Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Nacreous Book four of the Harmony Run series by Sarah Elle Emm- blog tour

I thought I would start this tour stop out with an excerpt from this fine author I have featured before on this blog. This tour was sponsored by-

 Excerpt from Nacreous, Harmony Run Series, Book four…


For the rest of the walk I tried not to let fear creep over me, but the more I thought about Nata coming, the harder it was. Still, Takara had said we’d be okay. Help was on the way. I just had to believe.
We were led down a series of hallways and through somewhat familiar doors until finally we were pushed into a fairly large interrogation room. I recognized the set-up from my last trip here. But this room was larger. There were chairs lined up in a long row, twice as many chairs as there were people and a bright solar light illuminated the chairs in an otherwise dark, concrete room. My eyes instinctively searched the ground, checking for holes or iron bars like the last room I’d been questioned in. Either there weren’t any holes to lock people in here or I couldn’t find them. Part of me knew they’d be located in the dark corners, away from the light and though it should have made me more afraid, the hole was beginning to concern me less as I thought about the impending arrival of Nata.
Hands pushed me forward, and I was shoved into a metal chair. Glancing in either direction, I noticed that Marcello was right next to me on one side, and the crazy man was right beside him on the other side. But there were still six more empty chairs to my right.
Before I could wonder about the empty chairs any longer, the door opened and tension filled me anew. Was it Nata? She was here?
Surprise and relief replaced my tension as a tall man with light brown hair, Officer Eric Collins, our secret ally from the Elizabeth Guard, spared me a quick glance as he entered the room. Maybe Takara had sent him here. I closed my eyes. “Marcello, maybe Eric is our help. He’ll help us get out of here,” I said excitedly.
I’m not sure about that,” Marcello replied.
I opened my eyes and glanced towards Marcello, noting his alarmed expression. I snapped my head back to the door, expecting to see Nata. Why else would Marcello’s eyes have seemed so fearful?
But as my eyes settled on the doorway it wasn’t our evil dictator who was entering the room. It was a group of more prisoners, six to be exact, staggering into the room with another Droid Dog behind them. Their mouths weren’t covered with tape like our own, but their hands were cuffed.
The second prisoner in line stopped dead in her tracks as our eyes met. A drumming sound filled my ears. No. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t Nata, but it was worse.
The Authority had arrested my mom.


*Excerpt compliments of Winter Goose Publishing*

Thanks so much for stopping by the blog tour. If you read any of the books, I’d be flattered if you left a review and connected with my page on Facebook, where I’ll keep you updated on future books. J  ~Sarah
 People occasionally ask me why I write dystopian fiction. I like writing dystopian because it is a release of all of the crazy things running through my mind. Dystopian allows you to explore questions like…What if the government became a dictatorship? What if people weren’t allowed to go to school? What if teenagers could save the world because their parents have lost hope? What if?
I admit I have an overactive imagination. (I’ve seen every episode of The Walking Dead, and even though I know zombies aren’t real, I still check my closets and look under the bed for zombies after each and every episode). Anyhow, I think my parents had a lot to do with how I write today. One of their favorite dinner table conversations growing up was deciding which of their children, (there are three of us), they’d pick to be stranded on the infamous deserted island with, if they had to be stuck there with only one. They usually chose my sister because of her internal GPS system and leadership skills. They often decided on my brother because he has MacGyver-like qualities, and they were sure he could build a hut out of sand or something. And they never chose me. Though they often laughed and said they’d take me if they were interested in being entertained. 
Another usual at our dinner table was Dad asking if the “bad guys” were to enter our house at that exact moment, what item in the room around us could be turned into a weapon. My siblings were very talented at this. Surprise, surprise. Me, not so much. I usually panicked. (I’d think of a hiding place so they could do the fighting).
Another family favorite? Dad’s strategy talks about how when you enter a room, you should look around immediately, assessing the situation and room for possible exits, windows included, were any emergency to occur.
I think my parents came by it honestly. My mom’s dad was a WWII vet who fought in the Battle of the Bulge. He’d rush his family to the basement when it thunder stormed, never having recovered from the war or the memories of bombs and explosions. My dad’s parents took us on a family vacation to the Caribbean every year, and they’d try to split up flights between my aunt and my dad’s side, just in case there was a crash. They wanted some of the family to survive to take care of the family business. That always freaked me out. I’d worry the entire flight. (About not only crashing, but trying to figure out what was wrong with my family). J
My family always had movie night growing up. Every Sunday. We would either go see one at the theater or rent one and watch it in our basement. The genre of choice was always action, usually a thriller. I remember watching scenes where someone would go outside to investigate the “strange noise” in the night, and my family would be yelling at the screen. (If we were home. They were well behaved in theaters. Mostly). They’d yell for the character to go back inside. Of course, the character never would. My brother would always be the first to point out the girl character who was going to get killed by not reacting rationally. He’d yell at the screen as she tried to start her car but couldn’t even get the keys into the ignition because her hands couldn’t stop shaking from fear.
I was sitting in my driveway last week, trying to start my car. I couldn’t get the key in properly, and I started to panic. The more I panicked, the more my fingers fumbled and I couldn’t get my key in. I could hear my brother’s voice in my head saying, “Hurry up, Sarah. You’re gonna die. The bad guys are going to get you. Start the car!” After a moment, I started laughing at myself. Eventually, I pulled it together and managed to insert the key properly to start the car.
Anyhow…Why do I write dystopian? I think you get the point. I guess never getting chosen for Survival Island, never quite figuring out what to make a weapon out of, and just those what if conversations in general really stayed with me. I promise you right now, that if you were to go to either one of my parents’ houses or my siblings’, you’d find emergency supplies in their basements complete with water, food, and back up power supplies in case of an emergency. I barely have my fridge stocked right now by the way. My plan is to head to one of their houses when the world ends. I just hope I make it there in time…I guess it makes sense that I never was picked for that island.
I smile affectionately when I think of my childhood and when I think of my family. True, they may have scarred this introvert for life, ha, ha, ha, but they have to be credited for inspiring me to write some of the dystopian stories I write today. Thanks so much for stopping by the blog tour. If you’d like to risk getting inside of this head a little bit, all four books are on sale right now for only $1.99 each on Kindle. If you read any of the books, I’d be flattered if you left a review and connected with my page on Facebook, where I’ll keep you updated on future books. You just never know what this dystopian writer will come up with next. J  ~Sarah

