PM Pillon's Thoughts on Writing Style, Life Stories & Perception @PMPillon #WriteTip #AmWriting #SciFi

Our writing relies on our perceptions, leading us down a bright or dark path if that’s how we see the world but and are infinite in variety. For instance in Dostoyevsky’s case appreciating and writing about appalling privation because he himself experienced it as a starving writer and Solzhenitsyn also as a state prisoner. Who can fail to be moved by the young man’s utter destitution in Crime And Punishment, or the Gulag convict fussing over his boots without which he would be a dead man walking?

However, there are also cases of a writer’s life being a stark contrast from her or his writing, such as Guy de Maupassant who wrote beautifully and auspiciously even as he lived a life of depression and ultimately wrote as his epitaph: “I have coveted everything and taken pleasure in nothing.” 

We are a sum of our parts and at the same time we are a continuum, experiencing myriad states of life most often without even realizing it, with all aspects such as memories morphing into differing levels of appreciation. We forget most events and remember only a fraction, and we sometimes wish the two would transpose and we could forget that pedestrian remark dad made and instead remember something he said about mom when she was ill. If every single memory is still somewhere in our brain, until and unless a method for total recall is discovered we are forced to play with the cards we’re dealt; trudging through life with limited recollections that we can mine for our writing. A week ago I had a dream that I recognized as being a basis for a entire book as my previous books have been, but within seconds I forgot it and it’s clearly gone for good.

If we’re writing about a man whose girl friend has left him or vice versa, it helps to have some memories under our belt about amorous relationships. Writing blind about events with which we have no experience can still work if we have learned about them from observation or stories we heard from others, but it’s more problematic because more care must be taken to attain plausibility.

And ultimately our writing style will likely be the decider, such as the case of William Faulkner who gave up trying to mimic or emulate others and just wrote in his own consciousness stream and prose based on his experiences that eventually earned him universal praise and a Nobel Prize for Literature.

His celestial companion was waiting for him

Precariously climbing a sea-side cliff near Big Sur, ten-year-old Joey Blake was as yet unaware that near his grasp was an object, so odd, mysterious and alien to earth that it would change his life forever and the lives of countless others in the next few astonishing days. Reaching up as far as he could for a handhold it was just there; it had subconsciously lured him, occupied his mind, and made him find it. It was like he was meant to see and discover this object of unimaginable power … the power to change reality.

Time travel and more

This young adult series of sci-fi fantasy novels begins with The Reality Master and continues through four other exciting and amazing stories about time travel and mysterious alien devices. Joey and the reader will face dangerous shadowy criminal organizations, agents of the NSA, bizarre travelers from other times and even renegade California bikers and scar-faced walking dead.

- Vol 1 The Reality Master
- Vol 2 Threat To The World
- Vol 3 Travel Beyond
- Vol 4 Missions Through Time
- Vol 5 The Return Home

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Genre – Science fiction, Fantasy, Young adult

Rating – G

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Lights Over Emerald Creek #Excerpt by @ShelleyDavidow #AmReading #SciFi #YA

The Phonecall

‘Hi this is Lucy.’

‘Lucy, it’s Jonathan. So glad you’re there.’ The roundness and beauty of rocky hills and misty lochs sounded in his voice. It was a young voice, but had an edge of manhood about it. He wasn’t a boy.

Warmth seeped from the top of her head, into her heart.

‘That’s nice of you to call,’ she said, desperately casual. ‘What time is it there?’

‘It’s almost seven,’ he said. ‘But I’ve been up for hours.’ She liked the way he rolled his ‘r’s. ‘I can hear the sun in your voice,’ he said.

‘Really?’ she laughed. ‘But it’s been raining all day!’

He laughed too. ‘I can still hear it. It must be warm there.’

‘Yeah, sticky and hot. But I want to know everything. Is this going to be expensive for you?’

‘Not at all. In fact I have this calling card that’s a really good deal. I can call you cheaper than I can call my neighbours.’

‘What does it look like in Scotland today?’ Lucy said, nervously winding a pipe of hair around her finger and then sticking the end into her mouth.

‘It’s grey, and it’s freezing. The Firth of Forth is foaming and frothy, and beating the land into shape, fed by the cold North Sea. The clouds are low and dense. People are really grumpy as they huddle against the wind and drag themselves to work. But I’m lucky … I’m all bundled up in my pyjamas listening to cheesy eighties music in my grandpa-slippers, drinking hot tea and talking to a girl with a beautiful sunny voice on the other side of the world.’

Lucy felt herself blush.

‘What’s Australia like today?’

‘It’s hot. Probably thirty-four degrees. That’s Celsius. Humid too. Been raining all this time. From my window I can see two Kookaburras — I gave them names a while back — Kevin and Evan. My dog Jaffa’s at my feet. The hills are green outside and … I don’t know …’ she laughed. ‘Is this small talk and should we get to the point?’

