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Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Midnight Secretary by Erin Bedford | Renee's Author Spotlight

Originally posted on Renee's Author Spotlight:


Erin Bedford is a fantasy & paranormal romance author, a computer programmer by day, and a hobby hoarder. She enjoys playing RPG games alongside her husband as well as inventing nonsensical games for her daughter's amusement. Erin lives in the Omaha Nebraska Region and dreams of one day moving where the word snow is nonexistent.

Creating fantastical worlds have always been a secret passion of hers and she couldn't imagine writing any story without some kind of lovey-dovey or smexy goodness in it.




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Wait until he gets a taste of her.


Tossed out by her coven, Abigail has to brave the human world and get a real job. With no skills outside of potions and spells, she magics her way out of unemployment and into the executive suite of Midnight Pharmaceutical.

But something strange is going on at Midnight. While her boss is the very definition of dark and mysterious, he makes her witchy sense tingle with his odd hours and the string of women leaving his office every day...

She'll find out what's happening at Midnight; if her boss doesn't take a bite out of her first.

Get it today on Amazon!


Keep reading for an interview with the author:


Why did you decide to be a writer?


I have always loved making up stories in my mind, so one day I decided to start writing them down. I never expected so many people to actually like them!


Do you have a "day job"? If so, what do you do?


Yes, I work as a computer programmer by day.

What genres do you write?


Fantasy and Paranormal Romance

What inspires you to write?


Anything really. A movie, a book, sometimes even just a song makes a story to mind.

What authors have most influenced you?


May Sage, Laurell K. Hamilton, Darynda Jones

If you could choose an author to be your mentor, who would it be?


Darynda Jones

When did you first consider yourself an author?


Just recently when my series Chasing Rabbits took off. I already had one book out before that but I didn't really feel like one until later.


What are your goals as an author? Where do you see yourself in five years?


My main goal as a writer is to be writing full time. In five years, I hope to have at least twenty novels out.


What is the biggest obstacle you face as an author and what do you do to overcome it?


Finding the motivation to write. Some days it feels like pulling teeth other days it comes easily. The only way you overcome it is to do it.

What do you enjoy doing aside from writing?


I enjoy reading, playing video games, binge watching Netflix, and playing with my daughter.


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Maidens & Magic

Crimson Edge Press celebrates the fortitude of heroines in fantasy with their first anthology, Maidens & Magic. An assembly of five original stories, this selection promises to satisfy young adult and adult readers who love dark and dangerous tales. From magical slippers to forbidden books, fantastical realms to apocalyptic worlds, these shorts guarantee to entertain, rouse, astound, and resonate long after the last page has been turned.

The Beaded Slippers: Karen Bovenmyer
Book of Flame: E.C. Jarvis
Death and the Maiden: Sylvia Kelso
It All Began: G.H. Guldensupp
Dead Queen: Jonathan Shipley

Kindle $3.99

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Monday, January 30, 2017

Medieval Monday: Travel | Allison D. Reid

Originally posted by Allison D. Reid:


