Book Title: Constellations 
Book Author: Bree M. Lewandowski
Rating: 5 Dragon Paws 
A very beautiful cover!
Wow, this book (short story) was the fastest read like ever. Less than 20 minutes. So, if you guys are interested in a fast read, pick this baby up. It would give you a chance to see how Bree writes. I read her other books and I have to say she’s a great writer.
This story was confusing to me but it has great meaning. I’m glad Leon listened to the stars.
To celebrate the release of Alan Hurst’s debut novel, The Onyx Crown, we are having a week-long book blitz!
Read the entire post for the exclusive excerpt and a chance to win a digital copy of the book!!!
The Onyx Crown #1
Publication Date: January 27th, 2019
Genre: Fantasy/ Adventure
The Onyx Crown is an exciting foray into the world of African fantasy. From the searing heat of the desert to the vastness of the savannah, it tells the story of three children–Sania, Gesi, and Jorann who grow up in a pre-medieval era of wars and successions, not fifteen years after the greatest king in the history of the continent has been deposed and assassinated. They must overcome the traumatic circumstances of their birth as well as many dangerous trials to fulfill the destiny bestowed upon them as infants. Can mere children use their courage, wits, and uncanny abilities to defeat legendary warriors, entire tribes, provinces, and kingdoms–allowing them to lead the worthy to the greatest prize of all, the Onyx Crown?
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Excerpt
For the next few days, the three of them did virtually everything together, including games, horse riding, and spear training with the First Knight, who seemed to be getting sterner and tougher on them with every lesson. The First Knight, whose given name was Jorell Boro, was famed throughout the fourteen provinces as one of the best living warriors of all time. He’d made his name fighting for the upstart Regent Okon in his war of usurpation against the High King Toloron.
After Toloron was defeated, the regent rewarded Boro with the titles of First Knight of the Crown, Protector of the House of the First Prince, and the moniker “the Bloodless Death,” because supposedly his bladed spear could kill a person so quickly and with such precision that they would be dead before any blood was even visible.
Okon, along with the ruling conclave, also granted a treaty to Pala Jorell’s home kingdom of East Rhydor, including a guarantee that no Numerian troops would invade as long as the East Rhydor king or his son, the prince, were in power.
The First Prince had asked Pala Jorell to begin instructing Zadeemo in the ways of knighthood, and also Gesemni himself, most likely reasoning that Zadeemo would need a sparring partner when the First Prince was absent.
The First Knight had been reluctant to train a “commoner” in the higher arts of warfare but, at the insistence of both the First Prince and Zadeemo, had relented. Still, one could tell he took The Onyx Crown -26- great pains to make sure that Zadeemo understood some of the finer points of the moves he instructed, while not deigning to help Gesi.
Luckily for Gesi, he had tremendous aptitude and seemingly a womb-borne comprehension of instinctual combat. As such, he rarely needed the extra tutoring that Zadeemo couldn’t seem to do without. On this day, the two of them were instructed for quite some time on hand-spear counters, an ancient method of grappling that involved an unarmed warrior wresting the control of spears and other long objects away from their adversary. It was an extremely rough and unpolished method of fighting, and the First Knight took the better part of the morning explaining it to them.
Finally, the paladin suggested they work the puzzling elements out with a few rounds of sparring. Boro handed him a bladed spear and marked out a circle four en-yawo in diameter with his carving knife. Zadeemo was given a pair of lyocell gloves, which felt like silk but were made from the toughest fibers in existence. These were to be used to protect his hands from blade cuts.
Gesi shifted nervously. Always when they’d fought before they’d both been armed. Oddly, there’s a certain amount of safety involved when two weapons compete against each other. But with Zadeemo being unarmed, Gesi felt he’d have to be very careful. He was also very conscious of Zoe sitting on her tilbury, watching them both amusedly.
“Engage!” The First Knight’s voice rang out through the square as the boys stepped into the circle. Zadeemo immediately lowered his stance, thrusting the heel of his boot inside Gesi’s left calf to disrupt his balance, simultaneously snatching at the bladed spear handle.
Shuffle-stepping to counter, Gesi twisted the blade ninety degrees, forcing Zadeemo to withdraw his hands. He knew he was supposed to be nothing more than a punching target for Zadeemo, but in situations like this, his stubborn, competitive imoya always got in the way of things, and yes…he also wanted to show off a bit in front of Zoe.
Surprisingly, Zadeemo must’ve anticipated his counter because he nimbly moved to his left, crashing his knee into Gesi’s right thigh and causing him to grimace. Ducking underneath the spear, Zadeemo swung his right elbow fiercely into Gesi’s solar plexus. The few servants and townspeople who were looking on cheered loudly, including Zoe.
At that second, he felt like he was going to black out. Zadeemo may have been slower than a stuck rhino, but he had strength far beyond what most twelve-year-olds could muster.