Jonathan laughed too. ‘If you like. Kookaburras. I can hardly imagine.’

‘Yeah, sometimes if you give Kevin a juicy bit of sausage outside our kitchen and you time it right you can gently stroke his back as he eats. You have to be fast though. Sneak in a cuddle before he turns his beak on you.’

‘I’m jealous,’ Jonathan said. ‘Well, I wish I could see you Lucy. No chance of Skype?’

‘Nope.’

‘Maybe it’s better you don’t see me anyway, I’m as pale as an albino earthworm after months without sun. But I’d like to see you, if I could.’

‘Well, that wouldn’t be fair, would it?’

‘I suppose not. Would you send me a picture? Email it?’

‘Only if you send me one at the exact same time,’ she said smiling. ‘Whether you’re an earthworm or not.’

Lucy Wright, sixteen and a paraplegic after a recent car accident that took her mother’s life, lives in Queensland on a 10,000 acre farm with her father. When Lucy investigates strange lights over the creek at the bottom of the property, she discovers a mystery that links the lights to the science of cymatics and Scotland’s ancient Rosslyn Chapel.

But beyond the chapel is an even larger mystery. One that links the music the chapel contains to Norway’s mysterious Hessdalen lights, and beyond that to Saturn and to the stars. Lucy’s discoveries catapult her into a parallel universe connected to our own by means of resonance and sound, where a newly emerging world trembles on the edge of disaster. As realities divide, her mission in this new world is revealed and she finds herself part of a love story that will span the galaxy.

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Genre - Young Adult SF

Rating - PG

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Claudette Melanson Shares RISING TIDE’s Playlist #Vampire #Romance #NowListening

For every writer, there’s a unique recipe for inspiration.  The right conditions come together to somehow feed the story in the mind.  Some authors dream scenes while sleeping, others glean ideas from movies they’ve watched or books they’ve read.  For many, one of the biggest sources of inspiration comes from music.  All these elements have come into play for my own writing, but music has had the biggest influence on the ideas flowing onto my laptop screen.

There are many authors who share novel playlists publicly.  Stephenie Meyer includes her playlists for the Twilight novels right on her web site.  I can remember reading Melissa Marr’s Wicked Lovely and being surprised to see her novel’s playlist printed right in the back of the book, amazed to discover I wasn’t the only one to build these!  8tracks.com even has a collection of novel playlists which allow you click on the list and play the all the songs included.

I’ve read blog posts by authors who use playlists, and many have a list of songs they place on shuffle and listen to while writing.  Some even suggest listening to this list when not writing, to start the flow of future ideas.  I’m all for listening to a complete list during times don’t have my work in front of me.  This exercise takes the mind back to the creative space, and who knows what may emerge, even when not ‘officially‘ writing.  But, when I sit down with the sole intent of working on one of my novels, I practice a method my husband thinks is a little crazy.

Each of my chapters has its own song, on rare occasions, more than one.  It’s a must I have a song in place to set the mood for the action in the scene I’m writing.  And…I listen to that song over and over, for the whole duration that chapter or scene is being written.  I just can’t listen to anything else; it breaks the mood for me.  When the scene shifts, sometimes within a chapter, it’s time for a new song.  If I don’t change the tune to fit the text, it can kill the flow of ideas for me, the song so completely becomes a part of the world I step into and try to recreate on my screen.

Playlists not only help me create stories, but the playlists I’ve discovered by other authors have turned me on to a wealth of great new songs and artists.  Before I read the Twilight playlist, I’d never heard of the band Muse.  Now I certainly can’t imagine my life without them!  Looking for the perfect chapter song is another way I’ve discovered some great new music.  Sometimes I don’t have a song in my collection that fits the next scene, so I go hunting.  One method I use to find that perfect song has been to Google the word lyrics, along with a phrase that describes the emotional feel of the chapter or section.  One of my typical searches may be something like:  “lyrics nightmare world” or “lyrics heart on fire.”  I’ve found a lot of fine music this way, and discovered some of my other favorite bands like Anberlin and The Spill Canvas.

Now, without further ado, I’ll share my, personal playlist for my novel, Rising Tide:  Dark Innocence:

Playlist for Rising Tide:  Dark Innocence:

Chapter 1 – “Born Like This” by Three Days Grace

Chapter 2 – “Popular” by The Veronicas & “One of a Kind” by Placebo”

Chapter 3 – “Be My Escape” by Reliant K

Chapter 4 – “Saved” by The Spill Canvas

Chapter 5 – “Broken” by Seether & Amy Lee & “Trouble” by Coldplay

Chapter 6 – “You Make Me Smile” by Blue October

Chapter 7 – “Ordinary Day” by Vanessa Carlton

Chapter 8 – “Vampire” by Antsy Pantsy & “Learn You Inside Out” by Lighthouse

Chapter 9 – “Losing You” by Dead by April & “Lies” by Evanescence

Chapter 10 – “That Song” by Big Wreck & “Bleed (I Must be Dreaming)” by Evanescence