Travel in medieval times was a challenge to say the least. In and between rural areas, there might not be more than a narrow, beaten earth path. Overly wet or snowy weather could make such roads impassable for long stretches of time. Bandits, weather, and wild animals all added to the hazards of the road. Though main trade routes were larger and better maintained (better guarded as well) they were far from comfortable. Wagon tires were primitive, made from flexible sapling wood, and transporting anything heavy was fraught with difficulties. When possible, pack animals were used by merchants who needed to get their goods from village to village. Travel by sea was no safer than travel by foot or beast, and the sea claimed many a historic figure, including the son of King Henry I.
heraldic-regaliaHowever, history shows that in spite of the dangers and discomfort of travel, it remained an important part of medieval life. Travel was just about the only way to get news from one place to another. Couriers might be entrusted with critical and private messages, while those meant to be disseminated among large populations were given out by public proclamation, or announced through church sermons. Celebratory events of historic significance, and sometimes propaganda, were immortalized in songs and poems, which spread quickly and continued to live on in people’s memories. Since most could not read or write, verbal person-to-person communication was the most effective. Some forms of communication were visual as well. Certain types of clothing bore special meaning that would have been understood by those who came in contact with the wearer. Banners, coats of arms, specific patterns of color, and badges were also visual forms of communication.
pilgrimsBut there was another important reason to travel, aside from the need to spread news, buy and sell wares, or the desire to see new places and people. That was a spiritual one. Pilgrimages to holy sites, whether small local shrines, to Rome, or to the ultimate site of Jerusalem, were encouraged by the Church. The most important pilgrimages were those made to places that were directly connected with the birth, life, crucifixion, or resurrection of Jesus. Christians would travel in large groups to such destinations for greater safety on the road. When such an arduous journey was impossible, one found closer pilgrimage sites associated with martyrs, the saints, important relics, or visions of Mary. It was believed that traveling to such places was an act of penance that might lead to the forgiveness of sins, and brought about a greater chance of going to heaven. Shrines were thought to be places of power, where supernatural intervention could occur for those most desperately in need of help. Some shrines were known for specific powers, like curing sickness. Pilgrims who made it to sites of significance collected or wore badges as a sort of souvenir, and proof that they had made a significant spiritual journey.
A medieval souvenir pilgrim badge from Amiens Cathedral
A medieval souvenir pilgrim badge from Amiens Cathedral



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The Fell (The Naetan Lance Saga Book 1)

After the brutal death of his mentor, Leer Boxwell's only desire is vengeance. However, his belief that the murderer is the mythical Grimbarror has made him the laughing stock of the Vale. When Leer witnesses the beast steal away the princess in an unexpected attack on the royal city, he volunteers to hunt the creature. Battling self-doubt and ridicule, while struggling to control a mysterious power within that he does not fully understand, Leer must decide whether his convictions are worth the sacrifice the Fell demands.

Kindle $3.99
Paperback $11.99


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Sunday, January 29, 2017

How Many Books Are Too Many?

I am sitting at my desk surrounded by books, old and new; some books I could share with you freely but others are only proof copies and not ready for public distribution. I love books. And I have lots and lots of books, and I think I need another shelf to hold them. I could not think of a better problem to have.





Eventually, I would like to live in a house with a library. I don't know why I have always wanted a library in my house. I am talking a Beauty and the Beast extreme library, people. I want the towering shelves, the ladder you have to climb to get that one book, and the large desk in front of the oversized window. I want the fireplace, the cozy chairs with end tables, and a rug which would make rug-makers marvel. Something about a lirbary feels nostalgic. Like home.



I am uncertain if I will ever get to a place in my life where I could have a personal library in my home. I have considered settling for a book store of equal, epic proportions, but I just do not think it would curb the hankering.

Anyway, this week I am writing, proofreading, and looking to expand my library pipedream. How about you?



Joshua Robertson, CEO
Crimson Edge Press, LLC


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Saturday, January 28, 2017

Air: The Elementals Book Two by LB Gilbert | Renee's Author Spotlight

Originally posted on Renee's Author Spotlight:




USA Today bestselling author L.B. Gilbert spent years getting degrees from the most prestigious universities in America, including a PhD that she is not using at all. She moved to France for work and found love. She's married now and living in Toulouse with one adorable half-french baby.

She has always enjoyed reading books as far from her reality as possible but eventually the voices in her head told her to write her own. And so far the voices are enjoying them. You can check out the geeky things she likes on twitter @elementalauthorFacebook, or www.elementalauthor.com

*If you like a little more steam with your Fire, check out the author's Lucy Leroux titles*

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From USA TODAY Bestselling Author L.B. Gilbert!


Despite being the junior Elemental, Logan’s never had to worry about failing a mission before. Not until an overgrown and annoyingly attractive shifter comes along.

Being an Elemental is in Logan’s blood. Hers is the gift of Air, a vast power she’s still struggling to control. Then a Were named Connell hunts her down. His wolf is missing, and he blames her.