Instinctively, he twisted his bladed spear to block the next grasping move he felt was coming, slid his left knee under Zadeemo’s right, and reverse-swung the spear in a sweeping arc toward Zadeemo’s chest. The cheering stopped, followed by a deathly silence as Zadeemo crashed down to the dirt awkwardly. Everyone was staring at Gesi. Some looked angry, some fearful, some puzzled. Even he didn’t know how he’d won.
*Available Now*
For your chance to win a digital copy of this exciting new fantasy, click the link below!
About the Author
Alan Hurst is an author and entrepeneur. Hurst who spent most of his childhood reading Asian wuxia fiction, Marvel comics and encyclopedias is delving into trilogy territory with THE ONYX CROWN. He briefly studied religion at Harvard. Later, he settled in Washington, DC where he founded a software consulting firm, hosted the Urban Nation Radio podcast, and occasionally played the World Series of Poker. When not writing or enjoying time with his family, he prefers to take his Ducati motorcycle out for the occasional spin!
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Welcome to the Touch of Smoke tour! This beauty is the latest offering from author, Karissa Laurel. If you like your romance mixed with the supernatural, then this book is for you!
In addition to an exclusive excerpt, you will also have the chance to win a signed paperback copy, and some sweet bookish swag! Be sure to enter the giveaway at the bottom!
I love the cover. It’s so magical and cute.
Touch of Smoke
Publication Date: February 12th, 2019
Publisher: Red Adept Publishing
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Three years ago, Rikki Albemarle watched her best friend die at the hands of a supernatural evil. Certain she was slated to be the next victim, Rikki fled her small Smoky Mountain hometown, vowing to never come back. Plagued by nightmares and knowing she’s the only one who believes Mina’s death was no accident, Rikki returns with hopes of finding answers and holding the killer accountable.
Rikki is convinced the key to unlocking the secret of Mina’s death lies with Owen Amir, the alluring young army vet who once claimed her heart. But the deeper Rikki digs into Owen’s past, the more she’s torn between the urgings of her heart and her memories of him on the night Mina died.
After falling further into the rabbit hole, Rikki lands at the feet of an ancient and powerful evil determined to finish what it started years before. To survive, she’ll have to make a decision: believe Owen is the monster she always feared he might be or trust him enough to stay and fight for a second chance at love.
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Excerpt
Owen huffed and shook his head but fished in his pocket until he found a small key ring. He selected an old brass one that he jiggled into the bolt lock over the warehouse’s rusty door handle. “Would have told you to put on jeans and boots if I’d known you wanted to go inside.”
Glancing at my shredded jean shorts and low-cut Chuck Taylors, I thanked Jesus I’d recently boosted my tetanus shot. “Not asking for a grand tour. Show me what you can from the threshold.”
Owen shook his head again, but he shoved his shoulder against the heavy door. It squealed as it gave way, swinging open on rusted hinges. I pushed past him, stepping farther into the room, but stopped at the edge of the small illuminated square thrown by Dolly’s headlights. “Just give me the general idea.”
His boot steps echoed in the open space as he moved behind me. Taking my shoulders, he shifted me until I faced the warehouse’s rear, where the light failed to reach. “The back wall there”—he pointed, leaning over my shoulder—“will be where we’ll line up the distilling tanks.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and spun us around like partners in a slow dance. A warm thrill raced through me as his lips brushed my ear. “And over there will be the café.”
My pulse throbbed in my ears, my chest, my lips. It wouldn’t be enough, these limited touches, these coy games, this not-so-subtle flirtation. With Owen, my options were sink or swim, and no matter how much reason and logic urged me to do otherwise, I was sinking, utterly drowning in him. I stumbled back and fought for a breath to clear my head, but my heel connected with an obstacle hidden in the shadows. I lost my footing and squeaked a feeble protest as gravity waged war against my balance.
The moment I was certain I would hit the floor and smash my tailbone, Owen grabbed my arm and yanked. Still off balance but with the added element of momentum, I plowed into him, tackling him to the floor.
Or that was what should have happened.
Instead, the world jumped up and swirled around me in a blur of blue sparks and shadows, air roaring in my ears like a tornado. I blinked, and the impression of someone—or something—huge, dark, and beastly burned behind my eyelids. When the dizzy moment passed, I found myself back on my feet, upright, and firmly wrapped in Owen’s arms. His heat blazed against me, filling my head with his smoky scent until I felt drunk and woozy.
“What…?” I shook my head and cleared my throat, but the intoxicating sensation remained. “What just happened?”
“You stumbled. I caught you.”
“No.” I squirmed, and he dropped his arms, releasing me. A thousand minuscule candles seemed to flicker in his eyes, giving them an otherworldly aura. I inched back, my steps wobbly. “We were falling. We should have hit the floor.”
His lips twitched. “I’m quick on my feet, Rikki. Give me some credit.”
Squinting, I studied him, his wide stance and the set of his jaw, full of self-confidence. He rolled his broad shoulders and grinned, obviously enjoying my scrutiny. Again, his presence seemed larger than the mere height and width of his physical body. Like a cowl and cape, dense shadows draped over him, and they seemed tangible enough to touch. When I reached out to stroke them, Owen drew back.