Chapter 11 – “Conspiracy” by Paramore

Chapter 12 – “Fever Dreams” by Dashboard Confessional & “Life on Earth” by Band of Horses & “Almost Lover” by A Fine Frenzy

Chapter 13 – “One Year Six Months” by Yellowcard

Chapter 14 – “Lovesick Mistake” by Erin McCarley

Chapter 15 – “Bleeding Heart” by Acceptance

Chapter 16 – “Hurt Me” by Aiden

Chapter 17 – “All I Ever Wanted” by Adrian Lux

CHOSEN AS ONE OF 400 FOR THE SECOND ROUND OF THE AMAZON BREAKTHROUGH NOVEL AWARD FOR 2014!!!

ARE YOU A FAN OF VAMPIRE ROMANCE?

Rising Tide will sink it’s teeth into you, keeping you awake into the wee hours of the night

Maura’s life just can’t get any worse…or can it?

Isolated and sheltered by her lonely mother, Maura’s never been the best at making friends. Unusually pale with a disease-like aversion to the sun, she seems to drive her classmates away, but why?

Even her own father deserted her, and her mother, before Maura was born. Bizarre physical changes her mother seems hell bent on ignoring, drive Maura to fear for her own life. And her luck just seems to get worse.

Life is about to become even more bewildering when her mother’s abrupt…and unexplained…decision to move a country away sets off a chain of events that will change Maura forever. A cruel prank turned deadly, the discovery of love and friendship….and its loss, as well as a web of her own mother’s lies, become obstacles in Maura’s desperate search for a truth she was never prepared to uncover.

Featured on one of the most popular health blogs on the internet as a giveaway!

Be sure to check out the blog on Maria Mind Body Health to win a free copy today! Go to Mariamindbodyhealth.com and check out the blog Chicken “Wild Rice” Soup for your chance to win!

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Genre – YA Paranormal Romance

Rating – PG

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Connect with Claudette Melanson on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://claudettemelanson.wix.com/author

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@JR_Tague on Things She Had Known Before Writing Her First Book #YA #Fiction #AmReading

1) You always re-write the beginning pages.

Before I even had a plot for Leveling Up, I wrote the first two pages. They were basically Max introducing himself and telling the reader what he was about. When I finally had a story to go with those pages, I got a lot of positive feedback on them.

Then I went to a writer’s conference and learned in one of my first workshops that the first pages always get scrapped or re-written. I thought I’d be the exception. I’m a painfully slow, careful writer, which certainly has its drawbacks. But the positive of that is that I usually have a lot less editing to do later.

When I finished my first draft, I hired a developmental editor to help me get my story in shape for querying. And guess where we focused the majority of our efforts? ON THE OPENING. It was hard to admit that I wasn’t special. But it made sense. When you write the first few pages of your novel, you’re just starting to feel out your characters and settings. You’re just finding the story’s narrative voice. That makes those pages very important. And very special. But, as my editor pointed out, they were just for me. Once I had my narrator’s voice, I had it. I could use it to craft an opening that set up the proper expectations for the novel, and the work would be stronger for it.

2) Writing the middle is the hardest part and you’ll feel like giving up.

I was at about 30k words when I ran out of outline for my first novel. I knew from the beginning that Leveling Up was going to be a series, so I’d envisioned the first book as an introduction to my character and the issues he’d be struggling with throughout the series. Thing is, that’s not enough plot for an entire novel—even a shorter YA novel. I only had half a book and felt completely lost and discouraged. It was such a relief later when I learned that it’s a common problem amongst writers. Middles are just hard. But once you get past them, it gets easier again.

3) Trust your characters

I tend to spend a lot of time thinking about my characters and getting a vague, misty idea of what their stories are, before I ever start writing. So by the time I’m into the plot, I expect to have a good idea of who they are and what they’re all about. But often they surprise me. They want to do things I don’t expect from them. They have reactions and emotions I didn’t think they would. It almost feels like a betrayal at first. But I think it’s actually a great sign. It means they’re realistic.

4) Nobody wants to hear about your book while you’re writing it. But everyone wants to hear about how it’s doing once you’ve published it.

Hearing about another person’s work in progress, unless you’re an extremely good friend (which I’m fortunate enough to have), is super painful. Maybe not as bad as listening to someone’s weird-ass dream, but similar. Even once we’ve completed a draft, it’s difficult for most of us to come up with tag lines and an “elevator pitch” (one-sentence summation of the book). When we’re in the middle of a novel, it’s very hard to narrow it down. We’re too embroiled in the intricacies of the plot. Therefore I don’t blame anyone for not wanting to hear me yammer on about it.

