Elementals: Season One by S.G. Basu

 photo Elementals-Banner.png

 photo Elementals-Season-1.png

Title:  Elementals: Season 1
Author:  Author: S.G. Basu
Published:  September 29th, 2015
Publisher:   Vinayaka Publishing
Genre:  Science Fiction Thriller
Content Warning:  Mild violence and language
Recommended Age:  15+
Synopsis:  Mayhem is about to visit Löthia.
Löthia is at peace–after a millennium of genetic tinkering, Löthians’ power over the elements has been obliterated. The Elemental Wars that have plagued their civilization from the beginning of time is now distant history.
But have the Elementals been tamed for good?
Or is this just the quiet before the storm rips Löthia apart once again?

Read FREE with Kindle Unlimited!

Excerpt from Elementals: Season 1 by S.G. Basu:
Nothing during the course of the grouchy summer day indicated that, by the time it was over, seventeen-year-old Anavyx Elon would be accused of the grisliest murder in recent Löthian history.

Dual complete moons blazed across the purple skies of Löthia that evening, and there shouldn’t have been any interruptions to Anavyx’s routine, yet there was.

She heard the faint noise of her bedroom door opening when she was halfway through her shower. Her body, warm from the water cascading down from the canopy over her head, stiffened immediately.

“Moma?” Anavyx called, voice trembling a little as her throat dried up with fear. No one replied.

It couldn’t be Moma.

Alana, her mother, was a top geneticist in the Peaks. Her evening consultation hours ended precisely at 2030 hours, not a moment before or after. There was no reason for her to leave her patients and come into the private section of the house looking for Anavyx.
Maybe it was Dadi.

Anavyx banished that idea with a shake of her head. It was impossible. Her father did not set foot in the house before midnight. Nothing except a calamity would bring him home this early. And even if he came home, he would never venture into her room. So who could it be?

There was no other noise after the door opened. That was the oddest thing—the silence. It made her insides curl up in a tight ball.

Anavyx reached for her robe and having wrapped its flowing expanse around herself, tiptoed forward to investigate. She barely took a step into her room, heart pounding uncontrollably fast and unbearably loud, when she saw him.

 photo SG-Basu.png

About the Author:
S.G. Basu is an aspiring potentate of a galaxy or two. She plots and plans with wondrous machines, cybernetic robots, time travelers and telekinetic adventurers, some of whom escape into the pages of her books.
Once upon a previous life on planet Earth, S.G. Basu trained to be an engineer, and her interest in science and her love of engineering shows up time and again in her books.
She shares her home with a large collection of Legos, a patient husband, and resident inspiration and entertainer, her daughter.

Signup for S.G. Basu’s Newsletter
We are so happy to have S.G. Basu with us today!

1) Describe your relationship with a good book.

A good book is one that endears and endures. A good book is enjoyable, no matter how many times it has been read. A good book ages well too. No matter how old you grow, the book appeals, revealing more and more with each read. One of my favorites is Frank Herbert’s Dune. It was magical when I first read it in grade school and it still is as wonderful.

2) When did you first start writing and what was the first thing that you wrote that you were proud of?

While I took to serious writing only in 2008, have enjoyed writing since I was a child. Way back when . . . I was in middle school, we were assigned classwork to write an original skit on Don Quixote . . . so I did. My English teacher, who was known for being hard to please, was so impressed with my piece that she recommended it for publication in the school magazine. Thinking that she saw so much potential in something I wrote on the fly, makes my heart swell even now.

3) Please describe your work ethic as an author.

Creating a challenging but sustainable work ethic is very important for a writer, particularly for indies like me. Here are my top three:
-Have a dedicated writing time: When writing was simply a hobby, I wrote in spurts. Obviously, my productivity was definitely nowhere near what it is now. Now, I write and do other writing related work for at least 5 hours every day, five days a week. I stay extremely focused during the weekdays. By design, I take my weekends easy.
-Create daily targets: I have a list of writing related things to do each day and I finish them each day. This is over and above the 250 words minimum that I have to write every day.
-Keep your resolutions: This almost goes without saying. It’s easy to make resolutions, but a far difficult job keeping them. As an indie author, it is hard to keep up with the constant barrage of tasks, but I always finish what I start.

4) How do you balance your work as an author with the other aspects of your life?

It’s a constant battle with the clock, multitasking like I never thought was possible. I’m a new indie writer, and just like it is for any start up, the amount of work I have to put in is enormous. I also enjoy raising my young family, so I try to be extremely focused when I’m working. That way, my time for with my family or my own “playtime” is always a solid chunk of quality time. It has taken a lot of practice, but I’ve gotten better at creating “the zone” around me at the snap of a finger, rather than waiting for the right time or the right place.

5) Why did you write this book?

In 2015, one of my main goals was to challenge myself, push my boundaries so to speak. I usually write sprawling narratives, and my stories are usually not fast paced or short. So, I added writing a short, fast paced story to my list of this year’s resolutions. Couple that with the temptation to write a thriller, and the serialized science fiction thriller, “Elementals,” came to be.

