Monday and The Korat

Good day to you. I trust your Monday is quick and painless.
It's cat day at Night Writers. I'm blogging on the Karat. If you're in the vicinity stop by and say hey. If not and you're a cat person, take a quick peek at the video. This is a fascinating cat.

VBT: Wisteria & Myopia

BLURB for Wisteria:

Sixteen year old Wisteria Kuti has two options—track the infected around the Isle of Smythe or leave the only known safe haven and face a world infested with flesh eating biters. But even with well-armed trackers, things go wrong and Wisteria ends up alone facing certain death, until she is rescued by the mysterious Bach. Uninfected, Bach is able to survive among the hordes of living dead.

Eighteen year old Bach, from a race known as The Family, has no interest in human affairs. He was sent here to complete his Great Walk and return home as a man—as a Sen Son. The Family regard humans as Dirt People, but Bach is drawn to this Terran girl, whom he has never seen before, but somehow knows. 

Hunted by flesh eaters, cannibals, and the mysterious blood thirsty group called Red Phoenix, Wisteria and Bach make their way back to the Isle of Smythe, a community built on secrets and lies.

BLURB for Myopia:

Sixteen-year-old Wisteria has embraced her deep bond with eighteen-year-old Bach, a member of a supernatural race called the Family, despite the risk of his family finding out. Should Bach’s people discover his bond with a human, Wisteria will be guaranteed a painful and bloody death—but somehow, being together is more important.

Their bond is tested when empirics, an elite group of Family investigators, are sent to the Isle of Smythe under the orders of Bach’s father to find artifacts stolen by the humans. They’re to find the artifacts at any cost. Among the empirics is Bach’s old friend, the stunning Alba, who has learned about Bach and Wisteria’s secret relationship, and surprisingly accepts this. With no one else in the Family to turn to, she becomes Bach’s ally and confidant, but possibly more.

As the empirics start to take over the town, Wisteria is torn between trusting Bach and the safety of the humans on Smythe. She soon realizes that she and Bach are on opposite sides of the war between the Family and Humans, and there is no middle ground. One of them must choose a side.

Excerpt:

Thirteen months after the first official case of Nero Disease

“Wisteria, run!” Rebecca O’Leary screamed over the radio.

Wisteria Kuti whipped around and came face-to-face with the blood-red eyes of a hungry flesh-eating biter. The biter was a man, infected by Nero Disease, who had long lost his mind. He looked more animal than human and he wanted one thing—to feed on the flesh of uninfected people. The biter growled and staggered toward Wisteria.

She fled down the deserted road to the nearest house. The front door was locked. She kicked at the door, but it didn’t open. Taking out her handgun, she smashed through the window of the door.

“Ugh,” more biters growled behind her.

She spun around, fired once, and hit one in the head. She unlocked the door by reaching in and turning the lock. Once inside, she chained and bolted the door.

Crash—a biter smashed through another window into the house.

Wisteria’s heart jumped and she darted up the stairs as fast as she could.

“Get out of the house, Wisteria!” Rebecca radioed.

I’m trying.

A biter grabbed her ankle as she ran. Falling hard on the steps, she wailed in pain. “Ah.” No time to cry, Wisteria. She fired at the biter holding her. One bullet left.

Three more biters appeared below and started coming up the stairs. Leaping up, she sprinted to the top floor and dashed into the first open doorway that led to the master bedroom. Locking the door, she headed straight for the window.

The infected clawed at the door, tearing it apart and snarling as they entered

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Bisi Leyton was born in East London in 1978. She grew up in London, Nigeria and the States, listening to the stories life and love from aunts, cousins and big sisters.She lives in London, but has worked around Europe including France, Germany, Ireland, Belgium and the Czech Republic. She has a fondness for reading graphic novels.

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/Wisteriabooks

Current Blog: http://bisileyton.blogspot.com/

http://www.goodreads.com/Bisileyton

BookTrailer:
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_TWuWK_bbY&feature=context-cha

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvC9iJckrs4&feature=context-cha

 

Free Paranoia short story for anyone who signs up on my mailing list (from Smashwords)

Kindle Fire: Currently running a Kindle Fire giveaway on my blog till November 30, 2012

Is It Spring Yet?