It’s just that for me, that’s the exciting part—getting the story down. But once it’s published, it’s a real thing to other people. They are excited for you, and proud, and happy, and so supportive. And that’s when they want to know how it’s doing. Are sales good? Is feedback positive? What are you doing to promote it? Those are all extremely valid questions and they are coming from a good place. Buuuuut, I always want to answer that the book is done. I finished it years ago, in fact. I still love it and care about it and yes, of course I am trying to make sure it does well. But my head’s already in book two.

5) That it’s like having homework. Forever.

Writing isn’t a hobby; it’s a job. It was easier to lie about that when I was writing my first novel. Because any aspirations I had for it were kept secret, even from myself, for a long time. It was just something I was kind of working on, and I’d just see how it went.

But once I got serious about it, once I started thinking about the sequels and signing book deals, and coming up with other, unrelated series to write as well, that’s when I knew it had me. I was committed. There wouldn’t be just this one trilogy, there’d be other stories. There’d be other multi-book sagas to write. And before I knew it, it wasn’t a choice anymore. The stories had found me and I had to write them.

Max McKay gets a second chance at life when, after a bizarre accident on his sixteenth birthday, he is reanimated as a new breed of thinking, feeling zombie. To secure a spot for his eternal soul, Max must use his video game prowess as well as the guidance of Steve the Death God to make friends and grow up. As if all that weren’t hard enough, Max discovers that he’s not the only zombie in town. As he enlists the help of his new friends, Adam and Penny, to solve the mystery of their un-dead classmate, Max discovers that he must level up his life experience in order to survive the trials and terrors of the upcoming zombie apocalypse. And, even worse, high school.

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Genre – YA

Rating – PG

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Connect with J R Tague on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://jrtague.wordpress.com/

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10 Things You Didn’t Know About @EileenMakysm #GoodReads #YA #Paranormal

1)    Eileen has three siblings: her older half-sister Christine, younger sister Michelle, and younger brother Ben.

2)    She was born in Carbondale, IL, a college town and home to Southern Illinois University, where her parents met.  Her family left Illinois when she was still a baby, and she grew up in Naples, Florida, a city of sharp contrasts: between nature and development, elderly retirees and young families, tourists and residents, the wealthy in million dollar beach front homes and the struggling middle to lower class on the other side of highway 41.

3)    One of her favorite TV shows as a kid was The Mysterious Cities of Gold, an animated show that was a complicated mix of historical and science fiction about three children searching for the eponymous cities during the time of the Conquistadors.  Many of her early stories were basically fanfic for the show!

4)    Growing up, Eileen at times wanted to be a parachutist, an astronaut, a biologist, a lawyer and an actress, but she’s always wanted to be a writer.

5)    During high school she was active in The Naples Players, a local community theater.  She acted in Bye Bye Birdie, Into The Woods, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, and Stop The World, I Want to Get Off, and worked backstage onNunsense and Little Shop Of Horrors.

6)    Eileen went to Yale, where she started off majoring in biology, switched to psychology, then finished up in philosophy.  She was very active in a number of organizations, including Yale Children’s Theater, The Party of the Right, and the Yale Precision Marching Band.  If you’re wondering when she slept, the answer is hardly ever!  She considered three hours to be a decent night’s sleep, and drank a prodigious amount of coffee.

7)    In college, Eileen was also a member of The Anti-Gravity Society, a group that teaches and practices juggling and other circus arts.  She learned how to juggle balls, clubs, knives and torches, crack a bullwhip, and breathe and swallow fire.  The latter two came in handy for the group’s yearly Fire Show on Halloween.

8)    Eileen stage managed a number of plays as an undergrad, including a production of The Tempest  that was staged at the university’s olympic-sized swimming pool.  Her favorite production was of her favorite play,Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead by Tom Stoppard.  She’s very proud of that production, and thinks it was worth the symbolic logic class she flunked that semester.

9)    Eileen has a Masters Degree in Theology from Weston Jesuit School of Theology (which is now the theology school at Boston College).  Her concentration was Theological Ethics, and she had a particular interest in the problem of suffering.

10) Eileen loves animals!  Growing up she had cats, a dog, parakeets, a chicken, ducks, a rabbit, and a truly ridiculous number of guinea pigs.  Currently she has a dog named Blaze and a 19-year-old cat named Jane.  Both are rescue animals: Blaze came to the family from a kind woman who rescued her off the side of the road as a puppy, and Jane has been with Eileen since her junior year at Yale, when she adopted her from the New Haven Cat Project.

Tara Martin – exceptionally accomplished neurobiology major with a troubled past. Steven Trent – confident political science major with an irresistible attraction to Tara. Paul Stratton – history major who is able to hear spirits. Together, they make up the Society for Paranormal Researchers at their prestigious New England University. When they’re not in class or writing papers, the three friends are chasing their passion….ghosts.

When the group learns of a local retired couple trying to sell a house they claim is haunted, they decide to investigate. As the clues unfold, a familiar spirit interrupts their investigation and Tara finds her life in danger. Can her friends save her before it’s too late?