It was a fun ride that I didn’t expect to enjoy so much. But now that I’ve developed a taste for it, there will be many more serialized science fiction thrillers coming from this stable.

6) What experiences from your past do you find yourself drawing upon repeatedly for inspiration?

Every life experience finds its way out through a writer’s words. For me, the biggest influence has been the diverse cultures I’ve been fortunate to observe up close. I love to travel and the places I’ve seen and the people I’ve met infuse color into the tapestries of my stories.

7) What do you hope to accomplish in the next five years, both as an author and in your outside life?

As an author, I hope to amass a vast amount of content by then, maybe publish 30 or so books. Also hope to have a much better grip on marketing myself and my work.

In my other life, I want to travel to new places, visit the couple continents that I’ve never set foot on. Mostly though, I want to be an even better Mom.

8) Since you are a storyteller, please tell one good lie about yourself.

Don’t know about lies, but here’s a quirky fact about me–I used to be a professional snake charmer. In 2009, I performed at the CharmerFest with my wildly popular brood of snakes. Snuffles, my 15ft. dark-spotted Anaconda, even has a Facebook fan page.

Giveaway Details:
There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:
  • $10 Amazon gift card
  • An ecopy of Elementals, Season 1
Ends November 30th, 2015 11:59 PM (EST) 

Giveaway is International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 photo JGBSLogo.png

The Hunter Awakens by J.R. Roper

 photo The-Hunter-Awakens-Banner.png

 photo The-Hunter-Awakens.jpg

Title:  The Hunter Awakens
Series:  The Morus Chronicles Book 1
Author:   J.R. Roper
Published:  July 6th, 2014
Publisher:  Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing
Genre:  Middle Grade Action/FantasyAwards:

2015 Readers’ Favorite Gold Medal Winner
Winner Best Children’s Novel 2014: Preditors & Editors Readers Poll
Literary Classics Seal of Approval: Highly recommended for home and school libraries.
When thirteen-year-old Ethan Morus is forced to stay on his grandparents’ old farm, he expects to find weathered barns, rusty tools, and a creaky house in need of fresh paint. What he doesn’t expect is to hear a legend placing his family at the center of an ancient treasure hunt. Or find burial chambers protected by poltergeists, or a secret lair guarded by an ancient beast. And least of all, Ethan doesn’t suspect that powerful sorcerers are watching his every move.
They’ve found Ethan and believe he is from a line of treasure hunters who possess a rare instinct to locate powerful artifacts. Whether he has the instinct or not, Ethan is faced with a choice–search the Morus property and find what they want or lose yet another family member.
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | GoodReadBe sure to grab your copy of The Hunter Awakens for the special tour price of only 99 cents!

 photo The Hunter Awakens Poster.jpg
Excerpt from The Hunter Awakens by J.R. Roper
Mel closed her eyes and drew in long breaths as he passed. A hint of the sorcerer was all she smelled. He was alone.
She waited for him to near the summit, and when he was close she dropped to the ground and approached from well within the forest. When she reached the top, it was clear he’d already begun his conjuring.
The sorcerer stood in the middle of the hilltop, held his staff in front of him and spoke softly in the old tongue. He lifted the staff and slammed it into the ground. The earth groaned.
He looked to the sky. “Reveal.”
Mel followed his gaze. A faint shadow swooped through the clouds and she retreated behind a thick tree. It was the thunderbird—the harbinger of conjured storms.
From his messenger bag, a red orb rose into the air and wisps of wood fastened it to the top of his staff.
Mel glanced above and readied her throwers. She’d put out the thunderbird’s eye if it attacked.
The sorcerer gripped his staff with both hands and pointed the end toward the setting sun, the direction of Roseville. He lowered it slowly and spun, drawing a wide circle where grass shriveled. The smell of scorched earth forced Mel to hold her breath. She hated the smell of anything burnt and the old rock beneath the grass smelled like the burning of ancient bones.
Within moments, clouds rolled overhead. The orb’s red light pierced the early dark. The sorcerer grasped for the sky with his left hand and spoke an incantation that the wind swept away.
The last sliver of sunlight winked out, as if a shawl had been drawn over the sky. A fog chased up the hill like a tidal wave and clouded Mel’s view. The fog moved upward and the sky rippled with a surge of power. All heavenly lights darkened and Mel aimed a thrower in the direction of the sorcerer.
If he knew she was here and came looking for her, it’d be his last act on Earth. She feared no one. She was Hellish Mel.

 photo Joe-Roper.jpg

About the Author:
J.R. Roper is the author of The Morus Chronicles, a fantasy series for middle grade readers. The first two books, The Hunter Awakens and The Spirit of Steel are now available along with a collection of short stories titled Mel & the Black Rider. Roper’s work has appeared in ChildGood Magazine, Families First Monthly, and in anthologies by Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing, Horrified Press, and Thirteen O’Clock Press.
We are very pleased to have J.R. Roper with us today!

1) Describe your relationship with a good book.

