The Black Rose takes you on a dark spiral into the broken love of Mara and Edward. The mysteries are slowly unveiled throughout the book with small glimpses of past events peppered throughout. Eventually, you see the whole picture of tragedy that struck me with a gasp. I loved being thrown into the dark world of immortals and their tragic broken-heartedness. The flairs of mystery left me second guessing myself throughput the whole story. This was a truly intriguing book that leaves me aching to read the sequel!
Today Caroline T. Patti and Month9Books are revealing the cover and first chapter for INTO THE LIGHT, book 2 in the INTO THE DARK Series! Which releases July 26, 2016! Check out the gorgeous cover and enter to be one of the first readers to receive an eGalley!!
Hereâs a message from the author.
Into the Light is the continuation of Mercy's journey with Nathaniel's backstory mixed in. Readers will learn the history of breaching while Mercy engages in the fight of her life. What draws me to the cover are the colors. The palette is appealing and I love how it all swirls together because it perfectly captures how Mercy's two lives, one as a human and one as a Breacher, are intertwined.
On to the reveal!
Title: INTO THE LIGHT
Author: Caroline T. Patti
Pub. Date: July 26, 2016
Format: Paperback & eBook
Mercyâs family is back together and the threat of danger appears to have passed. But any relief she feels is short lived as she is ripped from her body and thrown in jail. Gage and Nathanielâs plans to break Mercy out wonât exactly be easy. Stuffed full of a chemical binding agent, Mercy is trapped inside the body of a convict without the ability to breach and set herself free. Unfortunately for Mercy, being trapped in jail becomes the least of her problems when she meets her evil twin, Justice.
Caroline T Patti is the author of The World Spins Madly On and Too Late To Apologize. When sheâs not writing, sheâs a school librarian, mother of two, wife, avid reader and Green Bay Packer fan. You can chat with her on Twitter: @carepatti or find her onFacebook.
1 winner will receive an eBook of INTO THE LIGHT & an eGalley of INTO THE DARK. International.
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Name: Hairy Tales: A Collection of Stories for Naughty Boys and Girls
Author: Clifford James Hayes
Release Date: February 19, 2016
Paperback: 148 pages
Buy @ Amazon
Fans of quirky humour will love these Hairy Tales! Eleven different stories full of rhymes, morals and wit - or just plain silliness and absurdity! Great fun for children and adults alike.
Join The Ugly Mermaid on her amazing undersea quest to discover why she’s so hideous, and find out why Veronica the Velociraptor has such very bad teeth! Discover Aubrey’s Smelly Adventure in the Land of Bernards, and learn that it can be cool to be different in Shipwreck'd Sarah and the Silly-Looking Pirates! Are you brave enough to meet the hideous, toad-fearing Grandma Grunt … and what dreadful fate awaits Horrid Horatia, the fearsome lady-slug? Baron Tuskogee pays a terrible price for his greed in The Walrus Story, stinky old Podge the pig revolts in more ways than one, and the dreaded Lurgatron threatens to take over the world!
All this (and a great deal more!) can be found in Hairy Tales! New, revised edition.
GRANDMA GRUNT …
When you think of grandmas, you probably think of nice, scented old ladies - the kind of doddery old dears who drink endless cups of tea and spoil their grandchildren with sugary, stodgy home-made cakes. Your grannie is there to make you feel safe, warm and all gooey inside.
Grannies have cuddly, nursey mannerisms and a slightly bonkers too-old-to-care approach to life; they allow their grandchildren to get away with all manner of slightly naughty acts and misdemeanors. Eating too much cake? Breaking a china plate? Going to bed without cleaning your teeth? Such naughtiness may NEVER be allowed at home, but a grannie will usually find childish hijinks, tomfoolery and slovenliness to be quite acceptable when you stay at her place.
All this talk of sweet old dears gurgling tea and baking bad-for-you sugary cakes may possibly remind you of enjoyable visits to your OWN grandmother - and as a consequence it may give you soft, fluffy memories of never being scolded, of endlessly eating candy until you felt queasy and of always being well looked after.
Unfortunately, these were NOT the memories of Edgar and Wilhelmina Grunt. The grandmother of Edgar and Wilhelmina Grunt was NOT a nice, scented old lady. The grandmother of Edgar and Wilhelmina Grunt was SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY.
The grandmother of Edgar and Wilhelmina Grunt did not make sugary cakes, nor dish out too much candy. The grandmother of Edgar and Wilhelmina Grunt did NOT make you feel warm and squishy inside.