Sarah Elle Emm is the author of the HARMONY RUN SERIES, a young-adult fantasy and dystopian series, released in May 2012 by Winter Goose Publishing. (PRISMATIC, May 2012, OPALESCENT, February 2013, CHATOYANT, September 2014, NACREOUS, August 2015) Her debut fiction novel, MARRYING MISSY, was published by Bird Brain Publishing in October 2011. Sarah is a graduate of The University of Evansville, she has lived and worked in Mexico, Germany, England, the U.S. Virgin Islands, and has traveled extensively beyond. Sarah lives in Naples, Florida with her family. When she’s not walking the plank of her daughters’ imaginary pirate ship or snapping photos of Southwest Florida scenery, she is writing.


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About the Books:




Rare glimpses of birds are the only reminder of the freedoms Rain Hawkins once had. Now segregated into a mixed-race zone within the United Zones of the Authority, under tyrannical rule of President Nicks, Rain is forced to endure the bleak conditions set upon her. The possibility of a way out arises when Rain discovers an organized resistance called The Freedom Front, and learns that she, along with many other multi-racial people, has special abilities. Determined to overcome her situation, Rain sets out on a mission with the resistance that will fill her life with wonder, romance, and the undying hope for a better world.


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Still enslaved in a mixed-race zone within the United Zones of the Authority, Rain Hawkins is part of a secret resistance preparing to take on the tyrannical President Nicks before plans to kill the mixed zones across UZTA are executed. When unsettling dreams and a mysterious voice begin to haunt the dark nights, Rain fears someone more powerful than she has discovered the resistance and their secret abilities. With a known Authority spy on her heels, and her boyfriend, Jabari, suddenly acting strange, Rain doesn't know who to trust and if the voices calling to her are friend or foe. As conditions across all of the zones get worse and the stakes rise, Rain embarks on a quest for answers that will put the people she cares about most in more danger or take them one step closer to the truth and their eventual freedom.



In the wake of an interrogation led by the UZTA's dictator, President Nicks, Rain Hawkins and her friends must deal with the consequences of their defiance as the countdown continues towards the execution of the mixed-zone citizens across the United Zones of The Authority. The Freedom Front faces new challenges as Rain's cousin, Calista, prepares for her impending relocation to the pure zone, and Rain sets out to solve the mystery surrounding her mother's torment while being followed by an officer of the Elizabeth Guard. As she uses her abilities to dodge The Authority and follows the strange clues from her dreams, Rain is determined to persevere, to secure the future she and Jabari have been fighting for, and to earn The Freedom Front's ultimate goal of liberation.