Fast and furious. I can’t let it go but also want to keep it on my shelf forever. Does that sound creepy?

2) When did you first start writing and what was the first thing that you wrote that you were proud of?

I started writing in September 2007. I had graduated with a BA in Social Studies and failed to land a full time teaching job so I took a job as a one-on-one paraprofessional for a student with a genetic disorder. My wife was teaching full-time, so when she would spend her evenings planning and grading, I worked on the first draft of The Hunter Awakens. I finished the draft in March 2008. It was an incredibly proud moment even though the first draft was dreadful.

3) Please describe your work ethic as an author.

As a full time teacher, coach, and father of two little boys, I struggle to write every single day. Instead I set weekly goals and binge write (or edit) when I have larger blocks of time. Some weeks I am extremely productive and others I fail miserably. I try to celebrate the good and move on from the bad quickly. I feel like immersion is the key especially when the writing is slow. I listen to podcasts related to writing while doing dishes at night (Writers on Writing is fantastic). I read articles from Writers Digest and browse twitter and facebook for quick reads that teach me something. I watch documentaries and true crime for plot and character ideas. To some degree I am always working.

4) How do you balance your work as an author with the other aspects of your life?

Not always easily. Being a teacher, coach, father, husband, and friend of many, it can be difficult to keep my writing time sacred. Some nights are a complete fail and others are incredibly productive. Setting a writing timer for fifteen or thirty minutes can be gold for getting something done even when I want to go to bed.

5) Why did you write this book?

I fell in love with reading when I discovered Harry Potter and wanted to create an opportunity for other reluctant readers to fall in love with a book. That is now my goal as an author. Fast paced exciting reads for kids who don’t consider themselves readers.

6) What experiences from your past do you find yourself drawing upon repeatedly for inspiration in your work?

The setting on an old family farm was the inspiration for the story. From the setting grew the characters and ultimately the plot.

7) What do you hope to accomplish in the next five years, both as an author and in your outside life?

As an author, my goal for the next five years is to finish The Morus Chronicles, and a new trilogy (YA epic fantasy), the first book of which I am currently editing. During that time I also plan to grow my brand as a go to author for reluctant readers. Outside of writing, I hope to move out into the country and continue to improve as an educator.

8) Since you are a storyteller, please tell one good lie about yourself.

I also write under a pen name and have written a dozen erotica novellas. That is actually how we pay the bills.



 photo CHBB Banner.png

Giveaway Details:
There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:
  • $25 Amazon gift card
  • 5 Kindle copies of The Hunter Awakens
Giveaway is International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 photo JGBSLogo.png

Guest Post by Kenya Carlton, author of The Sinful Trilogy

The Sinful Trilogy Banner

Repeat offenders?
Who among us doesn’t adore the ‘the one that got away’ love story? I know it couldn’t be just me because book shelves are lined with these sweet reunion novels. Harlequin has a line dedicated to pregnant hook-ups, so why not old booty calls? Oops, that’s not how they package it. Here, let me start over … second chance books is a nice way of saying familiar dick. People love these past love storylines. I’m not too sure how many people revisit these types of relationships in real life, but I do wonder where the obsession comes from.
Depending upon the scenarios, I’m game to read 300 and something pages of getting to know you again. I even wrote a second chance romance between an ex-football player and a former ballerina. To be honest, past history is sometimes fun to build a plot around, but in real life maybe not so much.
There was a reason why the relationship didn’t initially work out, right? Could it be that personality defect that couldn’t be overlooked? Or perhaps it was circumstances. Lovers who were torn apart get reacquainted twenty years later. Sweet, right? But in the back of the reader’s mind, everyone is thinking did the heroine or hero change or grow? How could they possibly be attracted to the same traits at 40 that they were at 20? (Only if their maturity was stunted during all that time) What, just me again? *rolls eyes* I highly doubt that.
Second chance plots can be crazy sweet, but there has to be a certain amount of self-exploration to anchor the story. One side has to be right, while this other side has to be wrong, but most importantly someone has to be sorry. A misunderstanding can occur to drive a wedge, but at some point in the story this has to be acknowledged. Forgiveness is a strong theme here, young Skywalker, and someone better be ready to grovel. Cynical? Maybe a little, but also realistic. In other words, someone must own up to their crap then the clothes can come off. Not always in that order, but most of the time this is the formula that leads to that almighty HEA ending we crave.

By Kenya Carlton

Sinful Trilogy

Title: The Sinful Trilogy

Author: Kenya Carlton

Published: June 29th, 2015

Publisher: Parker Publishing Inc

Genre: Fantasy, Paranormal

Content Warning: Explicit sexual content and violence

Age Recommendation: 18+


Sweet As Sin (book 1)

Brought together in the aftermath of WWI, a lethal, war hero and a beautiful, seductive heiress are forced into a marriage neither wants.

Captain Drake Devilin fought with honor and survived a brutal war only to return home to find his parents dead under scandalous circumstances and his grandfather determined to restore the family honor and fortune.