A den of werewolves is the last place Logan wants to be. The testosterone alone is enough to make her choke. But she has a mystery to solve. She will find out who is stealing wolves even if kills her.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what the enemy has planned…

Get it today on Amazon!


Keep reading for an excerpt (this excerpt was modified to preserve a PG rating):


Connell tried to drag the Elemental toward him, but she didn’t budge. Instead, she glanced at his hands. For a second, he could have sworn amusement flashed across her face. Then she was gone—wind whipping him in the face so hard it stung.

#@!%!

He turned around in a circle, scanning the air and the land around him. God, he couldn’t lose her now. He needed to get his wolf back. Not having the extra other in his head was tearing him apart. The empty space inside him was like a crawling emptiness. Sometimes, it was in his head. Other times, it was in his heart.

I can’t believe I lost her. He’d had her in his hands, and then poof. At this point, she could be anywhere. A strangled sigh escaped from deep in his chest. It sounded pathetic and broken, even to him. He checked the house to make sure she wasn’t there, and then he walked back out to his rented jeep. Damn it, he was going to have to start tracking her all over again.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

Stunned, Connell tripped. Pivoting on his heel, he turned to see the sprite standing on a huge boulder in the distance. He was so damn surprised to see her that he lost his tongue. He just stared at her like an idiot.

Apparently, she agreed. “I can’t keep calling you tall, dark, and stupid, now can I? What...is...your...name?” she repeated, over- enunciating each word.

He was too relieved to get upset over the fact she was talking to him as if he were slow. “Connell Maitland.”

The imp turned away and started addressing the air around her, “He says he’s one of the Maitlands. American accent, so one of the Colorado ones. Yeah. It’s severe. I haven’t seen anything like it. It’s like his wolf was torn out of him somehow. He thinks we did it. Hold on a sec—” Her words broke off as Connell started to run toward her.

A gust of strong air slammed him down to the ground before he cleared the rise.

“Stay there,” the sprite ordered in a glacial tone.

Frigid as the wind, he thought as he regained his footing. Hell, everything about her should be ice-cold. Instead, he felt like he was burning up around her. It was disconcerting. So was the hard edge in her voice. That kind of steel shouldn’t be coming out of such a tiny, doll-like girl.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine. He’s on a leash,” the imp said a touch smugly.

Connell growled low in his throat. At least that hadn’t changed. Prey the world over would still react instinctively in fear at that sound.

But the imp didn’t even blink. And she had heard him. She just hadn’t cared. She kept on talking like some gossipy housewife on the phone. Except she was addressing no one.

“Who the bloody hell are you talking to? Invisible fairies? Can anyone even hear you?” he asked incredulously.


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Friday, January 27, 2017

Author Spotlight: Lady of the Tarot by Juli D. Revezzo | Renee Writes

Originally posted on Renee Writes:


Welcome to this week's Friday Author Spotlight! Today I have Juli D. Revezzo visiting with her novel, Lady of the Tarot.
Juli D. Revezzo loves fantasy and Celtic mythology and writing stories with all kinds of fantastical elements. She is the author of the Antique Magic series and the Paranormal Romance Celtic Stewards Chronicles series, Gothic fantasy romance, Lady of the Tarot, Victorian romance Watchmaker's Heart, and more. She is also a member of the Independent Author Network and the Magic Appreciation Tour.

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WHAT THE CARDS FORETELL MAY BE REAL, AFTER ALL
Having escaped the Reign of Terror, Emilie Maigny takes refuge in England and tries to come to grips with the life and loss she left behind. When her brother, Sinjon, returns, a terrifying evil swoops down upon her. Nightmares plague her, providing strange clues ... but to what?
Scottish-born Linton has spent his entire life in luxury, whiling away the hours in intense study of the tarot. He knows the hidden meanings of the cards, but until he meets the lovely Emilie Maigny, he never guessed how important his study might be— to his life, and Emilie’s survival when terrible evil strikes.
A Cypher is all Emilie needs, but what is it? Is Linton the key? He may charm her heart—and he may be her only salvation.

Get it today on Amazon!