After two members of The Freedom Front are arrested and interrogated by the UZTA’s tyrannical President Nicks, Rain Hawkins and her friends face the alarming reality that their plans to liberate the mixed zones across the United Zones of The Authority might not come to fruition. While the resistance movement is growing outside the walls of the zones, the president’s forces are strengthening and putting citizens everywhere in more peril than ever. When Rain receives warnings that her cousin, Calista, has agreed to support plans to kill the mixed zones, and that her life could be on the line at the upcoming pure zone initiation ceremony, she must decide where her loyalties lie and if all of her allies can be trusted. As The Freedom Front use their abilities to unravel the mystery of the ceremony, The Authority captures some of their friends, forcing TFF to either go into hiding, or plan a rescue mission that could jeopardize everything they’ve been fighting for.


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Friday, September 25, 2015

The First Life of Vikram Roy by Laxmi Hariharan-release day blitz

About the Book:
His family is being held to ransom by a deadly mastermind. 

Vikram never should have left his family, but when Vikram's father brings his half-brother Vishal home, life will never be the same. Vikram thinks things will be better now that he's gone. He's met the love of his life, his future looks bright and then everything is shattered. Now, his family's life is hanging in the balance, and only Vikram can do what needs to be done to save them. From the bestselling dystopian fiction author with over 200 reviews and ratings of her dystopia books across Goodreads, Amazon and other retailers. 

If you’re looking for books like Hunger Games, then this dystopia romance series, The Ruby Iyer Series is it.




Book Links:
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An exclusive excerpt and GIVEAWAY from The First Life of Vikram Roy
The Ruby Iyer Series—by Laxmi Hariharan

I hear the staccato of shots being fired, followed by yells and howls of pain. Then, the sound of something being smashed and everything goes quiet. The TV no longer chatters. I look to the open door. The recreation room is down at the end of the corridor. The sounds of shots get closer. Without giving myself a chance to think I make a run for the door slam it shut, lock it and it’s as if that’s a signal to the rest of the men to jump to their feet. Without a word, the ten of us scram to our bunks, pull on trousers and shoes.We get our hands on whatever weapon we can find. No guns, none of us have guns. So I grab my cricket bat. (As if that’s going to make a difference?)
 Around me the others too are grabbing cricket bats and hockey sticks. Neil grabs an iron rod. An iron rod? Where did he get that from?  We drop to the floor, crouch and wait. 
Should I hide under the bed? Nope, no way. Like, that is going to help. 
And then a crash as the door is broken down, hacked by what looks like an axe till it’s in pieces on the floor and through it step through two men. One holding a machine gun, the other wielding an axe which he drops to the floor and instead grabs the the gun slung over his back. They are both wearing balaclavas, so we can’t see their features. Of medium height, they are muscular and dressed all in black: Black jeans and sweatshirts, their hair covered by the hoods. Their backs are to the door. They point their guns at us, signalling to us to put our hands up. I hesitate, not looking around but sense that the others too are not sure what to do. The first gunman points his gun at the nearest recruit … a boy just out of his teens and shoots him in the head. 
There is a collective gasp from the room. A chill runs through me. Who are they? How did they break through the security measures of the force base? And then they are foolish enough to barge right into the heart of the training facilities of the force and shoot its cadets? Why? Why would they do that? The gunmen gesture to us and this time we follow their orders. We walk to the wall at the back of the bunkhouse and line up, hands on our heads, staring ahead.
An alarm rings out then. Finally! It’s been almost ten minutes since the shooting started. Still, the reinforcements should be here soon. Now all we need to do is keep these gun men distracted enough so they don’t kill us. As if reading my mind, the guy who’d shot the young recruit moves forward, his gun trained on us. I draw in a breath and hold it. The sweat trickles down my back. My heart is racing so fast I am sure if I look down I can see it leaping out of my chest. The gunman passes me, walks to the end of the line; then back to the middle where I am. 
"You have no idea what this is about do you?" He asks.
He sounds young, as if he is barely a man himself. And something in his voice … muffled as it is, it sounds familiar. A faint recollection  grabs the edge of my mind, And then I forget everything because he leans close to Neil who is next to me, and smashes the butt of his gun into his stomach. Neil falls to the ground, moaning, holding his middle. I firm up my stomach muscles. I know I am next, I must be. I want to squeeze my eyes shut, but don’t. The gunman leans to the other side, and shoots another man in the head. 
This chap collapses without a cry. What the fuck? I want to jump him right then, but that would be really stupid of me. I am not going to help anyone if I get killed will I? There are six of us left in the room now. One of the younger recruits lets out a sob, at which gunman no 2 holds his gun at him, so he shuts up immediately.
The gunman asks me, "Where are the plans?’
"What are you talking about?" I reply, trying to stay calm, struggling not to show how scared I am inside. 
He only grins and in response, and without taking his eyes off me, holds his gun up and I know what what he is going to do and I scream. "No!" But it’s too late. This time he’s shot two more guys in succession. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. These guys are desperate, or crazy or both. 
Besides me Neil stirs on the ground.  
The gunman takes a deep breathe, as if trying to calm himself and says, "Don’t pretend to be dumb. If you don’t get me the blue prints of the security arrangements being planned by the force for Bombay; the one that you and your team mates are being trained for, then all the rest of you die too."
Only six of us left now. Four young lives, gone just like that. I feel sick. What the fuck are these guys upto? And … and how do they know about the plans? This is top secret. The only reason I know about it, is because I’ve overheard the training officer speaking with the ACP about it on the phone last week. And only because I happened to be waiting outside his room then. And how does this gunman even know that I know the details?