Sienna Caldwell wants to trust her father’s decision to marry her to the charming playboy, but realizes the life she yearns for may never be hers. Faced with secrets upon secrets, she can do nothing to change the future. With her father’s blessing she puts herself into the handsome Drake’s care.

While Drake struggles to keep his bride alive, Sienna battles to keep her heart intact even as a magical world of myth and horror opens before them. Drake realizes the woman he married is more powerful than he imagined as he fights for her soul and their lives against an unimaginable evil.

Devil’s Play (book 2)

Snuggled within the warm embrace of marital bliss, biologically altered army Captain Drake Devilin and his supernatural bride, Sienna, face their biggest challenge to date. Called back for duty in World War II, Drake must leave his amazing life behind and join his troop to fight the Nazis. Although he’s certain his new mission is merely a rouse to obtain his most precious commodity, his wife, Drake leaves, but not before giving Sienna a magical necklace in the hope it will protect her against unknown enemies.

Lured from her prosperous island by a sorcerer who is convinced she was always meant to be his bride. Sienna is challenged to play three magical games to ensure her husband’s safe return. In each game, a limited time is given to Sienna to immerse herself into a new world, situation, and persona; find Drake; and have him acknowledge her by name. And she can’t use her powers to make it happen.

Everything dear to Sienna’s heart is put in jeopardy. Willing to fight for the love of her life and her happiness, Sienna takes on the sorcerer in his own game of cat and mouse.

Sinfully Ever After (book 3)

Experimented and tested on by the Nazis, Captain Drake Devilin and his troop of beasts are made into something unholy. Unwilling to serve as a guinea pig for the government any longer, Drake has only one thing on his mind … his beautiful wife, but instead finds himself involved in a war of the supernatural kind. The pressure mounts when Drake uncovers that a stranger from Sienna’s past is responsible for the rash of supernatural crimes plaguing an underwater city.

After beating an evil sorcerer at his own game, Sienna Devilin awaits her husband’s return from Germany. Once Drake Devilin arrives, Sienna can tell something is different about the captain. Moody and temperamental, Sienna doesn’t know what to think when he turns down a fight to help with a fresh crop of engineered monsters.

With World War II in full swing, Drake is unable to talk his wife out of their new obligation. Sienna is more determined than ever to fight off demons from her past and monsters in their not too distant future.

Amazon | GoodReads

Find Kenya Carlton online


Amazon Author Page | Facebook | GoodReads | Website

Light snow fell to the earth. The flakes melted nearly as quickly as they landed. Drake welcomed the fresh air.

Yards from the house he tracked his wife’s scent near the horse’s paddock. Sienna stood under the full moon in front of the big animals that grazed by the fence. He worked his way past the medical tents to join her. Pretty and peaceful, it was no wonder she came to the pasture since dinner had been a complete and utter disaster.
Murphy and Barker joined them for a marvelous evening—along with their wives—for screaming, cursing, and his personal favorite…crying. Murphy’s spouse, Evie, called him every name and then some, while Alex, Barker’s wife, sat in her seat softly sobbing. Somewhere before dessert but after dinner Sienna snuck off.
“Dear wife,” he whispered in her ear before he placed his coat over her shoulders. “I will extend to you my sincerest apologies for not being forthright, but you must promise to never make me sit through anything similar to that again.” Confident he wouldn’t be turned into a toad when she gifted him with a laugh he pulled her back into his chest.
“They’re worried about their men.”
“I gave them a choice this afternoon.” Drake buried his nose into the careless curls constructed on top of her head. “It is out of my hands,” he murmured, submerging himself in her sweet scent.
“Evie and Alex are not angry at you per se. They’re mad at the amount of loyalty their husbands display toward you and their country.”
“I am not the villain here.” He sighed. “Am I yours?”
Sienna turned in his arms.
Slow drifting snow caught on her long eyelashes, illuminating her beautiful face. He captured her lips, and attacked her sweet mouth. Only for a moment, he thought to himself before he released her.
“Why did you stop, Captain?” She continued to tempt him with tiny kisses to the underside of his chin. “Afraid you’ll lose your mind?” The sum of her powers were too great for one person alone. Extreme anger or sadness could send her into a downward spiral. It had taken Sienna years to learn how to control the balance of her emotions. Otherwise, the sanctity of her sanity would be put into question. Drake remembered all too well the time she nearly went mad.
“I was falling in love with you,” she replied to the thoughts in his head.
Drake felt that she was wrong and it was the other way around. His raw need for his wife almost certainly sent her over the edge. Every time he got too close another spark of magic would course through his veins. He couldn’t imagine what a huge wave of her power would do to him.
“Tell me, Captain, are you afraid of the devil in me or is it the devil in you?” Sienna rose on the tips of her toes to kiss the side of his mouth. Weeks had gone by where he didn’t think he would ever see her again. Drake felt the soft palm of her hand caress his face, while she sweetly nipped at his neck. Regardless of his wants or needs, he understood what was at stake for the both of them.