The shadows fled.
I shivered.
With no better explanation than to assume an overdose of adrenaline and desire had colored my perception, I dismissed my concerns and shrugged, heading for the door. “You’re not quick on your feet. You’re The Flash on steroids.”
His laughter followed me into the parking lot, but it was callous and more than a little cold.
The drive to my house was quiet, the atmosphere between us thick. If humans had animal instincts, then the wild creature inside me was insisting the man sitting in the passenger seat was more predator than appearance suggested. Something about Owen had changed. He was a tiger, I was his mouse, and I should run before he swallowed me whole. When I caught him staring at me, the dark look on his face implied he might do that very thing, given the chance.
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For your chance to win a signed copy of Touch of Smoke and some cool bookish swag, click the link below!
About the Author
Karissa lives in North Carolina with her kid, her husband, the occasional in-law, and a very hairy husky. Some of her favorite things are coffee, chocolate, and super heroes. She can quote Princess Bride verbatim. She loves to read and has a sweet tooth for fantasy, sci-fi, and anything in between. In the summer, she loves to be on the water, on the boat or in her kayak. When it snows, you’ll find her on the slopes.
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Blog Tour Schedule
March 11th
Reads & Reels (Review) http://www.readsandreels.com
Where Dragons Reside (Excerpt) https://kernerangelina.live/
Crystal’s Book World (Excerpt) http://crystalsbookworld.wordpress.com
The Writer’s Alley (Review) https://www.jacobrundle.com
March 12th
The Most Sublime (Review) https://themostsublime.com
Breakeven Books (Excerpt) https://breakevenbooks.com
March 13th
SnoopyDoo’s Book Reviews (Excerpt) http://snoopydoosbookreviews.com/
March 14th
Bobo’s Book Bank (Excerpt) http://bobosbookbank.com
J Bronder Book Reviews (Review) https://jbronderbookreviews.com/
Jessica Rachow (Review) http://jessicarachow.wordpress.com
March 15th
Misty’s Book Space (Excerpt) http://mistysbookspace.wordpress.com
The Hufflepuff Nerdette (Review) https://thehufflepuffnerdette.wordpress.com/
Blog Tour Organized By:
Recently, pirating of books has been a popular topic. I will not point out names and or personal information, but I’ll let you guys know what goes into publishing a book, besides writing it.
It takes an author to write a book- anything from a day to years.
Before publishing The Scented Bones, I’ve worked on it for 5 years. It took about 3 weeks to write Follow The Snowflakes. It took a little longer than a year to write Seven Hours. It took about 10 years to write Deity’s Soulmate.
Authors don’t get paid to write. It’s done in our free time, which can be little since we have families, a job that pays the bills, life crises, and just living.
After we finish writing the book, we go through it several times – rewriting, editing, writing notes, thinking about marketing techniques and looking for editors that we can trust. Finding a good editor is tough, especially since most of them are online and it’s through online communication. I’m thankful that I have found several who I trust! They do an amazing job and I just adore them. Sometimes, they are willing to talk on the phone but that’s sometimes.
Editors cost money. And, they should. You should see how much red ink on an edited manuscript. Made me cry several times. Again, we pay out of our own pockets, anything from FREE (if there’s a promotion) to thousands of dollars.
Then, there are proofreaders, the cost range is the same as for editors. And, then there are beta readers, some charge. Although, you can find some amazing beta’s who read for free and build lasting friendships. ^_^ After a book is beta read, an author may add more to the book and resend those pages to his or her editor. More money. Again, authors don’t get paid to write so in order to use money for the book, the author has to give up something – like buying clothing and chocolate and snacks. Sometimes, they even wait to replace a car!
After all the writing and editing is done, there is the cover. Most of the time, the cover is done while the book is being edited. The author can’t very well look at the book so has the time for a book cover. Book covers are not free. They cost money, ranging in hundreds of dollars. Some authors who have artistic talent do their own covers, and some like me, use artistic family members so that’s where the money can be saved.
Then, there are expenses for the book tours, cover reveal parties, book trailer reveals, Facebook parties, actual live events. All that before the book is on SALE. The author is still not making money and actually may have given away some free copies. That of course, is about self-published authors. Traditional published authors, still spend a lot of money, less because they do have help from a publisher, but still still spend a lot of money.
Before I forget, there’s also merchandising. Authors order BLING – bookmarks, key chains, mugs, post cards, etc. On own dime! They send gifts to readers after the parties or during and the readers can get more than a signed book.
There are other expenses that I can’t think of, but here’s what you need to know of how much authors actually get from their books. If they are traditional authors, they probably get about 20%. The sales should be bigger so the author will get money back. Most self-published authors will not get their money back with their sales or it would take a LOT of time. They also may get about 20% or less, depending on with who they publish. From a print book that costs $15, they may get $5 if lucky. How many copies do they need to sell in order to get back what they spent?
