Stories for the Young and the Young At Heart!

www.pennystales.com

Saturday, November 22, 2014

The Unwanted Christmas Guest on SALE!

99 cents (until December 1)

Elizabeth McMurphy is an up and coming high powered attorney and is after vengeance, involving one of the richest and most powerful families in Colorado. Steve York is an obnoxious reporter that thinks the ice queen has gone too far and does all he can to get under her skin.

When one of the worst blizzards in history, hits CO and leaves a hurt Steve York, stranded with Elizabeth in a mountain cabin. Things start to heat up between the two, thawing their icy relationship. But - Elizabeth guards a secret that must be kept at all costs, even to the point of risking love and her own happiness.


Excerpt
“What’s going on here? Where the hell are my pants?”
      Elizabeth practically jumped out of her skin. Steve stood in the bedroom doorway, wearing only some tight fitting pink sweats.
“I found you after your car went nose to nose with a tree.” She crossed her arms. “The question is, what were you doing up here in a snowstorm? Were you coming up here to spy on me?”
      “Jesus, my head hurts.” Steve groaned and sat at the kitchen table. “And don’t flatter yourself.” He brought up his hands to rub his eyes and push on his temples. He started to say something when a giggle and a round of undistinguishable sounds caught his attention. Steve stared at the little girl, a whisper of a smile on his pale face. “You have a daughter?”
      She chose to ignore the question. “Again, Mr. York, you were headed…where?”
      “I was going to see some friends in Granby, then on to Steamboat to spend the holidays with my family.”
      “You figured on taking a short cut on Badger Springs Road?”
      “Basically,” he muttered. “I had a phone in my pants pocket…” Steve looked down at the pink sweats. “Yours, I presume?” At her nod, he asked with a smirk, “And you’re the one that took my clothes off?”
      “Junior, my neighbor.”
      “If you’ll allow me to use your phone, I’ll call Triple A and get myself and my car out of your life.” He reached over to Katy and she latched onto his finger, the brightest smile ever illuminating her sweet face.
Elizabeth quickly picked her up, as if he would contaminate her by his touch.  “Phones are out.”
      “Internet?”
      “Nope.”
      “How the hell do you live here?” he asked irritably.






  
video
 

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Melissa Snark joins me on Penny's Tales



1.  Tell us about your family – married?   Kids?   Where you live!

I'm married to a wonderful man. Mr. Snark is a software engineer. He works for a satellite manufacturer. I have three children: two boys and one girl. My oldest child is fifteen, and he's smart and a reader. My twelve-year-old is much more social, and relies on wits and charm to get by. My daughter is only four, and she's extremely outgoing and friendly.

  1.  If you could travel anywhere in or out of this world, where would it be?

During our honeymoon, my husband I spent two weeks in France. We moved around a lot, but we spent one absolutely dreamy afternoon driving along the Mediterranean coast in a convertible. We started in Cannes, passed through Nice, and turned back before we reached Monaco. If I could go back, I'd love to return to the French Rivera, and just keep driving until we reached Italy.


  1.  What is your favorite all time movie?
        Pulp Fiction. 


  1. What about weekly TV show?  Why?

This tends to vary from season to season. A one point, I'd have sworn that Buffy the Vampire Slayer was my favorite show. A few years later, House reigned as my preferred program. I loved Breaking Bad, and I'm a fan of Supernatural and Grimm. Current fav has to be The Walking Dead.

  1. What is your favorite thing about writing?

My favorite part of writing is the absolute involvement in the story to the point where the entire external world disappears. When a writer is "in the zone", the experience is very similar to being immersed in a really good book. The only difference is the world is a product of your imagination. Writing is such an incredible high. I love it.




Hello! My name is Melissa Snark, and I'm a fantasy and romance author. If I could have a moment of your time, I'd like to ask for your help as a reader. Please consider nominating my Norse folklore fantasy novel Battle Cry on Kindle Scout.