a Rafflecopter giveaway


Show Time by Phil Harvey Book Blitz by JGBS

 photo Show-Time-Blitz-Banner.png


 photo Show-Time.png

Title:  Show Time
Author:   Phil Harvey
Published:  April 2nd, 2012
Publisher:  Lost Coast Press
Genre:  Thriller
Content Warning:   Mild sexual content and language
Recommended Age:  18+

Future viewing audiences have become totally desensitized to violence and entirely dependent on sensation to escape their boring workaday lives—an addiction nurtured by the media with graphic portrayals of war and crime and with so-called reality programming. Now, TV execs in pursuit of the only things they care about—higher ratings and bigger paychecks—have created the ultimate reality show: Seven people, each bearing the scars of his or her past, are deposited on an island in the middle of Lake Superior. Given some bare necessities and the promise of $400,000 each if they can endure, the three women and four men risk death by starvation or freezing as the Great Lakes winter approaches. The island is wired for sound, and flying drones provide the video feed, so everything the contestants do and say is broadcast worldwide. Their seven-month ordeal is entirely unscripted, they can’t ask for help or they forfeit the prize, and as far as the network is concerned—the fewer survivors the better.
Excerpt from Show Time by Phil Harvey:
Day 198
THE SNOW WAS DEEP, drifting and crusting into whorled shapes under the pale sky. The thermometer nailed to the tree at the edge of the camp area read minus 11, inching down toward the minus-40 line where Fahrenheit and Celsius were equal. Ambrose had a bet with himself that it wouldn’t go that far.
He puffed his breath out, watched the faint cloud quickly disappear in the dry Lake Superior air. I’m going to do it today, he thought. I’m going to start today. The time has come.
He walked carefully to the tree where three wood saws hung, and selected the smallest, a band-type saw with an eighteen-inch blade stretched between the ends of a bowed metal tube. The teeth of the saw were deeply serrated, worn from cutting wood, hundreds of small logs and sticks that had kept them from freezing. He tested the teeth. For all the work they had performed, they remained remarkably sharp. This saw would do, this saw and his hunting knife.
He checked the leg pocket of his pants for the waterproof match container. In the same pocket there were three fire-starter pellets. No shortage of those.
As Ambrose left the clearing, Maureen and Ashai looked up. Ambrose flipped his fingers in a little wave. Ashai nodded back. Maureen looked at him for a moment and then went back to the tedious job of softening boiled lichen with her teeth. It was all they’d had to eat for five days.
Ambrose walked slowly and with great care along the trail to Rudy’s camp, the little saw hanging heavy in his hand. As he walked, his eyes darted from side to side, alert for a rabbit or a vole or perhaps even a fox, but there was no sign of edible life, only fir trees and yew bushes.
Ambrose had been hungry before. He had gone without food for three days on a camping trip in Manitoba. It had not been pleasant, but at the end of the third day they had arrived back at their truck and driven straight to an all-night diner at the intersection of Route 124 and old route 42 where their hunger was soon sated with pancakes and maple syrup.
Here, it had settled into a rhythm. When he woke in the middle of the night, and again in the morning, well before dawn, there was an empty feeling in his stomach, an urgent pull, a void. He knew the feeling would come, and he was afraid of it. Usually, it went away for a few hours during the daylight. Then it came back.
Sometimes, with the others, Ambrose drank hot water just to have some feeling in his belly, but the water didn’t make the empty feeling go away. From the dreaded gnawing, it would progress to a sense of weakness. At the really bad moments, when he sat or lay in the darkness, he could feel his strength draining from his extremities toward the center of his body, a sense that his vital parts were demanding nourishment, and his blood was pulling his energy inward like a turtle retracting its head and legs.
At those moments, Ambrose felt himself becoming weaker and, truly, when he stood up afterward he felt as though his body would not do what he asked, chop wood or walk far. At such moments there was no question of returning to the den he shared with Cecily. He sat down or lay back and hoped for that terrible draining, weakening sensation to go away.
It didn’t take long to reach the clearing on the north shore. What was left of Rudy’s shelter was barely visible under the deep snow, but it was enough to mark the shallow grave where they had left Rudy’s body two months before.
Ambrose went to work. Under a stiff, frozen tarpaulin and a few inches of frozen dirt lay a hundred pounds of frozen meat. It was time.
There was a layer of fresh powder and then a crust, but the crust was thin and Ambrose broke it with his boot heel, quickly uncovering Rudy’s grave. The blue tarp just showed through the dirt. They had dumped enough soil on top of the tarp so the foxes and raccoons wouldn’t find it interesting. With the body frozen, there would be no smell. On that, at least, they had been right. There was no sign of animal digging.
Ambrose pushed the soil back with his gloved hands, standing from time to time to kick at a heavy frozen clod with his boots, then working again on his knees until the blue tarp over Rudy’s body was uncovered. He tugged at the corners of the tarp near where he knew Rudy’s head would be. It took some more kicking and digging until the corners came free. Then he pulled the tarp back slowly, one corner, then the other. There was Rudy. Frozen solid. His once-dark face was nearly white, ashen. One hand stuck off awkwardly to the side, the head turned back in the direction of the main camp.
Ambrose slid his hunting knife carefully out of its sheath and slowly, fearfully, began cutting the back of Rudy’s parka pants.