An eye opener right?
And, there are people who are making more money than the actual authors by sharing the pirated copies. Readers aren’t supposed to share the copies they get from publishers and authors. There’s copyright issues and other things. Soon, authors will be asking readers to sign contracts that they won’t share their books. Authors put a lot of trust into their readers and I really hope that we won’t have to make some contracts. I trust my readers. But reading what has been happening makes me scared.
By readers downloading free copies, the author doesn’t make anything, not even that $5.
People are willing to spend $5 coffee that lasts maybe 20 minutes and not willing to buy books that last for forever? They don’t have to get a print book, they can get an ebook. Most ebooks are 99 cents! SO much cheaper than a coffee. There’s also Kindle Unlimited. There are options.
If you don’t have money to buy books but want to read, that’s great! There are options – becoming a book blogger. You get free books to review! You do something you love and get free copies. You may even receive a signed copy! Think how your bookshelf can grow with signed copies. That’s so special. Join Facebook author and reader groups. There are book promotion companies that host parties where you can win ebooks, signed copies, jewelry! You get to meet other book lovers and enjoy yourself. That’s so much better than pirating and stealing. Also, some books do have FREE days. Sign up for your favorite author newsletters and find out when their books are free. Not only will you get free books that way but will get to know some secrets that authors don’t share in their blogs or interview. So many great options.
When you buy an author’s book, you get so much more than an ebook file or a print book. You get an author’s spirit, energy that they put into writing those books, and love. Authors must love what they do or else they will not publish or spend personal money. They gave up that new car and got a used one. They gave up that new dress that they wanted to wear to a party and ended up wearing an older one and maybe even fixed it themselves. They gave up chocolate. They gave up time that they could have spend playing with their kids. The list goes on.
Authors gave up a lot to get their book published so it could get into your hands and so you can escape the reality of your life. Please don’t download their books illegally. Please respect them.
Thank you very much for your time.
Book Title: This Time 
Book Author: Azaaa Davis
Rating: 5 Dragon Paws
This was the second book that I won in my book reading club. ^_^
Has a trigger. If you’re afraid of the idea of being buried alive or waking up in a coffin, the first chapter may be a little much for you.
It took a while for me to get into enjoying the book. Azaaa introduces a world that the main character doesn’t know because she’s been dead for 25 years so I was as confused as the main character, even though I knew what the year was like haha
Once we meet more characters and get the idea of why things the way they are, the book becomes like amazing and I can’t read book 2 and 3. There is a cover reveal by the author in April for book 2. Nadira’s world is turned upside down after she wakes up from the dead, learning about her past. I think one of the most memorable moments is when she sees her dad.
Beautifully written book.
Great book for 18+ and older.
Book Title: The Nutcracker Curse: Cursed Fairy Tale: Book 1 
Book Author: Margo Ryerkerk
Rating: 5 Dragon Paws
This was the first book that I won in my book reading club. ^_^
You guys need to totally read it. I couldn’t put it down and had to read during my breaks and car drives and in the evening while my son was falling asleep.
This book needs to be a movie. The imagery is awesome and it has so many different characters like the fox and the ballerinas. I would totally love to meet the fox if I could ever meet a book character. ^_^
Great conversations, character growth, and a villain that is not forgotten. I liked the villain. It was also a first time for me to read about a mouse shifter. Nicely done!
This book is my top 10 book of 2019.
Great book for teens and older.
I’m pleased to share this new book with you all today! One Flew Through the Dragon Heart is the first book in a new steampunk series by C.S. Johnson.
Today I have an exclusive excerpt for you to read, and a chance to win a paperback copy of the book! Ohhh, love paperbacks! It’s a great read. Please read the entire post! You will love the excerpt and enter the giveaway.
One Flew Through the Dragon Heart
Publication Date:December 21st, 2018
Genre: Steampunk/ Fantasy
A Chinese Legend. A British Secret. Star-Crossed Lovers with Incompatible Magic.
Brixton Flew works as a professor of wielder instruction at Rembrandt Academy, hoping to erase the regrets of his youth along with the resulting debt. But when he comes face to face with his biggest regret—the woman who broke his heart, Adelaide Favan—Brixton soon realizes his troubles have only begun.
Unable to control her magic, Adelaide knew leaving Brixton was the only way to protect him when they were younger. Now she discovers he is the key to recovering the Dragon Eyes, a legendary treasure connected to her magic and her family’s disgraced legacy—and she knows the risk is great, to both his life and her heart.
With others seeking the power of the Dragon Eyes, Brixton and Adelaide must outwit their foes and face down their families to save London from an ancient legend that sleeps beneath the magic portal in their city.
But the renewed passion growing between them may prove to be the greater peril …
One Flew Through the Dragon Heart is the first book in a new steampunk series by C.S. Johnson, blending together history, romance, mecha-dragons and magic against the glittering backdrop of 1880’s Victorian London.
