberdeen soon found herself slipping into a slumber.

But when she awoke, her angry temperament hadn’t left her. Where was her Guardian?
Just then, outside her bedroom door she heard two muffled grown-up voices.
“It’s a shame; she was beautiful, taken in the prime of her life,” the first voice said.
“She was a mother too,” the second voice replied.  “I hear she had a child, a girl, although nobody ever really saw her.”
Aberdeen got out from under her bed and opened the door. She frowned at two officers who were stood in the hallway wearing gas masks.
“Oh, look, Barnabas, there’s a child here, alone in a place like this!” one of them said, pointing and grabbing another mask from his bag which was slung over his shoulder.
“Who is she?” the second offer asked.
“I’m Aberdeen Gale,” Aberdeen introduced herself, pulling herself up as tall as she could and staring at them both.
“Oh, this must be the girl no one ever saw. Poor thing, she must have been forgotten,” the first officer said, holding out the mask for her to put on. Aberdeen glared at the mask; it was a strange shape, light brown in colour with two round windows for eyes. She spotted a dull copper filter hanging from it. The gas mask itself could have been really old if it not for the fact that there was a green triangular light flashing on it.
“I don’t like it!” Aberdeen shouted, folding her arms across her body and scowling at the men.
“Oh, the poor thing, she’s frightened,” Barnabas said, a hint of patronisation in his voice.
“I’m not poor at all,” Aberdeen snapped. “My father is in charge of the ship. I need you to take me to him at once as my robot has not come for me.”
Barnabas knelt down next to Aberdeen. “You poor child,” he said softly. “Everyone is dead. There was a distress signal, which we picked up.” He helped her to put on the gas mask.
Aberdeen could not believe what she was hearing. She tugged at the gas mask, rearranging its strange structure. It felt heavy on her face and it made her want to itch her skin. Barnabas offered her a smile. He looked to his colleague for support, who continued to talk as if Aberdeen was invisible.
“Maybe the girl survived as she leads a solitary existence? Well, that will have to change now.”
Barnabas continued to smile at her.
“You must come with us, my girl,” the other officer instructed, holding his hand out to Aberdeen. “We need to take you off this ship and back to a halfway station for quarantine. Juno is probably the nearest one.”
“Your robot is not coming,” Barnabas told her as if he had sensed her thoughts. “All the worker robot signals were shut down when the distress signal was issued.”
Aberdeen glared at him, “I don’t believe you!”
“It’s true,” Barnabas said. “It’s part of the fail safe protocol. When the distress signal is sent it allows for every eventuality, even robot attack, so it shuts them down.”
Aberdeen stood still, her mind racing, she did not know what to do.
“It was some sort of virus,” Barnabas continued. “We are not sure of all the facts as yet, but from what we can piece together it looks as if one of the crew members released a fast acting, deadly virus as a grudge. We suspect a chemist.”
Aberdeen must have looked blankly at him, as he continued. “We were on our way to arrest him anyway. He had been developing new Class A drugs and had become paranoid.”
Aberdeen took a step backwards unsure to believe them or not. She wasn’t quite sure what ‘Class A’ drugs were, but she definitely didn’t like the sound of them.
The other officer said, “Look, we haven’t got time for this. We need to get you off this ship; it’s going to be decommissioned.”
Aberdeen ran back into her room and scooped up her snake and placed it in her pocket, then followed the two officers along the corridor and away from the only home she had ever known.
Text copyright © Jane Yates 2015

Jane Yates Links –

Garden Links –

Autumn Orchard Links –

 Hope you enjoy this blog post, remember Talk Back, I'm listening and feel free to follow this blog at your leisure. Have a great weekend.

Thursday, March 12, 2015

The Vanilla Bet by Ella Ermerson-Guest post by 4Wills publishing

I am pleased to host Ella on my blog and believe you will enjoy the blog tour along with the book.

Excerpt from The Vanilla Bet


While we eat, he produces a champagne bottle and two flute glasses. The cork pops at his expert hands and he pours us each a glass. 

Handing me a glass, I shake my head and laugh, “Wow, you sure are trying hard to impress me.”

He stops pouring and sets the champagne bottle down, stalking over to me. He places both hands on either side, resting them on the arms of the chair. Leaning in close, super close, he whispers softly, “I wouldn’t say that, I would just say that I am trying.”

Aww, love, hearts, swoon, stars float through my head and I remind my girly parts to calm down.

His lips are so close to mine, I take a deep breath and smile.

Dark bottomless eyes dumbfound me. The depth of which has no beginning and no end.

A panty-melting smile breaks from his lips and I utter, “Oh.”

He walks back to his seat and raises his glass. “To a new beginning.”

I glance sideways at him as I clink my glass with his. “Cheers.”

I sip on the bubbly fizz and am happy I’m here tonight. Letting the bubbles calm the butterflies, I smile at how relaxed I am. The thought of dating had scared me before, but now I feel secure with Trace.

“So, back to corny 80’s chick flicks, which is your favorite?” I ask, placing my glass on the table. Turning to face him, he snaps his head back in laughter.

“Oh you can’t be serious.” He smiles.

“I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.” I singsong.

“No, I want to know what your favorite horror movie is.” He says, taking another sip of his drink.

“Ok, you first.”

He mulls it over rubbing his hands together. “I think I would say, umm, Footloose.”

I laugh, “No way, so have you always liked men?”

“I’m not gay if that’s what you’re suggesting.” He smiles, rubbing his fingers through his straight black hair.

“Oh no, I would never. I mean every guy’s favorite movie is Footloose.”

I hum the theme song when he cuts in. “I never said it was my favorite movie, sweetheart.” His eyes grow serious as he glares. “And I can prove my love for woman if you’d like me to show you.” He says, running his finger down his jaw, suggestively.

My insides are a complete pile of goo, as I blink, rapidly. I try to pick up my jaw off the floor as I recover, “Ok, my turn.” I sputter out as quickly as possible.

“Right, what is your favorite horror movie?” He asks, leaning back in the chair and stretching his arms behind his head.

I gulp as I try to remember my favorite horror flick, truth be told I hate horror movies. They frighten me, but picking a movie at random, I sputter, “Friday the 13th.”

He leans closer and removes his arms from their resting place. “No it’s not.” His eyes penetrate right into the lying part of my brain and pulls out my fib as if he had the blueprints.

“Well to be honest, I don’t care for horror movies.” I confess.

“Too scary?”

“Yes, I can’t sleep at night after watching one.”

He smiles and leans even closer as he grabs the champagne glass. “I can help keep you safe.”

I roll my eyes, “Typical guy comment.”

He chuckles, confused. “What?”

“That is a typical guy comment, when the girl says ‘I get scared watching scary movies’ the big guy leans over and says, ‘Don’t worry baby, I’ll keep you safe’. It is just a reason for guys to put their paws all over girls.” I bat my eyelashes to him and smile.

Trace Weston lives in the beautiful Palm Beaches. A college student who would rather party his life away than accept his father's company. He loses a bet at a college party and has to have a "vanilla" relationship with a girl he has never met.

Vanessa Summers, moved to Florida to attend college for her love of the arts. She also left behind a dark past that haunts her every day. She meets Trace and is instantly taken with his irresistible charm. Will she be able to keep her secrets hidden? Will Trace be able to help her find the answers to what she is searching for? Will they be able to find who and what is trying to keep them apart?

This book is not suitable for persons under the age of 18. STRONG LANGUAGE, SEXUAL MATERIAL, and INTENSE VIOLENCE.




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