Want to find out what happens next? Click here


About the origins of Ruby Iyer:
Growing up in Bombay, my daily commute to university was inevitably nightmarish. It's just how public transport is here. The man behind you on the bus will brush up against you. You know you are going to be felt up on a crowded train platform. All you can do is accept it and get on. Or so you think. I did too, until, a young photojournalist was raped in the centre of Bombay in broad daylight.  It made me furious. Nothing had changed in this city in all these years. Then, I had a vision of this young girl who would not back down; who would follow her instincts, stand up for herself regardless of consequences.  Thus Ruby Iyer was born. Make no mistake, Ruby’s her own person. She leads. I follow. You can download the RUBY IYER DIARIES, the prequel novelette in the series free HERE






About The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer
2015 Readers' Favorite (Bronze) YA Action
 YA Finalist 2015 IAN Book of the Year Award
Finalist 9th Annual Indie Excellence Awards

When her best friend is kidnapped, Ruby will stop at nothing to rescue him. 

Criminals run the streets of Bombay. Jam-packed with the worst degenerates. The city is a shell of the pride and joy it used to be. Ruby knows something must be done, but it isn’t until her best friend is kidnapped by the despotic Dr Braganza that she knows that she and she alone must save city, save her best friend, save the world from total destruction. Armed only with Vikram, a cop-turned-rogue they are about to embark on a road they may never return from. If you’re looking for fast-paced books like Hunger Games or dystopia fiction like Angelfall, the Ruby Iyer series is perfect for you. 


DOING MY BIT
All SEPTEMBER earnings from the RUBY IYER SERIES will be donated to SAVE THE CHILDREN: SUPPORT CHILD REFUGEES OF SYRIA. All the RUBY IYER books with their brand new covers, are on SALE all this month at 99p/c & Rs 69/49. Click HERE to buy them. 

YOU can also donate to SAVE THE CHILDREN directly HERE 


About the Author:
She almost died. But when dystopia romance author Laxmi Hariharan had a near death experience, she was told to write. Laxmi is the creator of dystopian romance series, RUBY IYER SERIES (The MANY LIVES OF VIKRAM ROY - FINALIST Indie Excellence Awards, the bestselling The RUBY IYER DIARIES , The FIRST LIFE OF VIKRAM ROY, The SECOND LIFE OF RUBY IYER & VIKRAM ROY, PANKY's FIRST LIFE), and the Amazon bestselling, eLit Gold winner, The Destiny of Shaitan (Bombay Chronicles, 1). If you're looking for books like Divergent and Angelfall, you'll love the RUBY IYER SERIES.

Laxmi writes books similar to Hunger Games while listening to electronica & progressive rock, and downing innumerable cups of extra sweet ginger-chai. She is also an avid photographer of street art and believes she was a tree -- a redwood -- in her past life. London is where she creates. Bombay is what fires her imagination. 

Receive a free copy of THE RUBY IYER DIARIES when you sign up to her Newsletter 


GIVEAWAY
The First Life of Vikram Roy, The THIRD book in the RUBY IYER Series, launches this month. To celebrate the launch of the FIRST LIFE OF VIKRAM ROY I am giving away a $30 gift card. Winner will be drawn, Oct 1, 2015, and announced in my next newsletter.

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Monday, September 21, 2015

Milan by Simi K. Rao Book Tour-Guest post

 ‘Behind the scenes at an Indian Wedding’
Indians in general are deeply rooted in tradition. Our culture gives us our identity. Most of us (especially those living away from the homeland) cling to it, even though several aspects in these particularly modern times, make no sense at all. Why do we do so? Perhaps because it brings us together as a community and provides us comfort in a foreign environment. The same I think applies to immigrants from all over the globe.
Marriages in India, in particular Hindu marriages are long drawn intricate affairs fraught with age old tradition. Little has changed over the centuries except for certain embellishments due to modernization. To non-Indians these ceremonies appear just that—elaborate colorful rituals flavored with plenty of pomp and show.