Amazon's new publishing program is called Kindle Scout, an innovative platform that provides readers with a sneak peek at unreleased books as well as the opportunity to have a say in what gets chosen. The timing of Scout was amazing. The announcement came just as I neared completion of my novel. The terms being offered are attractive. As a publisher, Amazon has as much clout as one of the traditional publishers. This simply seemed like too good of an opportunity to pass on, so I submitted Battle Cry for consideration.


Per the FAQ: How does Kindle Scout benefit readers?
Kindle Scout readers get to preview new, never-before-published books and influence which ones are made available to millions of readers on Amazon.
In addition, any time a reader's nomination gets published, they will receive a free copy.


I appreciate your support! To nominate Battle Cry, you only need to be logged into your Amazon account. You can head over to the Kindle Scout website and view Battle Cry's profile page. If you like what you see, please consider voting for Battle Cry. Thank you so much!





BATTLE CRY
Book #2 in the Loki's Wolves series
Melissa Snark
Genre: Norse folklore fantasy
Number of pages: 375 approx.
Word Count: 95,000

Cover Artist: Farah Evers


Tags: #Fantasy #Amreading #Kindle @MelissaSnark

Promo Tweet: One man dares defy Fate. Please nominate BATTLE CRY on #KindleScout. #Fantasy #Norse #amreading @MelissaSnark

Logline: One man dares defy Fate.

Survival demands sacrifices; healing requires forgiveness.

Men revere him; monsters fear him. Jake Barrett, the notorious Hunter King, values loyalty to family and followers above all else. When the daughter of his closest ally murders Daniel, his oldest son, it sets off a chain reaction of violence and destruction that claims the lives of both wolves and hunters. Determined to avenge his son, Jake seeks the truth at any cost.

After losing her lover and then her mate, Victoria Storm simply wants to get on with building a new life in Sierra Pines, California. A vengeful Jake Barrett and his organization aren't going to make that easy, especially with the unwelcome attraction between her and the Hunter King's second son. Perils beyond the mortal coil plague Victoria.

When the Norse Fates predict Victoria will destroy the world, her duties as a priestess of Freya come into conflict with her responsibilities as a Valkyrie of Odin. When they tell her she will do it to save her unborn child, she's not so sure they are wrong.

Sawyer Barrett has been trying to kill Victoria for so long, he doesn't know whether he loves her or hates her. Desperate to end the war, he's willing to take chances with everything–except his heart. The hunter harbors a deadly secret he can't reveal without risking the ceasefire and his life.

At Sawyer's urging, Victoria agrees to peace talks with Jake. All the while, an ancient vampire plots the destruction of wolves and hunters alike. If the embittered rivalry between hunters and wolves doesn't end—and fast—there is no hope for Victoria's pack... or for their world.


Attribution: Norns weaving destiny, by Arthur Rackham (1912). Public domain.



Short excerpt (PG):

Shade enshrouded Skuld, and her voice manifested upon the air, thick and oppressive, closing in from all sides. "Your daughter will not grow to adulthood in Midgard."
Victoria's heart slammed against her breastbone. Her breath expelled in a horrified gust. The bowl dropped from her hands and flew to protect her abdomen. "What do you mean?"
"Your daughter will be taken from you on the eve of her third birthday," Skuld said. "The one you trust most, a member of your own pack, will give the child over to your greatest enemy."
A growl trembled in Victoria's throat, and her entire body shook under the dual assault of fear and rage. The suggestion of betrayal from within her own pack filled her with disbelief to the core of her being. It was unthinkable. Gritting her teeth, she sought a solution, refusing to dwell on it. "How am I to prevent this?"
"We speak of what will come to pass," Verðandi said in a sympathetic tone.
"Your predictions are not carved in stone," Victoria said. Arguing with Fate was a foolish endeavor, but she refused to accept their prophecy.
The old woman, Urðr, smiled with a frightening gleam in her eyes. "Predictions, carved into the trunk of the World Tree, carved into the spiritual fabric of the world."
Stubborn determination settled over Victoria like armor. Her mother had taught her there was no absolute fate, just as there was no absolute free will. Life consisted of a wide range of possibilities between the two extremes. She refused to allow her daughter to die at three years of age. She would move worlds, alter fate, slay gods.
Whatever it took.
"Do you wish to save your child?" Skuld asked.
Victoria answered without thought. "Yes. I'll do anything. Tell me. Please."
"The final days are upon us," Verðandi said.
Skuld took over speaking. "To save your daughter, you will side with Loki against the Aesir. You will use your enchanted dagger to cut the binding of the great wolf Fenrir. You will be responsible for freeing the beast that kills Odin."
Victoria's stomach turned. Her head shook in automatic denial. "When the gods imprisoned Fenrir, my people pledged fealty to the Aesir. We have served them loyally ever since. Even when we were driven from the homeland, almost a millennium ago, we remained faithful. I will never cut Fenrir's bonds. To do so would end the world we live in and doom us all."
Skuld's gaze held steady. "You will."
Victoria snarled her denial. "No. I will never become the servant of the Trickster or willingly take part in bringing about Odin's death."
Skuld turned her head and pinned Victoria with one black eye that rolled in its socket like a liquid marble. "To save your daughter, you will."



