Monday, December 17, 2012

Finding Sanity

Finding Sanity FREE today!

Waking up in solitary confinement is never fun for anyone, and Randall is no exception. He is subjected to relive crucial moments from his past until he finds himself out on his own, free. Deciphering what is real vs. fantasy is half the fun. He finds new love, but as always an old flame complicates things. His reality and fantasy worlds collide putting him in a very compromising position. Can he make it out with his relationships intact?

Also, show proof of download(by providing your order number) and enter for a chance to win a swag bag, or a couple ebooks  HERE

I hope you all enjoy Finding Sanity. Have a nice day. 

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Missing: Catherine Stovall's Muse

Hatter has been running all over my blog. When you find the riddle you will see his prints all over it. We need to get this guy back to Catherine Stovall so she can continue to churn out fabulous reads. If you help, you get to be in one of her published works. Pretty freaking cool, right? There's really no telling where he'll show up, so make sure to be on the lookout. In two days this thing will be over so there's still plenty of time.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Missing Muse

So, word on the street is that a friend's muse has gone missing. Mine better stay right where it is, I don't want it running rampant through other people's blogs and pages. Catherine Stovall is on the lookout for her muse Hatter. I have a feeling he may be lurking around this blog in the very near future. If you want to help her out and have the chance to be a character in an upcoming published work, keep your eyes peeled.

Here is the schedule of pages to look out for. You can still go back and look for clues if you've missed out.

On 09/10/12 visit Images Vinyl Lettering & Graphics

On 09/11/12 visit Lissette E. Manning

On 09/12/12 visit Catrina Taylor

On 09/13/12 visit T.R. Stoddard

On 09/14/12 visit Sinead MacDughlas

On 09/15/12 visit Live, Love, & Create

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Author Interview with Nikolas P Robinson

Today's author interview is with a great friend and author, Nikolas P. Robinson

Welcome to the blog, and all of that. Has writing always been a passion of yours, or did you discover it at a later age?

I actually have copies (if I can track them down) of little illustrated stories that I was writing back in first and second grade, some poems as well. I always enjoyed reading, and I suppose that writing just came along as a natural extension of that first passion. The problem is that I forgot that for a long time, somehow I lost sight of my passion for writing for a number of years. Thankfully I pulled my head out of my ass, and everything is back on track again.

Do you outline or write as you go?  

It depends on the piece…or where I happen to be in the creative process. Sometimes I write as I go all along, sometimes I begin with an outline, and sometimes I write along at a steady clip for a period of time before deciding that an outline might be in order so as to provide myself with a bit of structure and some markers that I can really feel myself working towards.

What inspires you?  

Snippets of song, random little bits of conversation that I’ve happened to share with friends, elements of things that I have read, thought experiments, a snapshot memory of one location or another…there are numerous things that I happen to find inspirational, so many that I wouldn’t be able to stop if I really opted to go into any sort of real detail.

Do you get inspired by a certain element (Water? Fire? Air? Etc.):

Yes, I happen to find bohrium quite inspirational. Seeing as how fire, air, and the like aren’t elements of any sort, I don’t really know how to answer the question with any sincerity. I do happen to find wildfires quite lovely though.

Do you listen to music or multitask while writing? 

I frequently have music or the television on while writing, though silence is admittedly more conducive to the process for me. Strangely enough, as antisocial as I happen to be, I used to find relatively busy coffee shops and diners to be excellent environments for writing. I suppose that it ultimately depends on timing, different moods require different environments in order to really get me into the right state of mind for creativity to arise.

What is your favorite genre, and least favorite? 

I can’t say that I actually have a least favorite genre; since there are works within every conceivable genre that I do very much enjoy (even romance, since I happen to be a fan of The Notebook and The Time Traveler’s Wife).
My favorite genres would unsurprisingly be horror and hard science fiction.

Who are among your favorite authors?  

Well, I happen to love Ayn Rand’s capacity to interlace genuine philosophical thought into well-composed fictional narratives (at least I always found them to be well-composed, though I have heard numerous other people complaining about her writing over the years). Frank Herbert and Alastair Reynolds are my heroes when it comes to science fiction. Both authors are (or “were” in the case of Herbert) brilliant when it involves crafting immersive, expansive new universes into which they projected their creative vision.

What is your favorite piece you’ve written, and what is it about?  

I haven’t written my favorite piece yet, or not completely. It is still rattling around in my head and slowly being put down on paper and the like…but I do have a favorite. Granted, it will depend on how different things turn out, which of those pieces in progress happens to ultimately be my favorite…but since they’re only partially written, I can’t say for sure.