In the following story I take my readers on a ‘behind the scenes' tour at a traditional Indian wedding. I’ve tried to illustrate the proceedings from engagement to the wedding ceremony with “generalized” Indians---my characters, and have also made an attempt to expound on the emotional upheavals that occur in the background and often aren’t spoken out loud. Milan is more of a ‘short story’ concept where it shows the before/during and after of an event than it is a ‘long novel’ about characters with hopes and dreams and goals. And its purpose is exactly that, to show the emotions Indian couples go through during the process of a wedding. This story may help the reader get a better insight into the culture of marriage in India.

The Setting of MILAN:
Whenever I travel back to my homeland, I prepare for a culture shock. The crowds, the noise, the pollution have all increased several fold as the country races forward at breakneck speed to catch up with the rest of the world. There are very places left where it still seems like life goes on as it did a few decades ago, where people are laid back and nature is not at war with mankind.
MILAN is set in one such place; Coonoor-- a hill town located in the Nilgiri Hills, about 56 kms from the Coimbatore Airport, in the southern Indian State of Tamil Nadu. It is part way from its more well-known cousin Ooty. I spent some time there during my last trip and was so enchanted that I chose to use it as a setting for my story. Known for its tea plantations, Coonoor is a lovely, rustic little town. With its abundance of greenery and quaint architecture it is a throwback to India as it used to be. The temperate climate and serene environment help the restless soul to relax and take a few breaths of peace. When you are there, don't forget to take a ride on the Nilgiris meter gauge train, as well as a personalized tour of the tea estates.
I want to thank Debdatta for giving me this opportunity to express myself and for hosting this blog tour. I also want to thank all the bloggers who are participating in this tour and have made space for my book on their blog. Your time and generosity is much appreciated.
Please visit my website http://simikrao.com/ for more info on me and my work. You can also connect with me on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/simikrao and twitter https://twitter.com/simikrao
Happy Reading! Simi K. Rao
About the Book:



Milan (A Wedding Story)


When a daughter turns marriageable age, what should a responsible father do? Easy--wed her to the most suitable boy who comes knocking on the door. Jai Bharadwaj, Mili's father and owner of The Serenity Tea Estate in the idyllic Nilgiris would've probably liked to do the same, but being who he was, he had to ask her first. What would she say?




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About the Author:

Simi K. Rao was born and grew up in both northern and southern India before relocating to the U.S., where she has lived for several years. She is the author of multicultural contemporary romantic fiction.
The inspiration for her books and other creative projects comes from her own experience with cross-cultural traditions, lifestyles and familial relationships, as well as stories and anecdotes collected from friends, family and acquaintances.
Rao enjoys exploring the dynamics of contemporary American culture blended with Indian customs and heritage to reflect the challenges and opportunities many Indian-American women face in real life.
Much of Rao's down time is devoted to creative pursuits, including writing fiction, poetry and photography. She is an avid traveler and has visited many locations around the world.
A practicing physician, Rao lives in Denver with her family. Her published works include Inconvenient Relations and The Accidental Wife. She is currently at work on her next release.

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Saturday, September 19, 2015

League of Love: Volume 3 by Donna Gallagher Book Tour

 

League of Love by Donna Gallagher copy

League of Love Volume 3 (League of Love)

by Donna Gallagher

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Emily's Cowboy

When love is not enough to heal the scars, both physical and mental, of the one you thought you would spend your life with…what else is there?
It's such a cliché—country boy moves to the big city to follow his dreams, leaving his girl and everything he loves behind—but that's exactly what Gareth Andrews has done. Playing rugby league is Gareth's dream, and he's signed with one of the best teams in the competition, the Sydney Jets.
Of course, that has meant a move to the big city and leaving Emily Mackenzie and everything he loves behind. Not that Gareth hasn't begged her to join him in the city—he has, on bended knee—but Emily needs to stay in Gunnedah and help her father on the family farm until her brother's stint in the armed forces is over. But Gareth knows it's more than that. Emily is hiding away, embarrassed by the scars that mar her body in a constant reminder of the bushfire that nearly took her life.
Can love give Emily the courage to face strangers again when her father is badly injured and Gareth shows up at the hospital to support her? Or will she let her fear and shame get the better of her, and break her one true love's heart for a second time?
Sarah's Soldier
It's what they have in common that drives a wedge between them—childhoods tormented by loss and heartbreak that have hardened their hearts.
When Sarah, digital and social media coordinator—or ‘digi-chick’, as she’s been called—is asked to babysit the special guest at the Jets Rugby League Club’s annual Anzac Day clash, she’s hesitant. What will the returning war hero, wounded from battle, think when he lays eyes on her dyed, flaming red hair and her face full of metal piercings? More than likely, the rule-following, uniform-wearing conformist will take one look at her and double-time it away from her feral-looking behind.
But the sexual attraction that sizzles between Sarah and Dylan is evident from their first touch, and despite both having built walls around their hearts, as protection from childhood loss and pain, they are keen to take advantage of the sheet-scorching, orgasm-exploding sexual tension that is simmering between them.
Of course, falling in love was never part of the plan.