Fast Facts About Melissa Snark: 

 

  • Melissa Snark is published with The Wild Rose Press & as an Indie author with five unique titles: A CAT'S TALE, THE MATING GAME, LEARNING TO FLY, THE CHILD THIEF, and HUNGER MOON.
  • Her Loki's Wolves series includes THE CHILD THIEF, HUNGER MOON and BATTLE CRY.
  • She lives in the San Francisco bay area with her husband, three children and a glaring of cats.
  • She is a professional cat herder and unrepentant satirist who blogs about books and writing on The Snarkology.

Connect with Melissa Snark:
Email: melissasnark at gmail.com
Twitter: @MelissaSnark

Battle Cry Kindle Scout Giveaway



1. Nordic Lights Jewels of the Moon Pendant Amulet Talisman for Psychic Ability by Maelstrom Odssonn 
2. (3) Signed Paperbacks of HUNGER MOON
3. (2) $10 Gift Cards to Amazon Rafflecopter

Rafflecopter direct url:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/YjkwNjI0Nzk0NTYxZDE3MDFkNGY3NWJlNDc3MjlmOjEx/

Friday, November 14, 2014

Mariana Gabrielle presents Royal Regards



Genre
Regency romance

Heat Rating
NC-17








Tags
Romance, Regency romance, Royal Regard, Mariana Gabrielle, Mari Christie, @mchristieauthor
 

Buy/Review Links
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/485585
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Royal-Regard-Mariana-Gabrielle-ebook/dp/B00OM3VLCC
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/x/id931771765
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/royal-regard-mariana-gabrielle/1120614726
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/royal-regard
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22732470-royal-regard




Author Bio
Mariana Gabrielle is a pseudonym for Mari Christie, a mainstream historical and Regency romance writer. She is also a professional writer, editor, and graphic designer with twenty years' experience and a Bachelor's in Writing from the University of Colorado Denver, summa cum laude. She lives in Denver, Colorado with two kittens who have no respect at all for writing time.


Social Media 
Website: www.MarianaGabrielle.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MariChristieAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/mchristieauthor
Wordpress blog: http://marichristie.wordpress.com/
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/marichristie/
Amazon Author Central: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B005B3QQ6S
Goodreads Author page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5055425.Mari_Christie

GIVEAWAY
Goodreads Giveaway: https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/114451-royal-regard
Rafflecopter contest: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/MTZlNGJlYWEwMTEyOWNmZTQ1Y2U0ZDU2NWM1MDg0OjI=/


Facebook Launch party Nov. 28, 3-9pm MST, https://www.facebook.com/events/299686360237365/

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

DID YOU KNOW......

Since I have started writing historical western romances, I'm always interested in facts about the old west!  Here is one I just heard about Jesse James and his....uhm....TWO graves!