Let’s change things up:

What is a hidden talent of yours? 

I used to be able to sing fairly well…used to be a musician as well. Now and again I consider going back to making music, and I love the idea of doing so…but the practical application isn’t as pleasant as it might seem, since I don’t do well with being in front of people as a focus of their attention.
Also, I can roll my penis up into the loose skin at the base of the shaft so that it appears that I have a massive scrotum with three testicles and no penis. I refer to it as the mollusk, though I can’t really explain why that particular name was chosen. Should I provide a picture…or even just an ink sketch diagram of the process that is involved?

Do you have any animals?  

I have a beagle, an unwanted nuisance of a cat, and two ferrets…as well as children, do they count? I’ll assume that children count as animals, since they do happen to be primates.


TV shows 

There are far too many to list them all, but I suppose that I will provide the Letterman list of my top ten favorites in no particular order (as of this particular moment, in a second or two my list might be slightly different, depending on mood): Farscape, Firefly, The Walking Dead, Game of Thrones, Dexter, Battlestar Galactica, House, Supernatural, Fringe, and Castle.


This is another one with far too large of a list to really go into, but here’s a brief list of my favorites: Dune, Serenity, Frequency, The Salton Sea, Romeo Is Bleeding, The Fifth Element, Night of the Living Dead, The Evil Dead, The Machinist, and Vertigo.


As with the other media-related queries, I will try and answer with a top ten list, without any numerical values assigned: Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, Dune by Frank Herbert, The Steel Remains by Richard K. Morgan, Hater by David Moody, A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin, Beggars In Spain by Nancy Kress, Revelation Space by Alastair Reynolds, World War Z by Max Brooks, Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson, and Starfish by Peter Watts.


I don’t believe that I have a favorite animal. If asked whether I happen to be a dog or a cat person, I am definitely a dog person...unless “dog” happens to include one of those abominations that are more like hamsters or gerbils than anything of the canine species.


I would have to say that gray or black are my favorites, but they aren’t colors so much as shades…where colors are concerned, I happen to prefer deep, rich varieties of blue, black, and red.

And last but not least, tell us all about your upcoming novel.  

I actually have two novels in progress that are in contention for the title of “upcoming” since they’re plodding along at approximately the same pace, in addition to another one or two that are coming along a bit more slowly. I’d love to tell you about them, but I wouldn’t know which one(s) to focus on…so, it’ll be as much a surprise for you as it is for me, I suppose. Two are horror, one is science fiction, and the other is something akin to the urban fantasy genre in a sense.

Twitter:        !/MeltdownMessiah

The following is a brief excerpt from my novel The Dead (working title), which I initially started writing a few years ago, only to put it on hiatus until quite recently:

I was sluggish that morning, it was too damned hot in my trailer, and the stifling temperatures of late spring always caused me to be rather lethargic. The air conditioner had stopped working the fall before, and I hadn’t bothered to purchase a new one since then. Money had been pretty tight for a while now, by my estimations at least, too many of my customers had gotten arrested or had found better deals elsewhere over the past couple of months. Besides, heroin was a dying trade. I understood that fact, hell, there was absolutely no way that anyone could have gotten me to inject that filthy shit into my own body. I had seen the scum that got strung out on junk for far too many years to ever actually have any desire to emulate them. But the money was good, it beat the hell out of actually showing up to work at some dead end job for a living. And if these fucking wastes of flesh weren’t getting their fixes from me, the money would just end up padding someone else’s pocket, probably some strung out piece of shit themselves. So I found it to be a far better thing that I be raking it in than the alternative.
                The day was bright, despite the clouds coming in and I slapped at the blinds for a couple of minutes before they finally fell closed. I’d had too much to drink the night before, the throbbing behind my eyes served as a testament to that. I could barely remember if I’d been drinking alone, or if there’d been company along for the bender, but I believed that I’d been flying solo. There wasn’t a woman or another man, an occasional option, in my bed with me, so it stood to reason that I could assume that I hadn’t gotten laid. No great tragedy there, I’d probably had enough of the mindless fuck puppets at the bars around here. And that left only my customers as the remaining option, and I’d sooner take a straight razor to my cock than shove it into one of those degenerates. I wouldn’t be surprised if half of those sallow, scrawny shits were infected with A.I.D.S or something equally as bad. Nothing could make me that desperate for flesh.
                I was going to piss myself if I didn’t get up though, so I stood up on unsteady legs and made my laborious way to the bathroom down the hall. Not that it would have been the first time that I’d been intoxicated enough to just let loose in my sleep. However, on these nights I’d had so much to drink that my sweat and urine were functionally impossible to differentiate from one another due to the high alcohol content of both, so I only presume that I’d pissed my sheets like some snotty little brat. At least I know for certain that my bowels had never released while I was in slumber, so I hadn’t reached that degree of alcoholic decline. However, anything was possible with time, and I was well on my way down the road that would eventually and inevitably lead to regularly soiled linens on par with those found in convalescent or nursing homes. The worst part about all of this was that I really couldn’t care less.
                The yellow light in the bathroom made me appear jaundiced in the mirror, but I knew that it wasn’t all the light, that my pallor couldn’t have been a whole lot better. I lay my .45 on the counter and removed my penis from the open flap of my boxers and pissed standing up into the sink. It wasn’t because there was a problem with my plumbing; it was simply more convenient to relieve myself in this way with an erection, less painful bending of the instrument in question.
                After I was finished I ran some water into the basin in order to clean it out. There was a slight pinkish red tint to my urine, so I had definitely had far too much to drink. Perhaps I should have checked myself into some manner of AA class or another, sought treatment for what was quite obviously a serious problem, but to me more an error in judgment, a lifestyle choice. Hemmingway had been no better, but he’d also been a successful author, who ultimately self-terminated after putting himself into seemingly endless situations that should have probably led to his death anyhow. I was nobody, a nonentity, so I suppose that I didn’t have the leeway that certain others of more redeeming social value might have regarding their behaviour. Fucking artists, like somehow being artistically inclined could excuse being a drunk or a madman. Shit like that sort of arbitrary double standard drove me nuts my whole life and it still does.
                I was well educated though, I’m not just some shit from a trailer park, white trash to the core, not that it really matters in the real world. I had graduated two years before with a degree in economics from UCLA, but contrary to popular belief, college doesn’t change your life…it does absolutely shit for a person like myself. Sure, I could have taken some shitty job at some accounting firm or some business or another, but I had no motivation to waste my life in such a way. What fun would there be in living like that? Besides, my trailer and the lot have been paid off for years, my car is paid in full, and I found that I could make a better living with a less savory use of my understanding of economics. Sure, there are risks in the life that I’d chosen, but the benefits are there as well. I can sleep in about as late as I might want, I can afford to go out drinking every night without having to worry about losing my job for showing up half tanked. I’ve never been arrested, hell, so far as I knew, I’d never even crossed by the police radar. According to my cost-benefit analysis, I had made precisely the right choices as far as my chosen occupation was concerned.
                There were messages waiting for me on the machine when I made it out to the living room, a bright flashing red dot informing me that the outside world does indeed exist regardless of how much better for me life would be if it did not. Fuck them I figured, if it was important, they could wait until I felt like returning their calls. I hate those god damned machines, always flashing, people always calling me. It was like a fucking nightmare, the constant irritant that the phone could be, connecting me with the trash outside who always wanted something from me, the dealers wanting money, the junkies wanting their fixes. Why did I have my number published in the first place? What the fuck could I have been thinking? I should have just picked up a pager like every other drug dealer out there, that way these assholes wouldn’t be able to intrude on the comfort of my home when I didn’t want them to.
                It was only eleven in the morning…I hadn’t slept in nearly so long as I had figured originally, but who ever knows what time it actually is when they wake up with a hangover and a bladder full of piss? It’s a good thing that I’d woken up though; I needed to avoid pissing myself at all costs if it could be avoided. After all, I still retained some small sense of decency, dignity, and self respect; perhaps not much, but there was some remnant of those things left inside of me.
                I felt like a fucking cripple, stumbling around like some kind of defective. I wandered down the hall into the kitchen and moved shit around almost blindly in the cupboard for an indeterminate amount of time before I finally found the bottle that I was looking for, darvocet, the perfect quick cure for the constant thrumming in my skull. How I could continue living like this is as mysterious and alien of a concept for me as it would be to nearly anyone else, but it was habitual now, ingrained into the fabric of my personality. I was an alcoholic, an addict, the exact same breed of scum that my father had been, and likely his father before him.
                I rooted around in the fridge for a short while, finally determining that I should go ahead and wash the pill down with milk, because it was close enough for food, and about as close to solid material that I could ingest and keep down for any small period of time. I twisted off the plastic cap and tipped the gallon back into my mouth. I spit a mouthful of the rancid shit out into the sink; the fucking milk was spoiled. Damn eyes inability to focus, I should have noticed by sight, the shit was nearly transparent in the clear plastic bottle, the curdled chunks floating at the top. My nose was also far too stuffed up to possibly allow me to smell the fetid odor of the disgusting crap that I’d just tried to force down my gullet. What a fucking morning.
                Tossing the gallon jug into the garbage, I walked over to the liquor cabinet and quickly yanked out a bottle of tequila, something guaranteed to wash the rotten taste out of my suffering mouth. The bitter flavour washed down my throat, a catalyst necessary to wake me up properly. It probably wasn’t the wisest decision to be mixing hard liquor with my pain medication on an empty stomach, but this type of behaviour hadn’t killed me yet, so I figured that it wasn’t such a big deal as doctors always made it out to be. And what would it really matter if something did happen? Worst case scenario being that I would kick the bucket, and what a fucking tragedy that would be. I had no family left, never really had any friends. The only people who would miss me would be a handful of needle freaks, and they’d miss me the same way that a child misses Santa Claus when they finally reach the age of disillusionment.
                My mother died when I was 13, unlucky year indeed. My father quickly thereafter lost himself in his work and booze, and I couldn’t really blame him. My mother had been a wonderful woman, holding our damaged little family together. And, all Freudian psychology aside, I wasn’t willing to settle for anyone less than her for myself. Good luck there, my father hadn’t degenerated to my degree of decadence and disrepair until they’d been married for a couple of years. Finding a woman patient and saintly enough to put up with my manner of bullshit from the beginning may as well be impossible for how probable it would be.