Keep reading for an interview with Emilie Maigny from Lady of the Tarot:

Where were you born, and what was it like growing up there?
Paris. And it was lovely! The city was beautiful, filled with intellectuals, poets, artists and thinkers of the age. I enjoyed visiting with my friends at their lovely homes and of course, all the parties we used to attend...before the revolution.
Do you have a close relationship with your family?
I used to. My brothers had their secrets, but I must admit they've grown more guarded since everything began falling apart in our country.
Who was your best friend growing up?
Other than my brothers Sinjon and Porter, I'd have to say my cousin Ursule.
Who is your enemy? What makes you enemies?
I never thought of myself as having enemies before, but since I came to live with my grandmother in Britain, I must say, Miss Roxanne Ivanhoe would definitely be one. What makes us enemies? I can't quite put my finger on it, but something about the young lady makes my skin crawl.
Who do you most admire in your world? Why?
At the moment, I would say ma grand-mère. She's been through a lot in her life, even before losing her son to the revolution, and still survived.
Tell us a little about your world, and where you fit in?
What can I say about our modern world? Men still run everything and even with Madam Wolstencraft's book speaking of women's rights, young women have only a few options open to them as far as what their ultimate place in the world is. It looks like I might marry an upstanding naval captain (if he proposes), but I must say, I'm not enthused about it. If I could make up my own mind on the subject, I might choose someone else. I might even forego marriage and move to the New World. Or somewhere else in Europe.
What was the most embarrassing moment in your life?
It must've been when my fiancé Éduard broke our engagement. Yes, that would have to be it.
What is your greatest fear? How will you overcome it?
My greatest fear is losing what's left of my family, my brother Sinjon, ma grand-mère. How will I overcome? I'll fight, but in the end, who can fight fate, no?
What is the most important lesson you've learned about life?
Don't trust the mob or anyone who your intuition says you shouldn't!
What is the strangest situation you've ever found yourself in?
Having to flee from revolutionaries in the middle of the night. Also, as of late, I have had very strange dreams, almost premonitions, you might say.
Who has been the greatest influence in your life? Why?
Linton. He's helped me so much lately, adjusting to life in England and making sense of the weird things I've been experiencing.
Do you have a secret you've never told anyone? Would you tell us?
The dreams I've had, apparently, according to my new friend Linton, they have something to do with tarot. I haven't had much practice at it, because you understand, we usually have ma grand-mère standing over us, but I'm learning more about reading the cards--as much as I can. I know that revelation would infuriate my brother Sinjon, so I haven't told him.
Have you ever been in love? How did that work out for you?
I think I am now, with Linton. How did it work out? Well, we're still fighting for time together, so we shall see, won't we?
What do you own that would be hardest to part with? Why?
My blue chalcedony necklace. I couldn't part with it because it's the last gift I received from my father before he disappeared.
Where can people find out more about you, and your author—and your novel, Lady of the Tarot?
They are most welcome to visit our (I should say Madame Juli D. Revezzo’s) website at: http://www.julidrevezzo.com
Our, (pardon, I mean Juli’s ) novel Lady of the Tarot is available at…some store named Amazon.
(That store's name sounds exotic, doesn’t it?)
Finally, thank you Mademoiselle Renee, for hosting Juli and I today. We hope your readers will enjoy Lady of the Tarot!



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Thursday, January 26, 2017

Blog Tour: The Fell by Lyndsey Harper | Renee Writes

Originally posted on Renee Writes:



Let's welcome Lyndsey Harper with her first "official" novel, The Fell, book 1 in The Naetan Lance Saga.
Lyndsey is a brilliant author you’ve likely never heard of, Superwife, and award-winning mother living life in leggings in the expensive and overcrowded state of New Jersey. She is fluent in Spanglish and Sarcasm and enjoys watching Arrow, Supernatural, Psych, and The X-Files repeatedly. You can find her either in the grocery store buying laundry detergent, Tylenol, and cat litter, hovering near her Keurig coffee brewer, or shaking her fist at the heavens in front of her computer. Occasionally, you may spot her on the beach or out shopping (when she actually has money to spare). However, you should avoid approaching her at such times as she is likely enjoying a rare moment of relaxation and can become moody if interrupted. If you decide to engage her during any one of these activities, approach with caution and a sizable cup of Starbucks in hand to avoid any ill effects.