Jesse James was larger than life—so much that his body required two graves.
Few outlaws were as notorious during their own lifetimes as Jesse James. Though he lived a quiet existence in Kearney, Missouri, after his bank robbing days were over, old friends—and enemies—never forgot him. After Jesse was murdered, he was buried in the front yard of his farm to thwart grave robbers. As the years passed and his enemies died off, he was reinterred in a Kearney cemetery by his family. So who’s that lying in the Jesse James grave in Granbury, Texas? A man named J. Frank Dalton who came forward around 1948, at age 101, claiming he was the “real” Jesse James. A court even allowed him to legally adopt the bandit’s name. No one knows why Dalton made this claim or if he ever had any link to Jesse James, although there is a very small chance he was the youngest member of the Dalton gang James rode with in the bank raid of Northfield, Minnesota. Regardless, mitochondrial DNA showed decades later that James is indeed buried in Mount Olivet Cemetery in Kearney—but his legend also lives on in Granbury.


Jesse's Find - (NOT JESSE JAMES)








“I don’t remember any of it. How can I not remember a tiny
baby? My own baby!”

 

Monday, November 10, 2014

Give the gift of IMAGINATION!

This holiday season, kids will get toys galore!  After the first week some of those toys will be broken, left outside, thrown under the bed, or just plain forgotten about.

If you are like me I am always trying to find a gift, under $10, for stocking stuffers or gifts for nieces, nephews, or grandkids. Why not give them a book.









Something is just not right in old lady Wickware’s seventh grade history class. Weird things are happening and rumors are flying. Students are finding themselves back in time, face to face, with some famous legends and heroes. Word on the street points to Miss Wickware, herself! Is she a witch with magical powers? An alien with a grudge against kids? Or just a sweet old lady with a few tricks up her sleeve?

There are five different stories in The Wickware Sagas.  A few, select, seventh graders will meet William Tell, Francis Scott Key, Molly Pitcher, George Washington, Sybil Ludington, and one will find himself on the Orphan Train!

The million dollar question is how do kids of today end up in centuries gone by, and more to the point, how do they get home?

Print version


Hike Up Devil's Mountain comes in print, audio, and digital





What do you get when one ten-year old boy breaks into the basement of an old abandoned house, that is to be demolished the next day, and finds a mysterious glowing stick? Now add the school bully and his ten-year old brother who also find their way to that basement.  The bully wants that stick!  A fight ensues and that bully is now a toad. 

What you get is a whirlwind adventure of two boys and a toad that have to hike up Devil’s Mountain to find the only person who can help them.

The dangers they meet along the way will keep you turning those pages!  There is a surprise ending you just don’t see coming!
 

If the special child you are buying for has a kindle, all the above stories come in eBook form.  Stop by my author page and see the other stories I have for the kiddos in your life!


 

Those holidays will be here before you know it.  
Buy the gift of imagination without leaving the house!

Friday, November 7, 2014

Book R3vi3w Tour presents Arcadia by Hope Christine

Ever since Sky Captain Lemise Holdif was a boy, he’s been faced with the End of Days. For decades an unknown enemy has been systematically wiping out life in the galaxy, starting with the most advanced societies. Now Arcadia, a world built from the trash of an entire galaxy, is the only planet left capable of distant space travel, and the next target. Lemise is desperate to save his home world, but his plans are interrupted when an alien visitor transports onto his ship.
Lead Specialist Paelae Madison is the last of her kind. The only survivor of the First Attack, and bent on revenge for the destruction of her people. In desperation, she teleports onto an Arcadian ship and offers aid in the coming war. Arcadia sees her as a hero, but Lemise is weary to trust a stranger who’s survived over five hundred previous battles.
Together the two fight to defeat an enemy far more advanced, and far more cunning than Arcadia has ever known. But extinction lurks around every corner, and The Enemy isn’t the only one threatening to destroy the world.


Buy Links:


Take a Peek at Arcadian Culture:

Arcadia is a junkyard planet but it collects more than just broken ships. Before it was a recognized planet, it had been a place of refuge for lost voyagers. Eventually it began to collect people like it collected trashed technology. Some were refugees, others were stranded after running out of money for their journey, and some were simply shunned from their own worlds.

With so many different people there’s a lot of borrowed pieces of culture that has been meshed together to form the Arcadian way of life. For example: they love to refurbish or repurpose technology but it is the highest crime of their court systems to help create or aide in the creation of cyborgs: part human, part technology. Don’t improve what man did not make.