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Genre – YA paranormal, NA paranormal

Rating – PG-13

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Connect with Eileen Maksym on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://eileenmaksym.wordpress.com/

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10 Tips for Better Writing from #Fantasy #Author @JoshVanBrakle #WriteTip #AmWriting

Writing is a craft, one you can hone with time and effort. There are lots of suggestions out there for how to improve your writing. As a published author, here are ten I try to remember:

1. Read aloud

When you edit (you do edit, right?), read aloud. It will slow you down and help you spot mistakes. If you stumble over a passage, rewrite it. Odds are your readers will stumble over it too.

2. Write every day

I know how hard it is to find time to write. I work a day job in addition to writing The Dragoon Saga. But if you really want to write, then write something every day. Even if it’s only one page, one paragraph, or one sentence, it’s progress.

3. Research

Study whatever you’re writing about. Study setting, time period, architecture, fashion, and food. The more believable you can make the details, the more they’ll fade into the background and let readers become engrossed in your story.

4. Read about writing

There are some great resources for writers. I recommend William Zinsser’s On Writing Well, Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird, and of course, Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style. Read them and return to them often.

5. Find a mentor

You can read about writing, but to really excel, it helps to have a mentor, an experienced author who can help you identify where you’re weak and give you suggestions on how to improve. Look for local art organizations and libraries that may sponsor writing workshops and plan to attend them.

6. Obsess over details

Everything matters in a book, so this is one time to sweat the small stuff. When you edit, remember that there’s no word that isn’t worth slaving over and getting exactly how you want it.

7. Carry a notepad

Ideas come at the worst times. Mine favor when I’m falling asleep, taking a shower, and driving. If you don’t capture ideas when they come, you’ll forget them by the time you can write them down. Always carry a notepad or some other tool to record your inspirations. Most will be junk, but the few gems you find will vastly improve your writing.

8. Write about your characters

What do your characters like to eat? Where do they hang out? Who are their friends? What do they own? Have a character sheet for each character, and record these details. You probably won’t use this text in a story, but referring to it will help keep you focused on who your characters really are.

9. Read awesome books

Before you can write, you need to read. Whatever genre you want to write in, read great books in it. In fact, read great books in every genre. Whether we like to admit it or not, we learn to write through imitation.

10. Let yourself fail

You will write a lot of junk before you write anything that someone wants to pay money for. Be willing to experiment and fall on your face. Ditch your pride. We learn a lot more from failure than we do from success.

From fantasy author Josh VanBrakle comes an epic new trilogy of friendship, betrayal, and explosive magic. Lefthanded teenager Iren Saitosan must uncover a forgotten history, confront monsters inspired by Japanese mythology, and master a serpentine dragon imprisoned inside a katana to stop a revenge one thousand years in the making.

Lodian culture declares lefthanded people dangerous and devil-spawned, and for Iren, the kingdom’s only known Left, that’s meant a life of social isolation. To pass the time and get a little attention, he plays pranks on the residents of Haldessa Castle. It’s harmless fun, until one of his stunts nearly kills Lodia’s charismatic heir to the throne. Now to avoid execution for his crime, Iren must join a covert team and assassinate a bandit lord. It’s a suicide mission, and Iren’s chances aren’t helped when he learns that his new katana contains a dragon’s spirit, one with a magic so powerful it can sink continents and transform Iren into a raging beast.

Adding to his problems, someone on Iren’s team is plotting treason. When a former ally launches a brutal plan to avenge the Lefts, Iren finds himself trapped between competing loyalties. He needs to figure out who – and how – to trust, and the fates of two nations depend on his choice.

“A fast-paced adventure…led by a compelling cast of characters. Josh VanBrakle keeps the mysteries going.” - ForeWord Reviews

Buy @ Amazon & Smashwords

Genre – YA epic fantasy

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author

Connect with Josh VanBrakle on Twitter

Website www.joshvanbrakle.com

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HEAVYWEIGHT #Excerpt by @MBMulhall #LGBT #YA #GoodReads

Pushing off the car, I duck my head as I walk by.

He grabs my hand. “Thanks again. Really.”

I give him a small smile. “No problem.” I expect him to let go, but he continues to hold on, looking as if he wants to say something but can’t find the words. I raise my eyebrows, silently questioning.

“Umm, you should call… if you want to hang out sometime… over the weekend or something when you’re not working.”

“Okay.” I’m quick to agree.

He smiles again. “Good.” He’s dropped my hand, but I can’t leave yet. It’s his turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I, uhh, can’t call without a phone number.” Gah! I’m asking a guy for his number! I mean… he’s a friend but maybe more? No. No, this is just a friend thing. We’ll hang with his sister and Clay. One big, happy group.