Book Links

TB: https://www.totallybound.com/book/league-of-love-vol-3-print

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1O03o8s

 Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/league-of-love-vol-3-donna-gallagher/1118091454?ean=9781781846810

Good Reads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20566981-league-of-love-volume-3


WLK excerpt
 
Excerpt from Emily’s Cowboy
They were going to kill him. The collective look in the men’s eyes was one of pure animosity. Emily could see it clearly defined in their faces, could see the intent as they charged towards the man she loved—three huge men, covered in mud and perhaps even blood, judging by the russet-coloured liquid leaking from one of the men’s bandaged head—and there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t look away and sat frozen in the moment as she watched the horror unfold before her, silently praying that Gareth would survive the next few brutal seconds.
Then they were on him, two around his upper body, one knocking his legs out from beneath him as they picked him up and slammed him, back first, onto the hard ground. The four men wrestled together. He was caught beneath the onslaught from the three above him—she could see him struggling to get to his feet. It really only took a matter of seconds, but for Emily it was a lifetime. Her heart raced, her palms moistened and she could not get the air into her lungs to take her next breath, the fear he would be hurt was so overwhelming.
Just when Emily thought she could bear it no longer, the men stopped struggling. They broke away, stood and faced each other. Gareth reached down, put the ball under his foot and rolled it behind him. Emily drew a breath down deep into her oxygen-deprived lungs… The tackle was over.
Every game was the same for Emily. It didn’t matter that for all intents and purposes Gareth was no longer hers, by her own choice. It would always be like that for her—the same fear, the same panic that overwhelmed her as she watched him play his beloved rugby league. It had started way back in the days of their childhood when she and Gareth had been joined at the hip, back when she would accompany his family to those junior rugby league matches. Emily always had the same reaction—horror and fear as she watched every tackle in a hypnotic trance, a panicked state, her breath trapped in her lungs until the moment she saw him back on his feet, healthy and unharmed despite the brutality of the sport he loved. She had never loved the game the way he did. Her only reason for watching was for reassurance that he remained uninjured, and had survived his time on the field without harm. She didn’t care if the team won or lost. For Emily, it was just about Gareth.
Of course, her family—and even Gareth himself—had no idea her interest was so limited. They believed her a true fan of the sport. Why wouldn’t they? She had been with Gareth for every local game he’d ever played. Well, apart from that time she had been in the hospital, but she would have been there watching if she could have.
As Emily tuned out, uninterested in the commentator’s wrap up of the televised game, she absentmindedly rubbed at her scars, the puckering skin of her deformity, the unkind reminder of the day her world had changed. She was hardly aware of her unconscious movement—her focus was on her relief that the final siren had sounded, concluding yet another game her precious Gareth had remained unscathed.
“Chin up, Em. This is what you decided. No point second guessing or reminiscing. Gareth has moved on, his life is in the big city and you have chores to do.” She spoke the words in an attempt to quell the usual sadness she felt, as her only link to Gareth ended with the conclusion of the television broadcast. Emily turned the seldom used television off, waited till the black screen was all that was left to see and walked from the room. Her posture was hunched, her gait slow as she headed to the barn to feed the horses and clean the stalls. The routine, mundane tasks would fill her mind enough that the pain that lanced her heart would eventually fade.
“Game finished? How’d he go? Did they win?”
Her father’s deep voice breached her thoughts, bringing her back to the here and now, preventing any further painful memories from surfacing.
“Yep, they won. Gareth came through okay.” Emily didn’t want to discuss Gareth any more. It was better to push him from her mind for now, knowing full well that it would only be a week before once again she would sit white-knuckled in front of the television, riding every moment with him, feeling every knock he took as if it was her on the field. Why she could not just keep herself from this anguish week after week, she could not explain. It was just something she had to do.
She had sent him away, destroyed every plan they had ever made for their future—and they had planned and dreamt about what a perfect life they would have together, had talked of such things late into the night on many occasions. That was before she’d pushed him from her life, but she could not stop loving him, worrying for him. Emily knew this like she knew she would take another breath, and until that last breath she would love Gareth like no other.
Excerpt from Sarah’s Soldier
“So how goes the twittering?”
Sarah couldn’t hide the smile that formed as Brodie James again used the wrong terminology. No matter how many times she had tried to explain what she did as digital media coordinator to the Jets rugby league team, Brodie—the coach, and for all intents and purposes her boss—still had no idea what she was talking about.
“That would be ‘tweeting’, Brodie. It goes well. We’ve just reached twenty thousand followers on Twitter and our fan page membership is still rising steadily. You really need to open up your own Twitter account—that way you can see the impact social media is having on the game for yourself.”
Sarah had had the same conversation with Brodie before, more than once, so she was a little startled when his response was more positive than ever before.
“Yeah, I know. Cate keeps saying the same thing. She loves the whole tweet phenomenon, always has her nose stuck in her phone reading or clucking away at those tweeties.”
“Twitter and tweets, Brodie,” Sarah corrected again
“Yeah, but I don’t like her idea of names for me. Cate reckons ‘at dinosaur’ or something. That’s one of the reasons I called you in, Sarah. I was hoping you could give me a lesson on using this Twitter thing and maybe help me get a more flattering name. My modern wife needs to learn that her husband is no dinosaur.”
Sarah pushed away the laugh that threatened as she imagined Brodie’s beautiful wife teasing her sombre husband. Not that Sarah could imagine Caitlin James would be serious—it only took one look at the couple together to realise that they were deeply in love. Brodie’s affection for his wife was about the only emotion easy to read on the usually taciturn man’s face. Brodie was known for his calm, disciplined ways. He could be relied upon to keep a clear head and act accordingly—it was one of the reasons he had made such a successful transition from player to coach. The players respected him and treated his words almost like gospel, which explained the Jets’ winning streak over the past few seasons, in many people’s opinions.
Sarah decided that she would jump all over this request. While many of the younger players in the competition tweeted regularly, Sarah could only think of a couple of coaches who used Twitter. Having Brodie join the ranks would certainly boost the Jets’ followers.