“Do you think they’ll do it?” Janice McNeely said. She was staring at the #12 monitor.
Jimmy Asaki looked up. “Yes,” he said. “They’re starving.”
“They’ve uncovered him. Look.”
“I see.”
“If they do it, do you think Bud will air it?”
“Maybe they’ll keep it away from the open mikes.”
“I don’t think they care about that anymore. I don’t think they care what reaches the open lines. They’re fighting for their lives.”

 photo Phil-Harvey.png










About the Author:

Phil Harvey’s fiction has appeared in twenty-two literary magazines, including Phantasmagoria, which nominated one of his stories for a Pushcart Prize, and Antietam Review, which named another the winner of its annual contest. Most recently his work has appeared in The MacGuffin, Natural Bridge, and the Dos Passos Review.

Harvey’ nonfiction includes: Let Every Child Be Wanted, which drew praise from former President Jimmy Carter; Government Creep, which, as one reviewer noted, “proves that government has invaded virtually every nook and cranny of our lives,” and The Government vs. Erotica, which Publishers Weekly and Booklist praised, the ALA Intellectual Freedom Roundtable nominated as the year’s best book on intellectual freedom, and Media Coalition called “a frightening, enlightening story.”

By day, Phil Harvey is president of DKT International, a non-profit family planning and AIDS prevention organization, and president and majority shareholder of Adam & Eve, a mail-order business that sells sexually oriented books and films.

He lives with his wife, Harriet Lesser, in Cabin John, Maryland. He is stepfather and grandfather to several very promising kids. He welcomes emails from readers who have serious and thoughtful questions about any of his stories, novels or books.

 photo JGBSLogo.png

Stake Out & Storm Rise: Double Trouble

StakeOut Stormrise Tour Banner

Title: Stake-Out

Series: Paranormal Book Detectives #1

Author: Lily Luchesi

Published: May 19th, 2015

Publisher: Vamptasy Publishing

Genre: Paranormal

Content Warning: Graphic violence and adult language

Age Recommendation: 17+


Detective Danny Mancini is on a case, following a murder suspect. When he catches him, he finds out that the perp isn’t even human: he’s a 200 year old rogue vampire!

The department doesn’t believe him, and puts him on early retirement, despite his many years of service to the Chicago Police Department, which sends him into a downward spiral.

Two years later, Danny gets an invitation from the beautiful, young and very attractive Detective Angelica Cross to join a secret branch of the FBI to help her track down Vincent, the wayward vamp.

But renegade werewolves, meddling immortal witches and Danny’s strange visions of a life lived a century ago with Angelica make things more difficult than it should be.

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | GoodReads

 Grab your copy of Stake-Out on SALE for only 99 cents! This sale will only last the duration of the tour so don’t miss out!

“Should I…say something? A prayer?” he asked Angelica, uncertain.

“Only if it makes you feel better,” she said. “Better off saving your breath until you’ve finished your duties. After that, say all the prayers you want for your friend.”
He sighed, and started reciting the Hail Mary in his mind, if only to distract him and steady his nerves for what he was about to do. He held the stake in place with his left hand and swung the hammer down with all his strength with his right. He felt the crunch of bone and the pressure of the muscles before the stake lodged itself into Camille’s heart.
Dark, cold and rancid blood spewed out of the wound, hitting him in the face. He didn’t tear his eyes away, however, from the hideous sight that was formerly his best friend. Her eyes–formerly bright green–snapped open; the whites were reddish and the irises were gone, it was all black pupil. Her formerly wide and friendly mouth opened. He watched, as if in slow motion, the jaw widen and distend beyond any lengths humanly possible, as Vincent’s had two years prior, as he had attacked that girl. The fangs were fully extended and as sharp as the very stake he’d used on her. But was the absolute worst, above the aforementioned atrocities, was the shriek that emitted from her throat. It started out softly, like a kitten whining, but it steadily and rapidly got louder until it resembled a cross between nails on a blackboard, a bat’s call and a demonic crow’s caw. He wanted to cover his ears, close his eyes, and rock like a baby until the men in the white coats came to take him away. But he couldn’t. He knew that he needed to save Camille’s soul before he lost whatever remained of his mind.
He dropped the hammer to the floor of the grave and grabbed the dagger Angelica handed him. The shriek stopped, mercifully, but the sound still reverberated in his ears. He wondered idly if he’d have hearing damage. He looked at Camille. Blood was covering her uniform, splattered on her hands, arms and face. Blood also trickled from her mouth (where she’d gnashed her fangs against her lower lip) and nose. Her eyes followed his movements, filled with blind hate and hunger. Her fanged mouth was set in a vicious grimace. Any pity he’d had for Camille vanished. This thing was not his partner and he was going to rid the world of this abomination once and for all.
He brandished the dagger and Camille looked at him even more hatefully. With a simple swipe, he severed the head from the body. Blood oozed out below the head and onto the white lining of the coffin before the eyes faded back to Camille’s natural green and the fangs retreated back into her gums. She was no longer a monster and her soul was set free.