Imagine a grandma with a strong, lingering, rotten-vegetably smell - the kind of putrid stench that made you cough up a little bit of sick every time you got downwind of her! Imagine a grandma who spoke words so rude even a foul-mouthed football hooligan would be too embarrassed to repeat them. Imagine a grandma that liked to encourage spiders and other creepy-crawly things to live in every nook and cranny of her dilapidated, unclean home, and who fed her grandchildren food off plates that had never been washed in over forty years. Imagine a grandma with a mountain-range of lumps over every inch of exposed flesh, and with hairy moles on her skin that looked like baby tarantulas! Not to mention the coarse, bristly hair that grew in the strangest of places (even out of the gums between her blackened teeth)!
NOW you’re getting a picture of Edgar and Wilhelmina Grunt’s grandmother. To top it all, their grandmother was quite mad. An absolute fruitcake, in fact. Her favourite book was THE FROGS OF WAR - a woeful tale about pond-life taking over the world. Grandma Grunt was CONVINCED the book was a prophecy – and that one day the world would be taken over by frogs, toads, newts and salamanders. She read the bleak, miserable book again and again and again to her terrified grandchildren, filling their heads with images of the frog wars to come ...
Soldier toads, and frogs of war,
Built for fighting, blood and gore.
Hop o’er land, break down your door,
Take it all, then take some more!
We’re the toads and frogs of war,
Croak and ribit, belch and roar!
She called the book ‘The Froggy Scriptures’, and read terrifying chapters of it to Edgar and Wilhelmina every time they came to stay. Once satisfied she’d scared the living daylights out of her grandchildren, Grandma Grunt made them eat ‘GROT’ - a grey, semi-liquid concoction of her own design. Part-porridge, part-soup, and part whatever-was-found-in-the-backyard. Anything unfortunate enough to be slow and easy to catch often went into her vat of Grot - she had a particular fancy for snails and slugs, and even squeezed the ‘juice’ out of a dead seagull once, in order to add it to the putrid gruel.
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Jaxen’s on the edge of the bed with nothing but a pair of gunmetal gray sweatpants on, an empty glass in his hand, and a half-empty bottle resting by his feet.
He looks so tortured. Looks at me as if he wishes he were seeing someone else. Someone less distant and broken. It feels like ice is eating away at my bones. Like fire is scorching every one of my nerves.
“How did your meeting go?” His strangled words slur a little.
“Okay, I guess.”
I make my way over to him, but everything feels so unfamiliar and shaky—like walking into another plane of time. Like stepping on a spider web and finding myself caught as the truth makes its way across, ready to spin me and drain my blood.
He makes a haphazard gesture for me to sit next to him. “That good?”
“It was fine,” I lie, taking the empty glass from his hand. I grab the bottle by his feet, pour myself a shot, and toss it back, reveling in the fiery burn running down my throat that washes away the awful taste the Belladonna I took a few minutes ago left behind.
“So, this is what we’ve become then?”
I hate the desolation in his voice. There’s a desert between us without a hope for either one of us crossing it.
“What’s that?” I ask a little tersely, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and downing another shot. I’m trying to pretend I don’t know where this is headed. That I don’t see and hear the heartache ripping our guts out right now, because I need to pretend. I need to fake that everything is okay. Need him to believe I’m fine because the moment I don’t… the moment he looks at me, knowing I’ll die and seeing that death reflected in his gaze, then it will all be over.
He tries to clear his throat, but the sound is painful. Like he’s swallowing tears. “I don’t know. Strangers? Two lovers who lie to one another? Who hide things from each other? Who can’t turn to each other whenever something bad is happening?”
I don’t recognize this Jaxen. This raw ache in his voice that scratches at the door of my heart, waiting for me to open it. I find myself missing the old him. The one who had his emotions under control. Who could take this pain and survive in it.
I set the glass down. Brace my hands on my knees as the alcohol sends my brain spinning. “I love you, Jaxen. More than I could ever explain to you.”
I need a breath of fresh air. Need a new body to hide in. One where I’m safe from his prodding. Safe from myself.
“Jaxen, what am I supposed to do?”
“Stop shutting me out.” His chest heaves, heart throbbing in his neck.
I find a shadow across the room. Feel my regret slip down my cheek.