“Oh! Right. Hold on….” He opens his car door and bends to grab something from inside. Mmm, nice ass. I’m quick to look elsewhere before he emerges.

He grabs my hand and pulls it toward him. I try to ignore the little electrical-type shocks his touch is giving me. Clamping a pen in his teeth, he tugs on it, leaving the cap behind, imprisoned by his pearly whites. Turning my hand so it’s palm side up, he starts to write. It tickles a bit as the cool ink sweeps over my skin, seeping into my pores, creating a temporary numerical tattoo. When he finishes, he spits the cap into his hand before putting it back on the pen. I inspect the bleeding edges of the number he’s inscribed on my skin. I recite it back to him to make sure I can read it.

“That’s it,” he says with a grin. “Put it in your phone before that shower. Otherwise I’ll be mad you made me waste my ink.” Rolling my eyes, I promise to do as he says. He leans against his car as he watches me travel up the walk in front of my house. Once on the porch, I turn and give a little wave. He nods before rounding the car to get in. As I enter the house, I wonder why he waited for me to get to the door before leaving. Could he have been checking me out as I walked away? Nahhh….

Secrets. Their weight can be crushing, but their release can change everything—and not necessarily for the better. Ian is no stranger to secrets. Being a gay teen in a backwater southern town, Ian must keep his orientation under wraps, especially since he spends a lot of time with his hands all over members of the same sex, pinning their sweaty, hard bodies to the wrestling mat.

When he’s trying not to stare at teammates in the locker room, he’s busy hiding another secret—that he starves himself so he doesn’t get bumped to the next weight class.

Enter Julian Yang, an Adonis with mesmerizing looks and punk rocker style. Befriending the flirtatious artist not only raises suspicion among his classmates, but leaves Ian terrified he’ll give in to the desires he’s fought to ignore.

As secrets come to light, Ian’s world crumbles. Disowned, defriended, and deserted by nearly everyone, Ian’s one-way ticket out of town is revoked, leaving him trapped in a world he hates—and one that hates him back.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - LGBT, YA

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author

 Connect with MB Mulhall on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://keystrokesandwordcounts.wordpress.com/

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Peter Simmons and the Vessel of Time by @RamzArtso

Michael - Chapter 1 -

New York City, October 22nd, Nighttime Hours

The gutters of the megalopolis gurgled softly. Pounding sheets of rain washed down the darkened, sewage-stinking pavement as I scrambled silently for cover. Finding none, I rolled over on my back, doing the very best to steady the constant rhythm of my burning lungs.

‘Well, well, well,’ taunted my assailant. The sound of his glistening Italian shoes breached my ears. My bleeding nose detected the stench of his cigarette’s burning tobacco. There was no need to use my special abilities to know that he carried a loaded gun in his gloved hand. ‘What am I to do with you, Michael?’

It was a rhetorical question. Both of us knew perfectly well what it was that he planned to do. What Victor had been sent to do.

He kicked aside a heap of malodorous refuse matter.

‘It’s a pity that you and I have to end our friendship on such an ugly note, Mikey. Really is. I wish you would make this easier on yourself and disclose the location of those flipping documents. But you’re one of those die-hard types. You always have been. I can ply you with questions all night long, but I won’t get to hear a single word out of your mouth, will I?’

Concentrating hard, I tuned out his voice, summing up the last reserves of my strength as I did so. Although it was immensely difficult, considering my horrid physical condition, I managed to glance into the future for a few short seconds.

Nothing there.

Nothing to help me trick death or buy time, Only Victor leveling the gun to my head and squeezing the trigger. Nothing could be done to ameliorate the situation.

My heart accelerated with his every nearing step. Every cell in my body was fraught with rising alarm.

Click.

His golden lighter made a faint sound as he flicked away a cigarette and lit another. A crooked grin spread below his pencil thin moustache. He chuckled to himself, euphorically inhaling the poisonous fumes. He was going to enjoy this.

‘Ah, what a pity,’ he said dramatically. Victor had always been an artist. Since the moment we’d met, I had always opined that he would have been better off freelancing as a dramaturge. ‘This is my last one. I guess I’ll just have to get some more on the way back.’ He crumpled up the empty pack of smokes and chucked it away carelessly.

I knew that I was running out of time. Before Victor was done having his last cancer stick I would most definitely be dead. He took a long drag, carefully and patiently attaching a custom-made silencer to his deadly revolver. He made sure to take his time, savoring every moment.

Click.

This time it was him unlocking the safety catch on his handgun.

That damned revolver had always been his only weapon of choice, the reason probably being that it left no shell casings at the crime scene.

Pure panic washed over me, my mind began to race, injecting fresh waves of adrenaline into my veins. I commanded my exhausted brain to foresee the future. But again, all I managed to extract was a gloved finger pulling at a smooth, vicious trigger.