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Book Review
Rating: 5 Dragon Paws
This book is really good. I can tell that the author did a lot of research. It’s one of those books that you can stop reading for a while and get back to it without a problem. I think my favorite character (if you can call him that) is Ticker. I also like the sister. She’s smart and acts her age…most of the time.
For readers 18 and over, although some teens may enjoy.
Excerpt
“Brixton.”
His sixteen-year-old self was scurrying past the materials room when he heard his name spoken with a soft, foreign lilt. The sound broke through him like a magic spell, disrupting his intellectual musings and forcing him into an uncomfortable position.
He was in a hurry; his professor would be upset if he was late for class. As a star pupil, Brixton knew he had a certain reputation to live up to, and he had learned well not to call any negative attention to himself.
But at the sound of Adelaide Favan calling for him, he felt helpless—helplessly nervous and helplessly intrigued. It was almost as if some part of him had been waiting for her to call, and he had been more than ready to answer.
Out of guilt, if nothing else.
He nearly lost his grip on the stack of books he carried as he stumbled to a stop and glanced back at the doorway to the materials room. He could see a slim shadow at the back, where her dark skirts whipped around as she moved between stations, pulling out supplies and looking for spare coils, cogs, or anything else she decided she needed.
He did not have the faintest notion why she would be calling him. Adelaide never seemed to talk to anyone unless it was out of necessity.
“Are you coming in or not?” Adelaide straightened, looking up at him from behind a thick pair of black-rimmed goggles, the kind that magnified her eyes behind the protective glass.
Brixton felt a quick twinge of regret. She always wore them when she was working on something. He had a sinking feeling he was going to be late for class—but he stepped into the room regardless.
“I’m surprised,” she said as he tentatively approached her.
“Why? You were the one who called me.”
“Is that what I need to do to get your attention?” Adelaide put her hands on her hips as she stepped back from the table, where a box full of wires and screws and other various building materials winked up at him.
Brixton felt his face turn red. “If you’re talking about earlier, I—”
“I don’t want to talk about earlier,” Adelaide said. “You know who my father is. Do you think your friends are the first people to make fun of me because of my family?”
“They’re not my friends. Not exactly.” Brixton sighed. “They’re just people we go to school with. You don’t have to be friends with them. You just have to get along with them until we graduate.”
“Is that your plan?”
He shifted his feet as the clocks chimed loudly, the pleasant ringing turning sour in his ears. He was officially late for class. Brixton glanced back at the door.
Adelaide did not pay attention to the clock. She saw to her work, fiddling with one of the gearshifts. Brixton noticed she was also still wearing her workshop gloves. Along with her goggles, they were a semi-permanent part of her wardrobe. They were thick and black, going up past her elbows. The school issued them as part of the engineering department; Brixton hated wearing them, since the synthetic material of the gloves interfered with his ability to use magic. Adelaide was the only one who consistently wore them.
“It’s mostly my plan,” he said, finally answering her.
“Seems like a silly plan, especially for the next four years.”
“Earlier, when those girls were picking on you, I didn’t say anything—”
“I said I didn’t want to talk about earlier. People have made comments about me all my life. Getting accepted into Rembrandt two years earlier than everyone else is merely another unearned privilege in their eyes.”
Her voice was calm, but Brixton saw that her fingers, even buried in her large gloves, shook ever so slightly.
“I don’t presume—”
“But you do.” Adelaide pushed up her goggles onto her forehead again, brushing back her long black hair.
Brixton hated how he stared at her. Up close, her eyes were cloudy gray, speckled over with a silver lining. He noticed they were slanted, ever so slightly; along with her flattened nose and full lips, there were plenty of hints at her Chinese heritage. He had heard the whispers of her family, especially her father, the famous Captain Favan who led Her Royal Majesty’s Airship Force.
That was one of the main reasons he had tried to befriend her before. Brixton had approached her when she was first introduced to their class, eager to talk about her father’s legacy and how it was his dream to be in the Airship Force one day, too. Adelaide had ignored him then, brushing off his introduction.
Remembering that, he frowned. She has some nerve, admonishing me for poor manners.
He cleared his throat to give himself a moment to recover. “You should know you’re presuming that I’m presuming something. I don’t know you well enough to presume anything.”
For the first time, Adelaide softened her expression. Brixton briefly wondered if he had hurt her feelings, or if it was possible he had successfully pointed out her double standards.
She tugged the goggles down over her eyes a moment later, returning to the project before her. She said nothing as she picked up a suturing iron and began to burn a twisted bunch of wires together.
For a long moment, Brixton watched her. Despite her gloves, her movements were very precise—so precise that they almost seemed awkward.
Just like the rest of her, he thought with a small smile.
Adelaide was fourteen years old, two years younger than everyone else at Rembrandt. She had transferred into the school during the middle of their second semester, and ever since their failed first meeting, Brixton kept his distance from her, even if he continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye. He knew the others in his class teased her for her youth, her connections, and her ancestry.