More about Lyndsey...

How old were you when you started writing?
When did you know you wanted to be an author? I have been writing ever since I can remember. It started with a newsletter I wrote each month for my next-door neighbor about my pet rabbit, and then turned into poetry, fan fiction, songs, and eventually original work. I didn’t always want to write, though, despite my natural inclination toward it. My mother saw my future in writing well before I did. When I was younger, writing wasn’t glamorous enough for me. I thought it would be a boring career choice. Can you imagine, writing as a boring occupation? (LOL) It wasn’t really until high school that I embraced writing fully.
What inspired the current or most recent story you’ve completed?
There were a few inspiration sources for “The Fell,” namely “The X-Files” for its grit and mystery, and the conflict of defining truth. I also drew inspiration from “Star Wars,” and ancient Greek tragedies for character interactions, some themes, and backgrounds. I looked a lot to Scandinavian and Nordic geographies and cultural elements while writing, and that is reflected a lot in the story.
How often do you write?
I just committed to a personal 1k A Day goal for writing in 2017, so if I keep on track, the answer should be every day. I’m sure life will happen, and days will be missed, though.
Do you have a muse? If so, please elaborate. If not, what inspires you?
There are a lot of people in my life that act as mini muses for me. There is something about them that speaks to me – their look, their voice, or their hobbies or habits. When I can, I also people watch; studying the way people conduct themselves in various situations fuels my inspiration.
How do you come up with your character names and geographic location / business names?
Naming comes from a combination of research and browsing. I pick names that speak to me, either for what they remind me of, or for what they mean. About 90% of the time, I used a slightly different method for naming the creatures in my story: I would look at what animal or insect was the closest to what I saw in my mind, and see the number of syllables each name had. Then, I would base the new name off of a characteristic of the “real” animal or insect, using however many syllables I had. If I didn’t apply that method, then the names derived from just a characteristic, or from completely unrelated “nonsensical” words that stuck with me for whatever odd reason. For locations, I based a lot of the geography off Scandinavian and Nordic landscapes, so I played with consonant and vowel arrangements often seen in those areas.
Do you have any “must haves” to help you write? (i.e., a full cup of coffee, a view of the ocean, etc.)
A full mug of hot coffee. An absolute must. If someone wants to provide me a view of the ocean, though, I would certainly be grateful.
What is the quirkiest thing you do or have ever done when writing?
I have had my husband stand in and move through physical motions with me, especially for a battle scene. It really helps to make sure the movements are realistic. I also read dialogue aloud a lot, which is a little embarrassing.
If one of your books became a movie, who would you choose for the “perfect cast” of main characters?
If we’re basing it off looks, I’d choose Penn Badgley to play Leer (permitting he changed his hair color, of course), Kaya Scoldelario for Astrid, and Colin O’Donoghue for James. But whoever is able to capture the real essence of each character would be perfect. ;)

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About the Book

After the brutal death of his mentor, Leer Boxwell's only desire is vengeance. However, his belief that the murderer is the mythical Grimbarror has made him the laughing stock of the Vale. When Leer witnesses the beast steal away the princess in an unexpected attack on the royal city, he volunteers to hunt the creature. Battling self-doubt and ridicule, while struggling to control a mysterious power within that he does not fully understand, Leer must decide whether his convictions are worth the sacrifice the Fell demands.

Get it today on Amazon!