‘Not trying to play your little tricks on me, are you, Mikey-boy?’ Victor asked. He sounded like he had just caught a small child red-handed in the process of stealing candy. I still didn’t answer, trying to look past the barrel of his gun in order to grasp something, anything which would help me escape the dratted lunatic.

In my mind’s eye, I foresaw a black feral cat scamper across the dirty, empty alley where I lay and Victor sneered. It appeared to be headed our way, looking to scavenge the nearby scuffed garbage cans for food residue. Somewhere in the immediate vicinity, an angry, severely inebriated derelict mishandled his one and only bottle of wine. It slipped from his hands and exploded all over the cold pavement just like a child’s water balloon. Then police sirens undulated in the night, but they were too far off to safely see me out of the quagmire that I found myself in.

My heart sank like a stone at that realization.

All of those readings were useless. With an aching head and unsteady hands, I was about to withdraw and accept defeat, when it suddenly dawned on me exactly how I had to act in order to turn the tables on Victor. Working under pressure, my mind quickly concocted a course of action that couldn’t even be called a plan, for its multiple flaws and drawbacks. All I needed was a touch of good fortune, which was a gamble, really, as I seemed to be out of luck for the day. Victor’s deadly revolver was a testimony to that.

Pulling it off would be a long shot, but despair galvanized me into action. I hesitated a tenth of a second, then filled my chest with air and yelled as loud and cheerily as possible. ‘Money! Money falling from the sky! I can’t believe this! Hundred dollar bills! Lots of them! They are everywhere!’

Victor’s bushy, raven-black eyebrows knitted together in confusion. ‘What? What the heck are you saying? Have you gone mad with fright?’

‘Money! Lots and lots of cash!’ I kept shouting zealously, perhaps sounding like a complete moron, which I dearly hoped only added realism to the note of exuberance in my voice.

‘Good God, man, pull yourself together and summon enough courage to die with dignity!’

My trick had worked.

The homeless drunk I had previsioned came careening into the alley, with a hopeful, out-of-this world expression on his smeared, bulldog-ish face.

‘Wha?’ he demanded.

‘Hundred dolla bills?’ He looked around quizzically, tucking away tufts of disheveled hair behind a pair of begrimed ears, and expecting a heavy shower of promised cash.

‘Where? Where’s the money?’ His eyes glinted with recognition and reason at the unexpected sight of Victor’s gun. Victor, without thinking twice, pulled the trigger before the man had even managed to fully lift his hands in a defensive gesture.

The silencer flashed, whistled and disembogued a trail of white smoke into the dank air. The wino stumbled forward, legs all rickety, one hand clutching at the expanding stain on his grungy old jacket, and the other greedily wrapped around the half-empty bottle of alcohol. With a bloody cough, he fell face forward, shattering the long-neck into glittering slivers and several larger fragments of sharp glass, in close proximity to where I lay sprawled on my back. Victor sneered, the police sirens came into life, probably chasing down some juvenile delinquent–the city never slept. It was an improbable stroke of luck, but the black tramp cat from my recent vision produced a loud yowl, and acted in exact accordance with my calculations. It was scared off a large, silver trashcan by the sound of the breaking bottle, and during its blind flight, had managed to get itself tangled up in between Victor’s feet. Caught by complete surprise, Victor lowered his gun to execute the unexpected guest, not a dreg of pity in his dark eyes.

Using the distraction to my advantage, I snatched the biggest shard of dark, shattered glass glinting close-at-hand and jumped to my feet. With my arm stretched out before me, I accelerated right into Victor like greased lightning. Overcome by a blinding surge of energy as well as the natural instinct of survival, I slashed at his stomach, instantly splitting it open. His neck cords strained and his face became a mottle of red and white shreds as he tried to raise his armed hand for protection, but I grabbed it with my own, and drove the sharp glass into his shoulder.

He misfired a couple of rounds and cried out in pain. The formal black fedora, which had been nestled on his head at a rakish angle, seesawed to the ground in a manner analogous to a falling feather. He himself sagged to his knees, shivering spasmodically as if from ague. For one brief moment, I stared down at him, my bloody hands and the defunct vagrant’s face, which was frozen in a horrible rictus of stunned horror. Being caught up in the moment, I seriously contemplated administering the coup de grace. But then my anger simmered down, and I reevaluated my thoughts, deciding that Michael Fleming wasn’t a murderer. At least, not yet.

My heart thumped with shock, every muscle in my body trembled, every nerve in my system burned. I dropped my makeshift weapon, then doubled back and turned around before floundering over to a concrete wall. I felt sick and waited for the nausea to pass. Once that was out of the way, I broke into a sudden and purposeful sprint. I left the dark alley running like a madman through the driving rain, never daring to look back.

I was worn out, but there was still some urgent business I needed to attend to. And time was of the essence. A person’s life was at stake. All that stood between them and eternal rest was me, and on the dot punctuality.

However, the person in question had no idea of the impending threat to their life.