Monday, August 13, 2012

The Kid's Interview


Since I don't have a kid, I will be interviewing Pepe.

Pepe, age 28 double-yellow-headed amazon

Q.Will you do an author interview with me, Pepe?

Pepe: Come here. Hello. Hi.

Q.  Can you name all your Mom’s books?

Pepe:Come here baby

Q.  Which is your favorite, and why?

Pepe: Duhhhh

Q.  When does your Mom write?  Where in the house?  Describe her writing area.

Pepe: Cracker cracker

Q.  What are you doing when Mom is writing?

Pepe: Hi Pepe

Q.  If Mom got rich and famous, what would you want her to do with the money?

Pepe: It’s alright. Go away

Q.  Do you read your Mom’s books?

Pepe: Give me a kiss

Q.  Do you think you do better in school because Mom is a writer?


Q.  Do your friends know what your Mom writes?  Do you tell them?

Pepe:*laughs* Hi Pep, come here,

Q.  Do you want to be a writer when you grow up?  If not, what do you want to be.                 

Pepe:*bobs his head*

Q.  If you could dedicate a book to your Mom, what would you say?

Pepe:Come here.  Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom It’s alriiiiight. Whore. 

Friday, August 3, 2012

Don't Ask, Don't Tell Available on Kindle

To all of you who have been anticipating the release of Don't Ask, Don't Tell--it is finally here. I am very excited to have it out for people to finally read. I feel this book is very special. Not because I wrote it, okay, maybe a little bit because I wrote it. But that's not the point.

We are in a gay-hating time, it seems. Especially as of late. For a while there it looked like things were simmering down and turning in the right direction. But then, Chik Fil A and Boy Scouts reaffirm their anti-gay policies. In my opinion, the place I get food shouldn't have a say in anything but the food. Since when do you need to discriminate against someone to run a business that has absolutely nothing to do with gay anything. Are there gay chicken nuggets running around? I don't think so. And even if there were, I would eat them just as readily as I would the straight chicken nuggets. People are people.

While I wrote Don't Ask, Don't Tell in fiction, it seems if things don't change, it isn't that far from reality. I hope it never comes to that.

Anyway, ranting tangent over now or I'll never stop.

You can get your copy of Don't Ask, Don't Tell here.

While you are there feel free to like, tag, and share Don't Ask, Don't Tell. I am glad to finally share it with the world. 

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Change Can Be a Good Thing

It is funny how much can change in just a few hours.

After working the day job I was grocery shopping and got an email on my phone. As per usual, I check it right away. What it said on the top was Publishing Contract. That didn't look ominous, right? Wrong. I open the email and it is a breakup letter from my publisher. That I am not a right fit for the company. It caught me off guard to say the least. Also, I was devastated and trying to hide my hurt from the people around me. Well, that didn't go well. So I go where I always go to vent on facebook. Just expecting to whine and moan to get it out of my system. Well, I got messaged by a publisher, and a few emails later I had a contract for Don't Ask, Don't Tell. The following morning I signed a contract for both Don't Ask, Don't Tell AND Sunny With a Chance of Homicide. The middle of the day and then end of the day were polar opposites. The lowest of lows, and the highest of highs. I cannot wait to get things off to a great start.