“It would be my pleasure, Brodie. Glad to see you’re joining the modern age, no matter what Caitlin may think.” Winking, Sarah pulled her chair around to sit beside him at his desk. “Right—first things first, a name that’s more befitting of you.”
Sarah’s fingers flew across Brodie’s computer keyboard. @CoachBJames—yes, this is perfect, she thought as she created Brodie James’ Twitter account. Simple and straight to the point, just like Brodie James.
Sarah spent half an hour going over the basics with Brodie, suggesting a few people he might like to follow and reminding him that what he tweeted would be available to the public. She knew Brodie wasn’t an idiot, but Sarah wanted to make sure he understood everything that needed to be learnt about Twitter. By the end of the lesson, Brodie had followed his wife, @CaitlinJ10, and some of the players from the Jets. Sarah had used the Jets’ Twitter account to welcome Brodie to Twitter.
JetsRugbyLeague: ‘Hey, Jets fans! I have special news. I would like to welcome our illustrious leader to Twitter—@CoachBJames. Follow now, everyone.’
Sarah was pleased to see that within moments Brodie’s account had reached over one hundred followers. She laughed at Brodie’s shock over the immediate response and helped him create a few tweets about upcoming games and the latest developments at the club. She was pleasantly surprised to see that @CoachBJames was taking to Twitter like a duck to water.
“Think I’ve created a monster.” She giggled as she watched him send a private message to his wife that was just a little suggestive, and fell into a fit of full-scale laughter as he waggled his eyebrows at her, the adorable smile on his face an expression she wasn’t usually privy to.
“Enough of this, Sarah. There was another reason I called you in.” Brodie pushed his keyboard away, his voice becoming more businesslike, more Brodie-ish. “Have you been filled in on the Anzac weekend game against the Hawks?”
Sarah opened her iPad and brought up her calendar. She had the information Brodie was talking about stored away in her digital lifeline. The Jets and Hawks were dedicating their game to honour Anzacs past and present. The day was going to be filled with entertainment and ceremony befitting the event, with the culmination and highlight of the day being just before kick-off when, by Black Hawk helicopter, a soldier would deliver the game day trophy and ball to the opposing teams’ captains.
Sarah had already offered her assistance, in any way needed, to the Jets’ publicity team. She had pieced together a few videos of the players talking about what Anzac Day meant to them, and had also received a tape from a few serving soldiers, wearing their Jets supporters gear and wishing the Jets success on their upcoming match. So she was uncertain why Brodie had asked to see her specifically.
“Yep, I’ve been given all the relevant info. Why, is there something you need me to do?”
“Well, Sarah, as a matter of fact, there is. This is still somewhat confidential, although not for much longer, I’m guessing.” Brodie’s comment caused Sarah’s interest to spike. “As of this morning, Steve Clark has been sacked by the Jets’ board of directors. Steve has been leaking confidential information to the media. This has left us in quite a mess, considering the amount of work involved in pulling together the Anzac Day game. We were wondering if you could step up and take over his role for the short term, until we can find a replacement for Clark.”
Sarah’s breath hitched as the implications of Brodie’s words began to sink in. She was horrified to think that Steve Clark had been so disloyal to the Jets club, players and fans, but in all honesty found that she was not at all surprised. Sarah had always thought Steve Clark was a bit of a jerk. He had tried, on more than one occasion, to undermine her role, telling anyone within earshot what a waste of time it was to have a dedicated social media person at the Jets, and that he was capable of coordinating all media, publicity and promotions. His opinion that Twitter and Facebook were just a fleeting fancy had been proven more wrong every day by her success.
Could she do this, though? Sarah was not really a people person—well, not face to face. She was bold and courageous towards life from the keyboard of her computer, but in reality, out in the real world, Sarah was shy and reserved. Not that it showed in her appearance.
“What we need from you, Sarah, is to oversee the day, to keep an eye on the various corporate rooms, make sure the hosts are doing their jobs, co-ordinate the television and print reporters’ needs. You will also be responsible for looking after our guest of honour—make him feel welcome and show Soldier Boy around the ground. Introduce him to a few of the team members. Maybe take him up to the sponsor boxes and corporate dining rooms. Look, I know this is a big ask, but I’m confident that you can help us pull this day together. It’s a bit short notice, but what do you say, Sarah? Will you help us out with this?”
What is Brodie thinking?
Sarah had decided that the coach had lost his mind. Did he not see her? She was the exact opposite of what would make a soldier feel welcome. Yes—some condescending, staid and disciplined soldier would take one look at her watermelon-coloured hair, the metal piercings on her face and through her nose, and dismiss her immediately. But how could she let Brodie down? He had been so accommodating. Even if he didn’t understand much about what she actually did, Sarah owed it to him to at least try. It was one day, a few hours—surely she could pull it off.
Sarah could handle the media and reporters. She knew most of them through Twitter anyway. Trevor Hughes would probably be the television presenter and she had met him on many occasions, Trevor being married to the Jets’ captain’s mother, Laura. The hosts for the corporate rooms had been doing their jobs all season, so probably wouldn’t need much help.
“I will do the best I can, Brodie. I just hope I can live up to your expectations.”
“Great—thank you, Sarah. You are doing me a great favour and I won’t forget it. I owe you big time. Let me know if you need anything. Don’t hesitate...”
The relief on Brodie’s face was clear. Sarah knew the man had enough on his plate already. Expectations were high for him and his team of rugby league players to keep reproducing their winning form of late. She just hoped she wouldn’t let him down. It had been a long, long time since anyone had shown faith in Sarah, relied on her. Fear of failure created pterodactyl-like creatures that flapped and swooped in her gut. She excused herself from Brodie’s office and hurried back to her little cubicle in the main office area.
Already the talk amongst the office staff was full of Clark’s termination. News sure did travel fast, she thought as she sank into her swivel chair, logged into her email account and found the reason for the chatter. Brodie sure hadn’t wasted any time confirming her new duties, Sarah mused as she read the email he’d sent to all the Jets’ staff and team. It outlined what he expected of everyone in their support of her, and briefly touched on Clark’s employment termination as well.
“Think I need to make a running sheet of what I’ll need to do on the day,” Sarah mumbled to her computer screen. “It’s all in the preparation,” she added, quoting one of the coaching staff’s favourite lines. She busily opened half a dozen different screens, then began to familiarise herself with the outlined plans for the day.