Keep reading for an excerpt:

A hush fell over the inn; the fiddle music screeched to an abrupt halt.
Bilby’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?” he asked.
“I said,” Leer repeated, “I wish to know everything you know about the Grimbarror.”
Callous laughter exploded through the men and few barmaids present, ripples of mockery piercing Leer’s ears.
“You well-washed loon,” Bilby cackled, slapping his knee through his amusement. “You wish to hear fairy tales, is that it?”
Leer’s jaw flexed as he clamped his molars together. “I seek the truth.”
“Hah!” Bilby screeched. “Would you like a cup of warm milk to go with your bedtime story, Boy?”
Leer squeezed his eyes shut briefly, trying to push away the reverberating voices around him. “Are you, or are you not, the Marcus Bilby that Finnigan Lance spoke of?” he demanded. “The one whose life he saved?”
Another wave of eerie silence fell over the inn. Bilby leaned in, gripping the table with white knuckles. “What name did you say?” he asked.
“Finnigan Lance,” Leer enunciated.
“Curse you for speaking that name,” Bilby snarled, spitting on the ground.
“Cheating scoundrel, he was,” a man bellowed from the rear of the crowd.
“Nothin’ but a drink bloated habbersnitch.” another agreed.
“You’d better have good reason for speaking that name in this place, Boy,” Bilby warned, leaning forward.
“He wasn’t a cheat,” Leer snapped. “You peddled furs with him. You worked with him, and he saved your life from insurgents. And I do believe you owe him a favor.”
A murmur trickled through the crowd, sending Bilby into visible panic as his peers reacted to the revelation.
“And what?” Bilby retorted with a scoff. “Lance has come back from the dead to claim it?”
Leer’s jaw flexed. Finnigan’s death was still fresh in his mind; it had not been long since he found his bloodied, mauled corpse. “Nay. You’ll pay your debt to him through answering my questions.”
Bilby’s eyes narrowed. “And just who are you to lay claim to any favors?”
Leer held his gaze. “His son.”



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Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Medieval Monday: Pottery | Allison D. Reid

Originally posted by Allison D. Reid:

Ok, yes, I know it is now Tuesday. The last few days have been very busy and time got away from me. A day late, but hopefully no less interesting, here is my Medieval Monday post for the week.
potter-at-wheelI mentioned last week that one task medieval people could do in January was dig for clay along river beds, which was used for pottery and tiles among other things. At least in the early medieval period, making pottery was mainly a rural activity. It was easiest to set up a workshop and kiln at or near the source of the materials needed. Large supplies of not just clay, but sand, wood to fuel the kiln, and water were needed. Access to a road or boats for transportation was also required.
potter-at-wheel-2Pottery making was typically handed down as a family industry among the peasantry. Though pottery was valued as a necessity of daily life, pottery makers were one of the lowest regarded craftsmen. It was often a secondary job, done after work in the fields was completed. Tools were simple, including combs, knives, and stamps to add decoration. Wheels were not commonly used until after the 12th century. In the mid and late Middle Ages, pottery making became a larger industry and was also done in towns and cities. Pottery began to include other materials such as wood and metal. Each region’s pottery had its own unique, easily distinguishable characteristics.
I found an in interesting video of medieval-style pottery being made for your interest and enjoyment. He shows a really great piece that was apparently made for washing hands that I’d never heard of.






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Blog Tour: Child of the Night Guild by Andy Peloquin | Renee Writes

Originally posted on Renee Writes:



Today I have Andy Peloquin visiting with his new novel, Child of the Night Guild, Book 1 in his Queen of Thieves series.
Andy Peloquin: Lover of All Things Dark and Mysterious
I am, first and foremost, a storyteller and an artist--words are my palette. Fantasy is my genre of choice, and I love to explore the darker side of human nature through the filter of fantasy heroes, villains, and everything in between. I'm also a freelance writer, a book lover, and a guy who just loves to meet new people and spend hours talking about my fascination for the worlds I encounter in the pages of fantasy novels.
Fantasy provides us with an escape, a way to forget about our mundane problems and step into worlds where anything is possible. It transcends age, gender, religion, race, or lifestyle--it is our way of believing what cannot be, delving into the unknowable, and discovering hidden truths about ourselves and our world in a brand new way. Fiction at its very best!
10 Things You Need to Know About Me
  1. Hot wings, ALWAYS!
  2. I never forget a face, but rarely remember a name.
  3. I'm a head taller than the average person (I'm 6' 6")
  4. Marvel > DC
  5. I was born in Japan, and lived there until the age of 14.
  6. Selena Gomez, Skrillex, Simon & Garfunkel, Celine Dion, and Five Finger Death Punch are all in my writing playlist.
  7. Aliens are real, but it's self-centered of us to believe that they would come to visit Earth.
  8. Watching sports: suck. Playing sports: EPIC!
  9. I earned a purple belt in Karate/Hapkido/Taekwondo.
  10. I dislike most Christmas music, aside from Trans-Siberian Orchestra.
A Few of My Favorite Things
Favorite Books:
  • The Gentlemen Bastards by Scott Lynch
  • The Stormlight Archives by Brandon Sanderson
  • Sherlock Holmes by A.C. Doyle
  • Warlord of Mars by E.R. Burroughs
Favorite Songs:
  • Wrong Side of Heaven by Five Finger Death Punch
  • Prayer by Disturbed
  • I'm an Albatraoz by AronChupa
  • Look Down from Les Miserables
  • Shatter Me by Lindsay Sterling and Lizzi Hale
Favorite Movies:
  • 300
  • Red Cliff
  • Shoot Em Up
  • Love Actually
  • Princess Bride
Favorite Comics: Anything with Deadpool, Wolverine or Doop in it
Favorite Foods:
  • Hot Wings
  • Meat-Lover's Salad
  • A good sandwich (made by me)
  • Yaki Soba
  • Sushi
Favorite TV Shows:
  • The Flash
  • Daredevil
  • Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
  • Hawaii Five-0
  • Brooklyn 99
  • Firefly (too soon!)
  • The Last Ship
  • The Walking Dead
  • Game of Thrones