The law developed from their belief that a soul cannot find the World Beyond unless the body is whole. It makes navigating the Field of Stars, a type of purgatory, difficult because a partial soul would have to wait for a whole soul to help guide them. This belief was stolen from the Monks on the planet Maldeen who had a very different lifestyle, rarely traveling into space.

Paelae is the outsider on Arcadia, she comes from a more crisp and clean way of traveling space. It’s like taking Captain Picard and putting him on the Serenity. She has a hard time adjusting to their way of life but as you read it from her perspective you begin to pick up on where all those bits and pieces of Arcadian society came from.

Lemise, who is born on Arcadia and has had little contact with other races (since most just fire at them for scavenging the graves of the dead) sees Paelae’s past life on the Imladian ships as very excessive and wasteful. In this way, as well as others, they tend to clash.

As the story progresses you can really see how Paelae’s and Lemise’s culture begin to shape who they become from a young age. 

Read an Excerpt:

Officers stumbled over each other in preparation for the day ahead. As soon as the first rays of purple sunshine peaked over the city, a line had started to form for the bathrooms, and Paelae was thrust back into the world of the living with a jolt. Sweat covered her face, and her breathing was too rapid.
Despite the cramped space, the other women gave her a reasonable berth, some eying her while checking their weapons.
Had she screamed in her sleep? The nights had grown increasingly rare when she didn’t have a nightmare.
“Hey.” Paelae sat up and tugged the clothes out of her trunk. She ran a hand over the purple and black jumpsuit provided for her; it felt wrong, wearing the colors of another people. It was the first time anyone offered her a uniform. She preferred the Imladian one; it was familiar.
“Hey.” This time she looked up, noticing that the one-word sentence had been directed to her.
A woman stood at the end of her bed, arms crossed and legs apart as if at ease. “Name’s Benni. I’m your guard.”
Of course, the woman from the ship. 
Benni was a head shorter than Paelae and bore the markings of a low rank.
“I’m Paelae,” she said and stood to greet Benni with a hard stare. “I’m your…” She searched for an appropriate word.
“Ally,” Benni finished for her. “Sky cap’s waiting outside for you.”
Paelae took the cue and began her attempt to navigate out of the barracks, jumping over beds and weaving around people until she reached the metal door. Outside, the world was tainted purple as the sun filtered through Arcadia’s atmospheric shielding, a product of too many chemical bombs. What had once been a rushed patch job to keep air on the planet had since evolved into a last line of defense worthy of acknowledgment. It was one of few things Arcadians boasted about among the planets—when the planets still existed.
Captain Lemise stood just outside the barrack doors, looking across the miles of asphalt designated for intergalactic travel. Bordering the west side of the airfield and encroaching fast upon the north, were piles of rejected technology and broken spaceships tossed out by hundreds of different races. 
That’s how Arcadia had started, as a junkyard, but then lost voyagers found a home on it, attracting others—from those shunned by their own people to travelers broken down with no funds to continue on their journey. Eventually, it became a home for those who had nowhere else to go, and scavenging became more than an act of survival; it became a trade.
Most of the north and east were surrounded by low-class, brick apartment buildings, meant for the soldiers and their families.
“You’re not in uniform.” Lemise deduced upon seeing her. “If you want on my Chasers, you wear my uniform.”
Paelae shrugged. “Bathroom line was too long to change.”
Lemise began to walk away. “Then wake up earlier.”
Paelae walked close behind with Benni in tow as the sky captain began to explain. “Miss Demitri is our chief innovation and engineering specialist; with a screwdriver and a handful of computer chips, she could change a toaster into an engine. You will work beside her under close supervision. I want a particle shield by the end of the week.”
She almost laughed. Particle shields were difficult with the right materials, but with makeshift metals and roundabout wiring, he would be lucky if it turned on in three weeks.
“In exchange, you will work beside me in the evenings,” he continued.
Lemise didn’t expand any further on her evening expectations, but Paelae suspected they would be dull at best until Lemise began to trust her better.
“Unless there are complications. Then I will jettison you out of an airlock in EWAN territory. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. Centuries of military training had drilled the habit into her.
He led them to a jeep, and another soldier drove them east to a warehouse that stood ten stories tall. Behind it, a mesh, wire gate separated civilian from soldiers. Paelae watched as a group of young boys tossed a ball back and forth to each other, running down a deserted street to throw it in a trash can.
They used to play a similar game on the cityship as trainees. It was one of the few bits and pieces they had smuggled from the Earthen culture, played in secret when the officers had left.