Lily Luchesi

Lily Luchesi is a young author/poet born in Chicago, Illinois, now residing in Los Angeles, California. Ever since she was a toddler her mother noticed her tendency for being interested in all things “dark”. At two she became infatuated with vampires and ghosts, and that infatuation turned into a lifestyle by the time she was twelve, and, as her family has always been what they now call “Gothic”, she doesn’t believe she shall ever change. She is also a hopeless romantic and avid music-lover, and will always associate vampires with love, blood and rock and roll. Her interest in poetry came around the same time as when she was given a book of Edgar Allan Poe’s complete work. She then realized that she had been writing her own poetry since she could hold a pen, and just had not known the correct terms. She finished her first manuscript at the age of fourteen, and now, at twenty-one, has two contributing credits in anthologies and a debut novel, Stake-Out, was published by Vamptasy Publishing on May 19th, 2015.

She had a short story titled “Undead Ever After” in the Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly anthology Love Sucks, published on June 13th, 2015.

Her short (LGBTQA) erotic horror story “The Devil’s Dozen” will be published in the Hot Ink Press anthology Death, Love and Lust (release date TBA).

Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Website



Title: Stormrise

Series: The Storm Chronicles #1

Author: Skye Knizley

Published: October 31st, 2013

Publisher: Vamptasy Publishing

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Content Warning: R-rated action, violence, and sexual content

Age Recommendation: 16+

Life isn’t easy for Detective Raven Storm. Her best friend was recently killed and dismembered, her latest case ended with her partner in intensive care, and her mother, the vampiric Mistress of the City is playing matchmaker… again. The last thing she wants is another bizarre murder case with a partner she doesn’t know. But that is exactly what she gets when she is handed the enigmatic case of Nathan King, who was found in his car with a gaping hole where his stomach should be.

Soon Raven is unraveling a mystery that leads her deep into the city’s preternatural underworld, and into the arms of a sexy vampire she barely knows, but whose heart she seeks in the darkness…

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | GoodReads

Grab your copy of Stormrise on SALE for only $1.99! This sale will only last the duration of the tour so don’t miss out!