Apparently, these little guys aren't willing to wait for spring. We discovered them over the weekend.
I just tossed in the pic of the Holly tree because I like it:) We didn't have Holly in the Midwest. Even after thirteen years in the south, it's still a novelty for me.

2013 Superbowl Ads

Did you see these? How cute.

SBB:Wind's Aria

BLURB:

Aria falls into the hands of the dreaded angel who seems to have stolen more than her voice . . .

Excerpt:

 “Who are you?”

He pushed further back into the shadows as she strode closer. “Someone you need not know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

When he didn’t answer, she sighed.

“What a strange, terrible day,” she mumbled. “Well, at least tell me your name . . .”

He stood, speechless, knowing he shouldn’t be there at all—conversing with a Meleyan—especially not their musical deliverer that he was set to doom the day after tomorrow.

A peculiar grumbling interrupted her insistence, to his relief.

“Sorry.” She patted her stomach. He could see, even in the blackened night, how her face turned a deeper shade of red than her hair. “I’ve forgotten to eat. I guess I’m hungrier than I realized.”

He plucked an apple from the tree he’d nearly become a part of and held it out to her. The girl approached tentatively. She reached for the fruit but recoiled when her fingers brushed his.

“Is touching me so horrible?” he asked.

Her jaw dropped open and her delicate brow furrowed. She inclined her head. “It . . . hurt.”

“How?” he asked, for her fingers felt good to him, soothing. Warm. He wanted to try again.

“I don’t know how to explain . . .”

“Hum.” Unsatisfied with the answer, he tossed the apple to her and watched as she crunched her teeth into it.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

A veteran of the performing arts and worldwide missions, Tessa Stockton also contributed as a writer/editor for ministry publications, ghostwriter for political content, and she headed a column on the topic of forgiveness. Today she writes romance and intrigue novels in a variety of genres. In addition to her fantasy romance, WIND’S ARIA, she’s the author of suspense/thriller, THE UNSPEAKABLE, political intrigue/romance, THE UNFORGIVABLE, and a literary short story, LOVE AND LULL, with more in the works.

 www.TessaStockton.com

 https://twitter.com/TessaStockton

 https://www.facebook.com/tessastockton

Purchase links:

 TBD

 
 Tessa will be awarding a $50 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during this tour and her reviews tour.

The tour dates can be found here:

http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2012/12/virtual-super-book-blast-winds-aria-by.html

VBT:The Ruby Curse

I asked Makayla to tell us why Violet is in prison… that’s quite the story, actually. Here’s the story as the people within “the Ruby Curse” know it:

Before the events of “The Ruby Curse”, Violet was serving as a mechanic’s assistant on the S.S. Hindrance, one of the most prestigious airships in the queen’s air navy. Her job mainly consisted of passing the ship mechanic any tools he needed and doing the grunt work that was below him. The mechanic was an ugly man, appearing to be twelve times larger than Violet’s meager one hundred and eight pounds. The straps on his grease stained overalls strained against his immense girth and he walked with a kind of penguin waddle. Of course that was only when he did move. Too much movement put a strain on his lungs and made him break out into a cold sweat, so needless to say he stayed down in the engine room and sent Violet to the upper decks to bring him his meals.

Despite being the mechanic’s peon, Violet had always been the one in control. Had the mechanic known what kind of person was working alongside him, taking his abuse, he might’ve been a little more inclined to be nicer to her.

Everything started one night after the mechanic had gone to sleep on the cot he had in the engine room. No one knows what made the day prior any different than the others. The mechanic’s cruelty to Violet was no more and no less than usual, and her workload hadn’t been lightened or had more added onto it. Everything had been just as it was every other day, but that night things took a turn for the worst. That night Violet butchered the mechanic in his sleep and was found early that morning drenched in blood sitting before the furnace throwing the mechanic’s severed arms and legs into the furnace.

And this is the story of her escape:

She spent six months in Erabium, the highest maximum security prison in Arcova and the purgatory where damned souls go to await the final judgment. As one of the only women in Erabium, Violet was the object of abuse and torment; which she returned tenfold on anyone who dared to attack her. Someone like Violet had no choice but to thrive in an environment where violence and madness reigned.