Once, General Amir had caught them midgame when he came to get Paelae for sparring lessons. Anything Earthen was not to be spoken of or remembered in any way, but she had been rebellious as all teenagers were those days. Everyone had frozen in place. The terror coursing through their bodies made them forget to even salute. Trying to run would have been devastating.
Amir had walked between them, assessing the trainees. He had been furious, but his anger hadn’t been displayed in shouting or beating; it had filled the silence that spread between moments in time.
“Madison,” he addressed with a calm, collected demeanor, turning to look at her. “Why do we not register Earth as a planet in our systems?”
She didn’t reply.
“Madison!” This time the words were forceful, bringing her back from the past. Lemise and Benni had already departed from the vehicle and waited for her.
With a sigh, she shook the memory away, letting it dissipate into the morning air and jumped out of the jeep.
Lemise led them through an open garage door. Inside, the warehouse resembled a miniature junkyard. As Paelae looked closer, she could tell that the piles had been organized to some degree. One had wire, another had chips, and a third was weaponry.
“Demitri!” Lemise called. A clatter of metal followed, and the sky captain took that as a cue. They wove in and out of large piles and then climbed over smaller ones until the ground could be seen again. A giant square of cleared floor sat under an open roof, and near the opposite end, a young woman drew up schematics on a metalwork table.
“Demitri,” Lemise called again as they walked up to her.
Demitri glanced up through layers of grease stains and smudges of dirt. Bright red hair fell in a tangled mess past her shoulders, held back by a set of goggles. Deep, blue crescents were visible beneath her eyes, as if the woman had been bruised. 
“Did you sleep here last night?” He didn’t address her as a soldier, nor did she wear a uniform. Instead, brown overalls adorned her skeletal frame, and a belt of odd tools kept it hanging up.
Demitri gave him a confused look. “No. I’ve only just arrived.”
“You were supposed to be in an hour ago,” Lemise said as the military eased back into his speech.
“I was delayed,” she said and threw her arms open. “It’s not like I don’t stay past midnight anyway. Every genius needs sleep. Is this the Imladian?”
Lemise pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “This is Madison.”
Demitri stepped around the table and snatched Paelae’s arm up, pushing back the black leather sleeve. After a moment, Demitri let out a whistle. “That’s a particle shield all right. I’ll need the big guns for those supplies.”
“One week,” Lemise said.
Demitri laughed before realizing he was serious. “Two weeks, sleep, free meals, and you throw in that glass plating I need to fix the Mirage.”
“One week, no sleep, free breakfast, and you fix the Mirage because it’s your job, not a bargaining chip.”
“Two weeks, no sleep, and lunches.”
“A week and a half, sleep, and no food.”
Demitri was about to throw in another bargain when a little girl ran out from behind a pile of piping. She held up a colored picture with evident pride, tugging on Demitri’s pants and grunting to get her attention.
“A week and a half, no sleep, and forget this happened,” Demitri said as she placed a hand on her daughter’s head. “The daycare was filled, and Pops is working cross-continent. I wouldn’t bring her unless it was my only option, I swear.”
Lemise knelt down to the girl’s level. “Hello, Demi.” He smiled.
Demi held up her picture of colorful stick figures, grunting as she pointed in stunted movements at each one.
“I see.” Lemise took her picture and gave it a further inspection. “It is a beautiful picture. Will you draw me one?”
Paelae watched in mild horror. Demi was broken. On the cityship, they considered it a mercy to chloroform such children at birth, if they made it that far without detection; and it shocked her that all those years she never thought twice about it. Never before had she encountered one on other planets, though she’d heard stories.
Lemise stood, turning back to Demitri. “Will she be okay around new faces?”
“Yeah, she’s better with it now.” Demitri cracked her knuckles in anticipation.
“A week and a half, no sleep, and lunches,” he offered.
“Deal.”
They shook on it.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Lemise said and left, disappearing behind piles of trash.
Demitri pulled a chair up for her daughter to continue drawing, and then lounged back in one of her own.
“You named her after yourself,” Paelae stated when the silence had extended beyond comfort.
“Of course I did. She’s a Devonian.” Demitri fiddled with the lenses on her goggles.
Paelae nodded, though she didn’t know what that meant. “Should we get started, then?”
Demitri tossed her a pencil. “Copy your arm, please.”
She looked at the writing instrument with amusement. Once, this had been the only way to transcribe thoughts, but it had been centuries since she used one. “I don’t know how to use this.”
That caught Demitri’s attention. “You don’t know how to use a pencil?”
“Not anymore, no.”
Demitri laughed. “Aliens, sometimes you get too advanced for your own good. Come here. I’ll do it.” Another pencil was pulled from the depths of her ponytail. “Please tell me you can at least use a welder.”