The neon lights of the ‘All Live, All Nude’ sign flickered in the rain, showering the street with sparks that sizzled and flared in the cold night, an electric cadence to match the distant rumble of thunder as dark clouds continued to roll in off the lake and blanket the Windy City in an autumnal thunderstorm. Detective Raven Storm stood beneath the sparking sign, her pale skin contrasting with a waterfall of hair so red it was almost black. Her green eyes glowed with a feral light in the alternating flashes of lightning from the storm and sparks showering from the tilting sign above.
Raven’s heels clicked on the sidewalk and splashed in puddles as she walked back and forth in the shadows, her stylish grey pantsuit and silk blouse darkened where the cold rain had soaked through. She didn’t notice the chill. She was watching the apartment building opposite the club for her latest and only suspect in a series of brutal murders that had taken the lives of seventeen women in the last three weeks. The news called him the Lakeside Strangler; the details of his savage attacks had been leaked to the press and the city had been in a panic ever since. She was going to end his killing spree tonight, one way or another.
Shortly before one in the morning she saw him: a young heartthrob, his black suit and fedora drenched with rain. He held an umbrella in one hand, a gorgeous young woman’s arm in the other, keeping her safe from the rain under the umbrella while he got soaked. Raven watched the couple enter the old apartment building, her heart beating faster. She didn’t want to wait, didn’t want to endanger another woman, but she had to be sure. The suspect had evaded her before and this could be just a young couple out for a lark; she’d had only a glimpse of his face before he had vanished into the darkness. Shooting the wrong guy would be bad form and lead to red tape.
Raven held her ground, waiting until the pair had entered the elevator before sprinting across the street and bounding up the stairs two at a time, her balance perfect as she ran, her heels ringing out on the ground. She slid to a halt in front of the elevators and rang for the car, tapping one heel against the floor while she waited for the doors to open, hoping she wouldn’t again be too late or that she would be wrong altogether.
Seconds later she stepped out on the twelfth floor of the building. The suspect’s apartment was at the end of the hall and Raven jogged towards it, her senses stretched to the maximum. When she reached the apartment, she pressed her ear to the steel security door and listened intently. Somewhere inside she could hear the couple kissing and the faint rustle of the woman’s dress as the man pawed at her. The sound of kissing ended abruptly; in her mind’s eye Raven saw her suspect pulling his victim’s dress over her head before wrapping his hands around her slender neck. She could wait no longer; if he followed the pattern he would soon strangle and rape his victim and make his escape. With a single, powerful blow, she kicked the door open and crashed through, her left hand drawing the stainless-steel Automag pistol from its holster beneath her jacket.
She had been right. The suspect was kneeling over the woman, her dress draped over his shoulders like a cape, his hands wrapped around her slender throat in a vice-like grip. The woman writhed and gasped for air, her legs flailing between his thighs as she fought to escape.
“Chicago Police!” Raven yelled, the gun pointed evenly at the man’s head. “Release the woman and freeze!”
The suspect smiled and raised his hands, allowing the woman between his knees to wheeze and cough for breath.
“Of course, officer,” he said in a German-accented voice. “Have I done something wrong? My girlfriend and I were just having a little exotic fun!”
“Shut up and keep your hands where I can see them.” Raven moved closer, her eyes flicking between the gasping woman and the suspect. “You are under arrest for battery and second-degree assault!”
“I think not, officer,” he replied gleefully. “I find prison to be so boring and confining. Catch me if you can!”
The man moved in a blur, leaping to his feet and rushing towards the young detective with his arms stretched wide.
Raven fired twice, but he was so supernaturally quick that her shots went wide, punching melon-sized holes in the wall behind him. She didn’t have time to adjust her aim before the large man slammed into her, knocking her to the floor. Her head cracked against the hard tile flooring and stars jumped behind her eyes, making them water. When she could see again, he was straddling her, his wine-scented breath warm in her nose.
“Now, I’ll kill you, and then take my pleasure with her,” he crowed, saliva trailing from his lips. “Two damsels for the price of one; what could be better? Such a beautiful dark and stormy night!”
Raven growled and writhed under the larger man, recoiling in disgust as she felt his swelling manhood pressed against her thigh.
“I’m a Chicago police officer,” she said between clenched teeth. “You kill me and you’ll be out of options. You’ll have nowhere to run and it will be life in prison without parole. Let me go and give yourself up!”
The killer leaned closer, his tongue trailing over Raven’s cheek before he whispered, “Oh! No! No, no, no! I have given you a death sentence and it will be carried out! Once you are dead I’ll have all the options in the world. Do I take your body or kill the other one? Do I take her then kill her? Kill her then take her? Decisions, decisions, it’s so hard to choose; I’m giddy with anticipation!”
Giggling like a maniac, he ground his crotch into Raven’s thigh, moaning with lust and perverse pleasure at the feeling of the helpless woman beneath him.
Raven snarled and closed her eyes tight, ignoring the madman on top of her. When she opened them again, her green eyes glowed with power, the black pupils becoming the feral slits of a predatory cat. With a growl, she head-butted the man, breaking his nose and causing him to loosen his grip. She then pushed him away with all her strength, sending him flying across the room to land painfully on top of an antique side table.
“I’m also,” she said, regaining her feet, “the youngest child of Valentina, Mistress of the City. Surrender and I’ll see you get a fair trial before they lock your ass away. Keep fighting me and I’ll surely pull your head off!”
The killer rolled off the side table and stretched, his back cracking loudly.
“Ah, you would be the Mistress’s bastard child, then!” he replied with a sneer. “The pathetic half-vampire! Your father was a police detective too, wasn’t he? Dead before his time? Head all blown off with his own gun? It will be a pleasure to feel your corpse cool beneath me as I take you one last time!”
Still grinning, the killer shook, his skin melting and flowing like butter in the sun, his shape exploding outward until he looked altogether alien. He blinked huge, multifaceted eyes and flexed claws longer than Raven’s entire arm, each joint cracking as bones settled into place.
“A doppelganger!” Raven breathed. “No wonder you were so hard to catch.”
“Indeed,” the creature replied in a chorus of voices. “Our body is legion, and when we finish with you, we will move on and continue our work elsewhere! So many beautiful women, so little time, as they say!”


Skye Kinzley

Skye Knizley lives officially in the middle of nowhere. Really, it is.

When at home she spends her time writing urban fantasy novels including the best-selling Storm Chronicles series and the Midnight Roads, a series loosely based on her own travels around the country. Her debut ‘Chronicles novel, Stormrise, struck gold less than twenty four hours from being unleashed on an unsuspecting public, hitting best seller status in three categories in the US, UK, Australia and Canada. Her additional novels have all followed suit and she has no plans to stop writing any time soon.

If she’s not setting quill to parchment Skye can be found hiking with her Siberian Husky, camping, motorcycling, ghost hunting, or gaming.

Skye is a proud Wicca, musician and gamer girl and will happily discuss any of those topics. And no, practicing Wicca doesn’t mean she dances naked around stone circles. As far as you know.

Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Blog

Skye has been kind enough to tell us her top 

10 favorite TV or book detectives/mystery solvers

In no particular order:

Sherlock Holmes

Jaz Parks


Nancy Drew

Kate Beckett

Modesty Blaze

Gemma James

Dinah Lance (Black Canary comics)

Alex Drake

Veronica Mars



Don’t miss the fourth book in the Storm Chronicles, Shadowstorm, due to be released August 29th.

Also, be sure to join the Facebook release party!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

JGBS Logo Bkg SM