“I can’t even feel your mind anymore. It’s like you’re… you’re purposefully pulling away from me. Like you’re a ghost haunting me.” His eyes are flashing with anger now. He’s two steps from falling off the edge. From losing it all. I want to tell him everything. Want to tell him about my impending death, and that it’s easier this way because he’s going to lose me, only, not because of his curse.
Because of my curse.
“There are things, Jaxen. Things we knew would happen one way or another,” I say, and I find myself surprised by how calm I sound when my heart rattles at the cage of my bones to be free from my irrevocable torture.
“Things,” he retorts, spitting out the word with heavy distaste. “No, Faye. Things are that dresser or this pillow. Things are not the secrets Mack, Weldon, and Seamus has asked you to keep from me. Things are not the way you’ve been handling everything lately. That’s called shutting down. That’s called knowing about something that’s going to happen… that’s going to affect both of us, and you deciding not to tell me.”
I can’t believe the anger radiating off him like heat waves. The fury raging in his eyes as his hands clench and unclench against his legs, like he’s trying to contain the outburst that’s been coming my way since we returned here to Ethryeal City.
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“Tristan.” The word comes out almost like a cry. In the faint moonlight coming in through the windows, I see him leaning on the seat in front of me, hovering over me. I imagine his dark brown eyes searching me worriedly.
“Are you hurt?”
“Just my temple, but I’m not bleeding,” I say, running my fingers over the tender spot. I assess him next. It’s difficult given the dim moonlight. His white uniform shirt is smeared with dirt, but he appears unharmed. I turn my head toward the window. I can’t gauge anything outside in the darkness.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“We landed,” Tristan says simply, and when I turn to look at him he adds, “… in the rainforest.”
I nod, trying not to let the tight knot of fear in my chest overtake me. If I let it spiral out, I may not be able to control it.
“Shouldn’t we … like… leave the plane or something? Until they rescue us? Is it safe for us to be inside?”
Tristan runs a hand through his short, black hair. “Trust me, this is the only safe place. I checked outside for any fuel leaks, but we’re good.”
“You got out?” I whisper.
“I want—” I say, opening my seatbelt and trying to stand. But dizziness forces me back into my chair.
“No,” Tristan says, and he slumps in the seat opposite mine on the other side of the slim aisle. “Listen to me. You need to calm down.”
“How deep in the forest are we, Tristan?”
He leans back, answering after a long pause. “Deep enough.”
“How will they find us?” I curl my knees to my chest under the blanket, the dizziness growing. I wonder when Tristan put the blanket over me.
“They will,” Tristan says.
“But there is something we can do to make it easier for them, isn’t there?”
“Right now, there isn’t.”
“Can contact someone at base?” I ask weakly.
“No. We lost all communication a while ago.” His shoulders slump, and even in the moonlight, I notice his features tighten. His high cheekbones, which usually give him a noble appearance, now make him look gaunt. Yet instead of panic, I’m engulfed in weakness. My limbs feel heavy. Fog settles over my mind.
“What happened to the engine?” I whisper.
“Can you repair it?”
“There is really no way to send anyone a message?”
“No.” As if in a dream, I feel Tristan put a pillow under my head and recline my seat.
The Warrior Prophet
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He tucks his wings into himself, but they are still so close I could touch them. He walks a small circle around me. Still a dance.
“That’s very different,” he says.
“I don’t see how. I am human. They are my people.”
He bends forward until his face is inches from mine. “Your mother had passed. You needed me. We’re allowed to appear when we are needed.”
“Really?” My eyes search his for a sign—any sign—of feelings for me. “She died ten moons ago.” Did only pity bring him? “Why did you stay?”
His voice is music, and his energy hums through me, making me bold. I couldn’t imagine him needing anyone, least of all me. With a smile, I glance at him and hold up the feathery filament. A small piece of his magic, its light sparkles and plays along my hand, the lines of his throat and jaw, the front of his tunic.
“If I return this,” I say. “What will you give me in exchange?”
“Well.” He frowns and thoughtfully strokes his chin, but his eyes are still smiling. “What do you want? Riches and jewels aren’t mine to command. I am but a humble servant.”
“Can you make it rain? It would be good for my father’s crops.”
“You know I cannot,” he scolds. “Doing so would be interfering.”
I do know, but enjoy the game, the way he looks at me as though he sees something hidden deep inside me, the secret of who I am.
“How about a kiss?” I ask.
He casts his gaze to the ground and bows his head. “Of course. A blessing.” He rests his hands on my shoulders, and even that light touch scorches me. White-hot like the sun.