He could sympathize with her some in that regard, given he received plenty of his own mockery. He was only at Rembrandt because of his scholarship. Most of the students were from the aristocracy, and the idea of rich merchants or lower-class workers—such as his parents—sending their children to Rembrandt was nothing short of scandalous.
He easily dismissed those who badgered him; he was here for an education, and nothing more.
But as Brixton gazed down at Adelaide, he suddenly wondered if she was able to do the same.
She was such a small thing. She was not only two years his junior, but she was also at least a foot shorter. The Rembrandt Academy uniform nearly swallowed up her body. He could see her vest was pinned in the back, and her long skirt was clearly hemmed. Brixton had a feeling she liked to wear the goggles on her forehead if for no other reason than they lent her another two inches in height.
“Why did you call me?” Brixton asked, daring himself to speak again.
Adelaide bit her lip, and Brixton found himself staring again.
Finally, she sighed. “I need you.”
His breath caught and his body went still. He was only able to move after she added, “I need your help.”
The words came out with a ripe bitterness in each syllable, and Brixton almost laughed at her discomfort. It was clear she never asked for help if she could avoid it.
He cleared this throat again, swallowing the last of his laughter, and nodded. “Tell me what it is.”
“I need help assembling this,” Adelaide said, pointing to the neat array of metal scraps and parts before her.
“What is it?”
“A dragon heart.”
“Beg pardon?” Brixton dropped his books, missing the table and causing them to clatter to the floor. He was certain he had misheard her as he bent to pick them up, but he was even more surprised when she laughed.
Her eyes were pushed back into slits behind her goggles, giving her a wizened, animated look as her smile widened. Brixton stared at her as he picked up his books and stacked them neatly beside hers.
“I’m only kidding,” Adelaide said, before she arched her brow. “Or maybe I’m not. Either way, I need your help with this part.”
She opened the top panel and pointed to a small knot of wires lined with alloy and copper. “This is an energy loop I’ve been working on. It’s a special type of power source. The Board wants to develop more efficient batteries, especially since the Edison Project has shown promise. Now they want to see what the wielders can do to improve it.”
“I talked with Professor Ohm about this,” Brixton said. “He wanted to find a way to generate perpetual energy. He thought electricity could possibly be infused with magic.”
“I know. I overheard your conversation after class a few days ago.”
“You did?” Brixton took the suturing iron out of her hand.
“He was dismissive of the idea as an alternative life source, but he was interested in seeing if you could figure out how to make his own theories work.”
He bit down on his cheek. He knew which conversation Adelaide was referring to, and it was one where Professor Ohm spent several minutes admonishing him for his eclectic reading tastes.
“What?” Adelaide asked.
“It’s rude to eavesdrop.”
She jutted her chin forward. “It’s also rude to ignore people who need help.”
“I don’t know if you’re saying that to make me feel bad about before, or if it’s just to make sure I stay here and help you,” Brixton muttered. “Do you care to tell me which?”
“I have an extra pair of gloves if you need them,” Adelaide offered.
He rolled his eyes as she sidestepped his question. “I don’t use them if I can help it.” He called up the power that resided inside of him. He could feel it flowing from his heart down to his fingertips, filling his palm. “I like working with my hands better. It’s easier to conjure up my talent. That’s my magic, as you might have known already. I can build things. Anything, really.”
“Well, no wonder you’re so good at this.” Adelaide pouted as Brixton undid her work. “You’re using magic.”
“And you don’t? Why are you in school to be an engineering wielder if you’re not using magic?”
“I like working with machinery,” Adelaide said. “I’m here because Rembrandt produces the best engineers in London. The fact that it’s a magical school does nothing for me.”
“Do you even have magic at all? I thought that was a requirement for coming here.”
“It is.” Adelaide went silent, and for the first time, Brixton saw her blush. With the small patch of red on her cheeks, he could just make out a light trail of freckles across her nose.
“Ouch.” He flinched as the suturing iron slipped across his fingers.
“Pay attention to what you’re doing. You don’t have to worry about my talent right now. All you need to know is that it’s not helping me fix this.” She crossed her arms and looked away.
“Right.” Brixton turned back to the item in front of him.
Available on Amazon
About the Author
C. S. Johnson is the award-winning, genre-hopping author of several novels, including young adult sci-fi and fantasy adventures such as the Starlight Chronicles, the Once Upon a Princess saga, and the Divine Space Pirates trilogy. With a gift for sarcasm and an apologetic heart, she currently lives in Atlanta with her family. Find out more at http://www.csjohnson.me
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Feb. 25th
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Jessica Rachow (Review) http://jessicarachow.wordpress.com
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Feb. 26th
The Bookworm Drinketh (Review) http://thebookwormdrinketh.wordpress.com/
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Feb. 27th
Reading Nook (Excerpt) http://readingnook84.wordpress.com
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Feb. 28th
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Feb. 29th
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There are always some little truths in fiction books or else all fiction books would be science fiction… although in a way that’s true. In fiction books, we add a little romance and I’m not talking about just infatuation between characters but how we make characters almost perfect. Yes, we give them flaws to make them interesting but we also give them a chance to learn. Not all of us learn our lessons like our characters and other people could find very different solutions to those flaws, however, we shouldn’t stop trying. We need to romanticize our fiction selves because that’s what we would rather read.