About the Author:
Hope Christine was born in Arizona and raised in Colorado. Her youth was spent in Narnia and her teenage years in Middle-Earth. Like most, she grew up with reluctance and then attended college for multiple degrees before settling on Linguistics.
Today she studies Middle-Eastern languages and works in retail.
She’s opinionated, blunt, loves to bike, and bares an extreme hate of peaches.







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Thursday, November 6, 2014

Melinda Brasher presents Far-Knowing on Penny's Tales





Excerpt from Far-Knowing, a YA fantasy novel
By Melinda Brasher

"I picked this up from a trader a few days back. Would you take a look at it, tell me what you think it's worth?" Kallinesha kept the ring in her fist, out of sight, so Daistar would have to take it in his own hand to examine it.

He stared at her fist, stared into her eyes. Then he reached out and she dropped it into his waiting hand. Instantly she felt more alive, freed of the sleep enchantment bound to the ring. She set her hand on her dagger, just in case.

He turned it over in his hand several times. His eyes should be drooping by now. He should be thinking of his nice soft bed, the smooth linen, the quiet peace of an afternoon nap. But when he spoke there was nothing sleepy about his words. "It's gold, I believe, but not very fine work."

The baron leaned forward. "I hope you didn't pay much for it."

What? The beauty enchantment should have dazzled a man like the baron, who clearly liked his comfort. But when Kallinesha looked again at the ring, it no longer sparkled as before.

Daistar was staring at her again, and she feared she'd exposed her surprise.

"Maybe if you put it on…" she faltered.

He slid it halfway down his ring finger, twisted it, held it out to admire it, then took it off again. He grabbed her wrist, roughly, and pressed the ring into her palm. The sleep enchantment, she knew at once, was gone. How had he broken it so quickly? Mistress took hours to unravel spells as strong as the ones they'd cast. This was power as she'd never before seen. She had to stop him. She tightened her hold on the dagger. She'd only have one chance. It had to be his throat. But his hand was still on her wrist, and he tightened his grip.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," he whispered, as pain burst into life where he touched her.

His other hand, she saw, was on his own dagger, and she was sure beyond any doubt, without any magic to tell her so, that he'd had a lifetime more practice than she had. A mage and a warrior.

She took her hand off her dagger, jerked away from him, and stood up.

"Baron Selkimear, I believe I must see to my servant. Thank you for the sumptuous refreshment."

She fully expected not to live to see the outside of the dining hall.


Far-Knowing:  ON SALE until November 15—only 99 cents!

What people are saying about Far-Knowing:

“Both well written and entertaining.”
“Far-Knowing pulls you in right away.”
“The world-building is spot on.”
“A fascinating view of how magic could work.”
“Hard to put down.”





Melinda Brasher loves visiting alternate worlds through books and exploring this world through travel. She's currently quite obsessed with Alaska, and has lived in Poland, Mexico, and the Czech Republic, teaching English as a second language. Her short fiction appears in Ellipsis Literature and Art, Enchanted Conversation, Intergalactic Medicine Show, and others. Visit her online at melindabrasher.com