Closing his eyes, he leans in to kiss my forehead, but I want a real kiss. Not the kiss of an angel, but of a lover. I rise to my toes, lifting my chin, and press my lips to his.
Competing with the Star
Then the most beautiful sound in the world came along—the final bell. I grabbed my bag and rushed out the door to my locker, where I ran into Reagan O’Hara, Nick’s gorgeous ex-girlfriend. “Watch where you’re going, spaz,” she said, glaring at me. “Exactly where are you in such a hurry to get to anyway? I can’t imagine that you’d have plans.”
I could have said, “Off to meet my boyfriend, you know, the guy you used to badmouth me to,” but no, I took the high road and said, “Excuse me,” and kept going.
“Whatever, loser,” she said. My shoulders tensed. As I tried to ignore her and tell myself it was just jealousy, I couldn’t pretend that her words didn’t hurt. I had been considered kind of a loser at my old school in Goodacre. I had had one super close best friend who I did everything with, Lexi Irvin, and when she moved to Dallas, it was as if I had been abandoned. So yeah, I had felt like a complete loser in Goodacre, but now I was here in Grand Haven, with new friends and a new positive outlook on life. I had a new best friend, Charlotte Lidstrom, and had become friends with former teen TV star Simone Hendrickson and her best friend, Asia Milanowski.
It could be intimidating hanging out with Simone since she was popular, pretty, and famous. Sometimes I felt invisible next to her, and unfortunately, hanging with Simone sometimes meant spending time with people like Reagan or Simone’s other friends, Pilar Ito and Morgan Kemp. Morgan was the ultimate mean girl. I swear, even if she told me she loved my outfit and was hooked up to a lie detector test saying she was telling the truth, I still wouldn’t want to risk it and I’d go home and change. But today I was not going to worry about Morgan, Reagan, or any of that. I was just going to focus on my first date with Nick.
Until I rounded the corner and ran into Simone, who was waiting for me at my locker with Morgan and Pilar.
“Hey, Hadley,” Simone said. “Wanted to return your lucky bracelet. Let’s hope it helped me pass my math test.”
She handed me my heart and natural stone charm bracelet and I slid it on my wrist. Morgan looked down at my hands and made a face.
“Why are you wearing such dark nail polish?” she asked me.
My face got warm. “I thought the color was pretty when I saw it in the store. I’ve never seen this shade of purple with so much blue in it.”
“Guys aren’t into weird nail polish colors,” Morgan said as she fluffed her long curly blonde hair with her red polished fingers.
Great, so even my nail polish was wrong. Could I do anything right?
“Here comes Nick,” Pilar said, and the girls all got quiet.
“Hey, guys,” he said, coming up and nodding at them. I started to curl my fingers under so he wouldn’t notice my dark polish—the color that up until a few minutes ago I thought was unique and beautiful was now making me feel like a little oddball.
“Cool color,” Nick said.
“I like the blue. It’s very you,” he said, and then he reached over and intertwined his fingers with mine. Take that, you dark nail polish haters.
Simone played with a strand of her long blonde hair, but didn’t say a thing.
“Yup, we thought we’d go over with you guys,” Morgan said, smiling up at him with her gleaming white teeth.
Wait, what? No, not cool. This was our first date and I knew I’d feel awkward talking to him around a group—a group judging me on what I said, did, and apparently even the colors I wore.
Rhodi's Light (The Rhodi Saga #1)
by Megan Linski
Release Date: September 4th 2016
Flight. Hyperspeed. Clairvoyance. These are some of the powers gifted to the Rhodi, an ancient sect of assassins who defend Crescentia, a dystopian world with a dying hope.
Dyliana Fairsson is one of them. After losing her parents to a suspicious accident, she and her twin brother, Devin, join the Rhodi to avoid starvation.Under the direction of her master, Dylan struggles to learn the strength of her magic …as well as hide the growing scars on her wrists. Can Dylan become the warrior, the hero, she’s destined to be? Or is she fated to fall from the light into the darkness?
After being forced into hiding, Dylan and Devin have grown restless. Once again alone, the twins search desperately for their masters, Talidin and Tavana…only to discover they’ve gone missing.
Seeking help from a pair of mysterious spies, Dylan and Devin piece together the events that led to the disappearance of their fellow Rhodi. Eventually, the trail goes cold, marked with hints of torture and destruction. As their enemies close in for the kill, Dylan discovers that some things are impossible for a Rhodi…but not for a tigress.
Title: Girl Departs Three, Part 1
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