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About the Book

Reviews:
"Creative, gritty, and beautifully dark...fantasy addicts will love it!" -- Peter Story, author of Things Grak Hates -- http://peterjstory.com/
"The fantasy world has a compelling new antihero…the Hunter will terrify and captivate you." -- Eve A Floriste, author of Fresh Cut
"From the first words on the page this fantasy holds the reader spellbound even after the book is finished…his character is very well-defined even if his past is a mystery. Root for an assassin? Oh, yes, one must!" -- Carol Conley, for InDTale Magazine
"Oh the carnage! Fantastic bloodthirsty carnage! The fight scenes in this book were fast-paced, detailed and thrilling. I love a good sword fight and there is plenty of that here." -- Ami L. Hart
"One could get lost in this novel for its twisting plots, seemingly endless imagination, dark yet irresistible characters, or the mind-numbing paradox of its simultaneously dark and romantic world. One could follow the long and winding road of the dusky, fierce protagonist and fight tooth and nail not to sympathize with him. One could dance in the dizzying, intricate circles of Peloquin's neo-mythology, or even basque in the black sunlight of a well-crafted gothic novel that both entertains and enlightens." -- Jesse G. Christiansen
"They killed my parents. They took my name. They imprisoned me in darkness. I would not be broken."
Viola, a child sold to pay her father's debts, has lost everything: her mother, her home, and her identity. Thrown into a life among criminals, she has no time for grief as she endures the brutal training of an apprentice thief. The Night Guild molds an innocent waif into a cunning, agile outlaw skilled in the thieves' trade. She has only one choice: steal enough to pay her debts.
The cutthroat streets of Praamis will test her mettle, and she must learn to dodge the City Guards or swing from a hangman's rope. But a more dangerous foe lurks within the guild walls. A sadistic rival apprentice, threatened by her strength, is out for blood.
What hope does one girl have in a world of ruthless men?
Fans of Sarah J. Maas, Scott Lynch, and Brent Weeks will love the Hunter…
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Twelve hurried toward the table, his face burning, a storm brewing behind his eyes. His path led him straight at Seven.
She hustled out of the bigger boy's way. Better avoid him when he's like this. No telling what he'll do.
Two, however, ignored Twelve. He remained seated, content to munch at the food spread out before him.
Twelve snarled. "Move."
A memory flitted through Seven's head: a man sat at a table, growling at her to work. She couldn't remember the face, but would never forget the anger.
Two didn't move. He reached for an apple, turned to face Twelve, and took a noisy bite from the fruit. He leaned back against the table, arms folded across his chest.
Twelve's face burned and his fists clenched at his side. "Get out of my way, Two!"
"No." Two returned the angry glare. "You're just another one of us. You don't give commands here."
Twelve swung, a blow aimed at Two's jaw. The taller boy blocked the punch and slammed the apple into Twelve's mouth. Blood mixed with crushed apple pulp and Twelve fell back.
"Go away, Twelve." Two crossed his arms again. "Leave us—"
With a roar, Twelve launched himself at Two's midsection. The taller boy twisted aside, but Twelve's heavy arms wrapped around his waist. Snarling, Twelve heaved Two from his feet and slammed him onto the table.
The impact knocked the breath from Two's lungs and his head struck a cup. He lay there, dazed, as Twelve leapt onto the table. The big boy's boot slammed into Two's ribs. Seven winced at the crack.
Twelve dropped atop Two, his elbow plowing into the boy's face. Blood spurted from Two's nose and lip. He tried to protect his face as Twelve rained down blow after blow. The heavier boy's face twisted into a mask of insane rage, his lips curled back, and spittle flew from his mouth.
"Enough!" Master Velvet seized Twelve by the scruff of his collar and yanked the boy off Two. He threw the heavy tyro to the floor, knelt on his chest, and slapped him hard. "I told you I would not abide any sort of fighting."
Twelve had lost his mind. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, his face red, his fists striking at Master Velvet.
Master Velvet slapped Twelve hard again, twice, three times. The blows cracked across his cheek and rocked the big boy's head. "Lie still, boy, or by the Watcher, I'll beat you so bad the Long Keeper himself won't be able to tell you from a pile of shite!"
Master Velvet's words penetrated the boy's anger-fueled daze. Twelve's fists stopped pumping in the air and his arms dropped. He lay on his back, gasping for air, his teeth still bared in a snarl.
Master Velvet looked over at Two. "You'll live?"
Two wheezed, coughed blood, and mumbled something incoherent.
"Good. Three, Four, Eleven. Get him back to his bunk. I'll be in shortly with something for the injuries."
The three named tyros hurried to help the taller boy and, together, they stumbled from the room.
"Now what to do with you, Twelve?" Master Velvet looked down at the boy beneath him.
He yanked Twelve to his feet and dragged him toward the weapons table.
"It seems my first lesson didn't penetrate your thick skull. Perhaps this will help you to remember!" Seizing the cosh, he laid into the boy, striking the tyro's arms, shoulders, chest, abdomen, legs, and head. Twelve cried out and tried to protect himself. "You're a vicious cunt, lad, but there's a time and place for that!"
Master Velvet slammed his fist into the boy's gut, doubling him over. He kicked the back of Twelve's knees. Twelve fell to the floor, weeping and curling into a ball.
He knelt beside the boy, bent low, and whispered something into his ear.
"Yes, Master Velvet," Twelve sobbed.
"I won't be repeating myself, tyro. Unless you want to find out what happens to those who disobey, this is the end of it."
Master Velvet stood, and Seven averted her eyes. She pushed away her bowl of gruel; her appetite had fled.
"Look at him, tyros. Look at him well."
Seven obeyed, her stomach in knots.
Master Velvet stabbed a warning finger at the sobbing figure huddled on the floor. "Let this be a lesson. No fighting amongst each other. If I am forced to say it again, I will not stop at just a beating. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master Velvet!"
"Good. Now off with you." A look in Master Velvet's eye promised Twelve's suffering had just begun.
Seven hurried from the Menagerie, the other tyros close on her heels. She cast a glance over her shoulder and caught a glint of steel in Master Velvet's hand. Rushing into the room, she climbed onto her bunk and buried her head in her pillow. The thick wool failed to block out Twelve's screams.



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