We also romanticize our flaws, sometimes. Nowadays, I’m seeing in books, more curvy characters with funny quarks. It’s great. Curvy women or men need some fun plus it’s more realistic.
To romanticize like this is good. It’s all positive things. I have problems with the negativity in fiction books or to put it better, the negative events that are turned into positive ones. Those could in fact make some readers mad, especially if they had gone through it. One example is the sex games of role play where the couple pretends to be a victim and a robber.
Those happen in real life and in fiction…as I said there are some truths in fiction writing. However, people who play those games never had actual robbers appear in their homes. The goal of the robber is to steal and make sure not to leave witnesses, and if sex is involved, the victim is not a willing participant. An event like a robbery can steal voices of kids. It could leave forever images in the victims. Anything small can trigger those images to the surface. Feelings can resurface… not good ones. One reason why I like reading happy books is because they don’t hold strong triggers…most don’t.
Keeping to the example, when authors write robbery scenes, it’s either from their minds or experiences. To romanticize something like that in a sexual manner that is good for the victim is an insult. Of course, that is from my perspective. You’re free to let me know otherwise. Sex games are healthy for relationships, but not all of them are needed.
What’s the point of all this talk of fiction and truths – it’s the realism or as close as we can get to the events in books to be possible in one way or another. Details are key. We want our minds to travel different worlds which is why we read and watch movies. We want to escape but we also want to be connected to the characters. We want some aspects of realism. Even if we do love some sexy werewolves and witches, we want them to be teachers or forensic anthropologists. Some realism.
Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn’t.
When you read books, keep in mind that the author may put some truths into them. It could be theirs, it could be their friends or it could be a strangers. Anything is possible.
Gives one a perspective, right?
Book Title: Ella Dethroned 
Book Author: Brandon Barr
Rating: 5 Dragon Paws
I read this book because it was chosen in my Facebook book club group. Our leader chose well. Tamara chose this book because of another author who heard that Brandon, the author has recently lost his battle to cancer and passed away, leaving behind a family. A great thing and an amazing way to choose a book for the month. The world will miss such a talent. I really loved the book. Get this novella and Brandon’s other books.
The cover is gorgeous! I love how the light is placed around Ella. It has an other world feel to it. It’s a fast read with great characters. Ella is running for her life after being dethroned, but she’s not running just to escape but to complete a mission for the gods. Attention grabbing right there.
Tamara through this month asked questions about the story which really made me think. If I could turn into an animal it would be a wolf. There’s shapeshifting in this story. She also made us wonder about a character’s devotion and motivation which helped me like the book even more. Usually, I don’t really think about those when reviewing a book so this helped me gain a perspective for my future reviews. I really liked Rathan’s devotion to Ella.
Recommended for teens and older.
Still Not Satisfied
Publication Date: December 30th, 2010
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Christian Goodman loves the ladies. When an old girlfriend calls, it’s game on until her game plan forces him to the sidelines. While there, his grandmother and best friend lose faith in him. With no one left, he finds Dr. Devin Rainey in her own struggle. Christian enters her life only to serve as a reminder of what she is missing, thus, creating tension between the two. She fights to remain professional, but personal needs force her to leave Christian, too. Completely alone, he turns to an unlikely ally to assist him in his quest for satisfaction.
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Book Review
This is a well-written novel with complicated characters with great side characters. It’s not a feel good type of book but it has its moments, it’s more on the serious side of things about relationships and people. It’s a good book for an audience older than 20.
Excerpt
Moonlight dimly illuminated the room as Chris stumbled into his bathroom. He admired his silhouette as he walked past the mirror. Even his muscular frame was sexy in the darkness. Chris’ self-admiration was interrupted when he noticed a small figure reflecting in the corner of the mirror. His mind had always played tricks on him and, lately, the occurrence had been more consistent. As always, when he looked over his shoulder, nothing was there. This time would be no different.
When he returned to his bed, he found himself alone. His lady friend had dressed and left without making a sound although she left a note on his nightstand.
‘We really should stop this.’
Chris chuckled. “Lauren, that’s what you said the last time and the time before that.” Chris spoke as if talking to her. He crumpled the note and lay back on his poster bed. Deep down, he knew she was right. It was just a matter of time before Ellis found out.
As Chris stared into space, he hoped he would sleep peacefully this night. Just one night without the dream. Please, just one night.