Peter Simmons thinks he is an ordinary boy, before he is abducted by a man with certain special abilities, learns of his inescapable destiny, befriends immortals and becomes famous wordlwide. Why? Because Peter Simmons is mankind’s last hope for survival.

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Genre – Young-adult, Action and Adventure, Coming of Age, Sci-fi

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author and the book

Connect with  Ramz Artso on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://ramzartso.blogspot.com/

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Doubt (Among Us Trilogy) by Anne-Rae Vasquez @write2film #amongus #YA #paranormal

Kerim’s hand found its way to her knee.

Cristal leaped up from her seat, and her arms were flailing up to push Kerim away, which knocked Gabriel sideways as he was just entering the room. The tray of coffee mugs slipped from his hands onto the table and sent boiling coffee onto Kerim’s lap and her computer.

“Hey! Take it easy, man!” Kerim cried out.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gabriel shouted.

He reached out and grabbed the box of tissues from the table. Kerim stood up, coffee dripping down from his pants to the carpet.

“You are both insane!” Cristal snapped while pulling the tissue box from Gabriel’s hand.

“Hey, I need those,” Kerim said.

He reached out for the box.

Cristal pulled the box away, taking a handful of tissues and wiping the sticky brown mess off her computer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Gabriel’s fists clenched. This is crazy.

“You know, you’re a real jerk,” Gabriel growled.

“What did you say?” Kerim asked in a quiet voice.

“Oh, you heard what I said,” Gabriel said, his eyes blazing.

He lunged towards Kerim, swinging at him. Kerim smoothly turned his body avoiding the punch. He grabbed Gabriel by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cristal mumbled to herself.

She noticed that her hands had started to shake. Oh, not again! She needed to get out of there soon. She grabbed her laptop and backpack.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel asked with his hand still locked behind his back.

“Where are you going?” Kerim added, letting Gabriel’s arm go.

She stopped and whirled around to face them.

“I don’t have time for this, whatever this is. We need to finish the mission and obviously you two want to arm wrestle.”

Her hands were still shaking.

Do you love shows like J.J. Abrams' Fringe and read books like Cassandra Clare's City of Bones?

"Doubt" mashes fringe science, corporate espionage and paranormal encounters to catapult you into an out-of-this-world experience.

At 21 years old, Harry and Cristal are fresh out of university with their PhD's. Labeled all their lives as being 'weird' and 'geeky', they find true friendships with other outcasts by playing online virtual reality games.

Harry Doubt, a genius programmer and creator of the popular online game 'Truth Seekers', has a personal mission of his own; to find his mother who went mysteriously missing while volunteering on a peacekeeping mission in Palestine. His gaming friends and followers inadvertently join in helping him find her; believing that they are on missions to find out what has happened to their own missing loved ones. During Harry's missions, Cristal and the team of 'Truth Seekers' stumble upon things that make them doubt the reality of their own lives. As they get closer to the truth, they realize that there are spiritual forces among them both good and evil, but in learning this, they activate a chain of events that start the beginning of the 'end of the world' as they know it.

Doubt is Book 1 of the Among Us Trilogy. Among Us is a book series which delves into the world of the supernatural and how it intersects with the everyday lives of seemingly ordinary young people as catastrophic events on earth lead to the end of times. Among Us weaves the theme of a young man and woman, who while not fully understanding their 'abilities', are drawn together in their desire to find out the truth about the world they live in which is similar to themes used in J.J. Abrams' TV shows Fringe and Lost.

What readers have to say...

As a big fan of the show Fringe, this book appealed to me tremendously. The writing was well done, and the way the "supernatural" forces were introduced was great.

A good, clean read for any age.

It was an excellent story that I'm sure both adult and teen urban fantasy fans will enjoy. You don't have to be a gamer or know one to identify with the characters. They're very well developed and definitely feel like people. I would definitely recommend it to a friend and I'm really looking forward to the second book.

...the novel is written in such a languid style, it moves on effortlessly and absorbs the reader into the story completely. Although the story itself revolves around the online gaming industry, one does not have to have an in depth knowledge as it is ably explained and discussed within the plot line.
OMGosh! I just finished reading "Doubt" INCREDIBLE! I couldn't put it down.

˃˃˃ >>> Depth and Substance mashed up with Fringe Science. Will entertain young and old alike.

This book is intended for mature young adults and new adults. Ages 16 to 45 +

˃˃˃ >>Inspired by real Truth Seekers Aaron Swartz and Harry Fear

The main character Harry Doubt was inspired by Aaron Swartz, internet prodigy and activist, co-founder of the Creative Commons and Reddit, and Harry Fear, journalist, documentary filmmaker and activist whose coverage of the conflict in the Middle East was seen on UStream by millions of viewers.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - Young Adult, Paranormal, Science Fiction, Thriller

Rating – G

More details about the author

Connect with Anne-Rae Vasquez on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://amongus.ca

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