Of all the people who found themselves marching those hallowed halls, dressed in their prison jumpsuits, Violet was the only one to ever escape. On the night she decided she’d had enough, Violet waited until after lights out before sneaking out of her bed and hiding under it until a Defendron-9 rolled by. She got its attention by throwing a spoon she’d stolen from the cafeteria while the guards were busy trying to break up a brawl. When it stopped to try and identify what had made the meek little clunk noise against the metal floor, Violet knocked the Defendron over and stole its keys while its sirens were going off and the other guards were being alerted.

As she unlocked her door and ran across the length of the upper rim of the prison to escape the guards, she hit the button that unlocked the other cells, filling the prison with inmates to buy her enough time to make an escape. While the guards were busy fighting off any immediate threats, Violet dove out the back door that the dwarf maids used to bring in and take out the cart that carried all the guards’ dirty laundry and snuck around the perimeter until she found a manhole leading down into a sewer. She crawled into it and followed the sewer until she reached a pipe spewing thick green liquid out into the hot desert sand. The moment Violet put her feet on the shifty, white sand, she was free.

 Like I said, this is the story as reported to the people within “the Ruby Curse” world. Is this the true story? No one but Violet knows. 

BLURB:

Heroes come in all shapes and sizes... though they're not usually escaped convicts. Seventeen-year-old Violet Seymour is the only person to ever escape the highest maximum security prison in the steam-and-clockwork powered nation of Arcova. She is also a link in an ancient bloodline of heroes. When mages start going missing, Violet is the only person who can find them.

Excerpt:

I gripped the bars, feeling the subtle serration in the slick metal. Slowly I took in a deep breath of air, sticky with the summer heat, and released it slowly and with great focus. Nothing else mattered but the almost painful constriction of my lungs beneath my ribcage.

A supernatural warmth rushed over me, riding on the back of each breath. I felt it soaking my muscles and my blood. It was euphoric.

Bones snapped mercilessly under my skin. They shifted and twisted and grew. I bit on the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming, but ended up drawing blood instead.

My fingernails grew slowly, sharpening until they were four small knives slicing my palm open. Blood flowed freely down the length of my hand. I knew that strange, warm wetness anywhere. It dribbled off my wrists and onto the floor.

Hot wind pressed against my face — or maybe my temperature was rising. The flames of Hell licked my face, jarring my consciousness awake to the sensation of cold moisture beading my face like dew. I focused on it—obsessed over it. Keeping aware of it kept my mind tethered to where I was and what I was doing. If I ever let my mind wander too far…

­­­One feeling always begets another. When each breath became a labored chore and I felt my shoulders grinding together, separating and morphing my tiny frame into something else entirely, I yelled and my eyes flew open.

Author Bio and Links:

Makayla Yokley is a college student who lives in Kansas with her somewhat evil cat named Cujo. She likes to write fiction of all genres. Currently she is majoring in Liberal Arts.

Where to find me:

(Fan page on Facebook) http://www.facebook.com/pages/Makayla-Yokley/231164716982029

(Blog) http://www.theforgotten-kingdom.webs.com/

Buy a copy of “The Ruby Curse” at:

(Paperback and Kindle)http://www.amazon.com/The-Ruby-Curse-Makayla-Yokley/dp/1479117471/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_t_1

(Nook) http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/206917

   

Makayla will award a free digital copy of The Ruby Curse via Smashwords to one commenter at every stop.

The tour dates can be found here:

http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2012/12/virtual-book-tour-ruby-curse-by-makayla.html

Booty Magnets

Have you ever noticed those booty magnets in your favorite recliner?You go to get up and gravity pulls you back down. You try again and then give an 'Oh what the heck, it's not worth the effort' and sink back down to either sleep or channel surf.

My theory: there's a hidden surcharge in the price of the furniture that the manufacturer doesn't tell you about.  He just slips in the magnets and charges for them.
Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Enjoy your weekend. Hope to see you in cyberland Monday.  And yes that's the baby girl back when she was a baby.