Christian James Goodman was the epitome of a beautiful African-American man. Standing at six feet-two inches and 220 pounds, Chris defined sexy. His chiseled body and broad physique got him a lot of attention from the ladies. His warm smile and mocha color added to his style. His light hazel-green eyes simply perpetuated his swagger while his strong baritone voice made the women yearn with desire. Yes, Chris had several physical attributes that men would pay money for and the confidence to use them.
Chris was a scholar and an athlete. Having won two state championships in high school and a national championship at University of Tennessee, he looked destined for the NBA. Yet, a shattering knee injury in his senior year ended this dreams.
“God had other plans, baby.” His grandmother reminded him whenever he got down about his knee injury. After two years of playing overseas, he came back to his high school alma mater, Bradford High, as an assistant basketball coach. Christian patiently awaited his turn, now it was his first year as the head coach. The job couldn’t have come at a better time in his life.
Chris Goodman had everything he could possibly want. He had his new two-thousand square foot home in Dunwoody, an affluent suburb of Atlanta, his SUV to be practical and his motorcycle to be relaxed. He had more than his fair share of women and settling down was nowhere in his sight, that was until Mama Van brought it into his peripheral.
***
As she peered into the darkness, Angela wondered how she had gotten to this point. “Why me?” She asked aloud. “What did I do to deserve this?”
She had not been at work in a week. She had not eaten in days. She lacked personal hygiene. Despite the numerous phone calls and messages from family and friends, Angela never felt so alone. Her whole world was in her one-bedroom apartment. That was where she wanted to keep it.
She pulled out her journal and wrote to the one person who understood what she was going through.
Dear God,
I have got to get over him but before I do, I will make him feel the same pain I do everyday. My plan is to use his own devices to destroy him. It will be flawless. I know I am supposed to wait on You, but vengeance is all mine, Lord.
Love Angie
Angela slammed her journal shut and slid it off her desk. It landed with a loud thud. Then another thud, Angela collapsed on the floor next to the book and sobbed quietly. Her body quivered with cold. Her muscles rocked with pain. She eventually cried herself to sleep.
***
Christian woke to soaking wet sheets. His plea for a peaceful night fell on deaf ears as the same dream interrupted his night’s rest. He routinely woke with cold sweats, a hot body, and a rigid muscle. Nothing was different this morning.
His cell phone sang Tupac’s “Dear Mama”.
“Yes, ma’am?” Chris answered the phone just as the lyric, ‘Don’t you know we love you, sweet lady’ ended.
“Morning, baby. I just wanted to make sure you was up.” Mama Van’s chirpy voice made him smile.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m woke.” He muttered.
“Well, ‘sho don’t sound like it but you grown now. Mama hopes you have a good day. Love ya.”
She hung up her phone before he could respond.
Mama Van was the one woman he respected unconditionally. It was the least he owed her considering all she had done. Chris loved her with all he was.
“Making love between the sheets.” The ring tone startled him. Since it sang the Isley Brothers, he knew it meant one of the three women he was “admiring” at this time. He told himself she would have to wait—whichever one it was. He did not even check to see which one it was. He simply rubbed his fingers over his well-groomed goatee and delighted in knowing he would have sex sometime tonight.
***
Angela stumbled into her bathroom. She slept most of the day. She walked past a mirror and despised what she saw. Her 5’6” and 150 pound voluptuous frame had lost its attractiveness. ‘Life is over’ is what the mirror taunted. After releasing a hollowing scream, she shattered the image with her fists. Her life was in as many pieces.
After a cleansing cry, Angela decided to pity train had run long enough. She showered for the first time in four days. Her need for revenge drove her to make herself presentable. She found the sexiest dress in her wardrobe and draped it over her body. She wanted something that would definitely get his attention. She washed and curled her daintily-cut crop. Once she examined her work, she felt ready for exact her scandalous scheme. Once upon a time she knew his number by heart. Now she needed to thumbed through her phone to make the call.
Available on Amazon
About the Author
SA Brown is a writer in every sense of the word. She started as a contributing author in one of Zane’s Chocolate Flava series. After that, she was hooked.
Born and raised in Mississippi, SA began writing full time in 2010. She started writing one act plays and producing them in the community theaters. She completed the first draft of Still Not Satisfied in 2012 and actively searched for a publisher. After numerous rejection letters, she decided to focus on the stage. She traveled South Mississippi with her socially motivated one act plays using the Theater for Social Change model.
In 2015, SA moved to Atlanta and felt it was time to bring Still Not Satisfied to life. She found Prodigy Gold Books, a press out of Philadelphia and a dream was born. In addition to her novel, she has launched her own production company, SAB Entertainment. Through this channel, SA is writing and producing short films. In May 2018, she produced her first full stage play, Family Lies and plans to tour the Southeast with it in 2019. Always writing, SA just completed the screenplay adaptation of Still Not Satisfied which she will pitch to producers. Currently, she is writing a web series, The Inner Circle. SA hopes to start production in summer 2019.
With hopes of educating while entertaining, SA’s biggest desire is that everyone learns a life lesson every time they walk away from any of her stories.
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Feb. 18th
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