WLK Author Bio



Donna Gallagher
Born and bred in the inner western suburbs of Sydney - Donna Gallagher decided at an early age that life needed be tackled head on. Leaving home at 15 she supported herself through her teen years.
In her twenties she married a professional sportsman, her love of sport -- especially rugby league -- probably overriding her good sense.
The seven-year marriage was an adventure. There were the emotional ups and downs of having a husband with a public profile in a sometimes glamorous but always high-pressure field.
There were always interesting characters to meet and observe and even the opportunity to live for a time in the UK.
Eventually Donna returned home a single woman, but she never lost her passion for watching sport, as well as the people in and around it.
Now happily re-married and with three sons Donna loves coffee mornings with her female friends, sorting through problems from the personal to the international. But she's on even footing with the keenest man when it comes to watching and talking rugby league.
Donna considers herself something of a black sheep in a family of high achievers. Her brother has a doctorate in mathematics and her sister is a well-known sports journalist.
An avid reader, especially of romance, Donna finally found she couldn't stop the characters residing in her imagination from spilling onto paper. Naturally rugby league is the backdrop to her spicy 'League of Love Series' available through UK publisher Totally Bound, tales of hunky heroes and spunky heroines overcoming adversity to eventually find true love.
In 2015 Donna is spreading her genre wings with the release of her new romantic suspense Haven Security series and a contemporary erotic novella A Fruitful Intimacy.


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