Here is my new cover for Don't Ask, Don't Tell:

Synopsis(in case anyone has missed it): Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is an anti-gay policy sweeping the Bible Belt portion of the nation. Freshman journalism student Rachael Ainsley goes undercover as a high school senior named Cassie Rae for a tell-all exposé, hoping to drastically alter the Gay Rights Movement. She instantly befriends the gayest boy in school. Imagine his surprise when he finds out who she really is. Can she stick to her deadline, or will she be discovered before she has a chance to change the lives of the students attending Mooreville High?

You can add it on goodreads HERE

The release date is slated for early September, so keep your eyes out. 

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Marissa Carmel Guest Post and Giveaway

Hello everyone, I would like to welcome Marissa Carmel, author of iFeel and fellow Great Minds Think Aloud author to my blog. 

You plan, God laughs.  This is the story of my life.

Marissa Carmel

There are ideals and expectations I assume everyone has; whom you will marry, what your career will be like, where you will raise your kids. And yes, I had all those ideologies in my head, except mine were more like, have a career, don't get married and absolutely no kids.  Boy was I wrong. Today I am married with two kids, and living in a state I only passed through on occasion. And my career? Well let’s just say, I have more than one, and I never saw that coming.  Who needs more than one career? Apparently me. To make a long story short, I started my first career as a logistician, yawn, I won’t bore you with the details. The second career came shortly after.

I've always loved to write. Always. My imagination constantly runs away with itself, and I am without doubt following it. My best subject was creative writing. So when I would write, it was primarily for me (or a good grade). As time went on though, I found myself imagining more and more and wanting to create, but my life was so busy, and what would it get me anyway? Until one day my mother- in- law dropped a bomb that would change my life. She was talking to one of my husband’s cousins who was complaining about getting her college degree (she was already married with 4 kids. Yikes. I’d be complaining too.) And my MIL, the wise woman that she is simply said, honey, time is going to go by anyway, so you might as well do it. Well, it felt like the sky fell on me. The advice wasn’t even directed at me, but it resonated. I started writing that night. And never stopped.

My husband once asked where my creativity comes from, and in return I asked him if he ever heard voices in his head.  His reply, I needed to see a shrink. I told him a keyboard and a curser is the best therapy. I have always loved the supernatural, thanks in part to my mom; Charmed was one of our favorite shows to watch together and still is.  So when I started writing, it only felt natural that it took on a paranormal feel. But I didn't want to write about vampires or werewolves or really anything that had been done. I'm like that; I always tend to steer towards the opposite of popular and then proceed to make fun of it. So I started researching, and brainstorming, and concocting my mix of love, humor and emotion. Liv was already an entity in my head, festering. I'd often imagine a dark haired girl with amethyst eyes, suffering and alone. When I finally established who she really was, and what kind of supernatural elements she would possess, (an Empath-someone who can feel the emotions of others- with active abilities) I asked myself, what would it be like for someone like that to carry the world's emotions? Torrential I thought. What would it be like for her to fall in love? Even worse than torrential.  The story evolved rather quickly after that, but I didn't rush it.  It took me a little over a year to write, over two years to edit. I learned a lot about my writing style during that time, developed my voice and really tried to give it a life-like feel.

So here I am almost four years later, a husband, 2 kids, and a home in what feels like a foreign country; a daytime career and a nighttime career, all jumbling together, fighting for a piece of my time. Go hard or go home, my husband and I always joke, if we have a story, it needs a theme and that is it.  I wouldn't change it though, not for anything. Life is nothing, if not a venture - (I have no idea who said that).

Marissa Carmel has been writing since a young age and although it has always been for personal enjoyment, she finally decided to breakout and share her imagination with the world. She hopes that her universe is as fun and intriguing to her readers as it is to her. Marissa Carmel is originally from NJ but moved to Maryland several years ago, she enjoys reading, writing, and catching up on her DVR library. She is currently working on the sequel to iFeel, Gravitational Pull, which she hopes to release sometime in 2012.

Book Blurb-
Lust. Anger. Hate. Desire. Love. Happiness. Joy. iFeel. 

Liv Christianni is isolated, alone, tortured and withdrawn, saddled with the torrential downpour of the world’s emotions. Accepting of her providence Liv has lost all hope, until one day fate steps in and spins the course of her life like a spiraling top. Hunted by a Spirit Stalker, Liv is forced to gain control of herself and her surroundings, threatened by the touch of her immortal love; she must find a way to survive both physically and emotionally as her reality is shaken up like dice on a Craps table. Can she find the courage to accept her true self? Can she love unconditionally cognizant of the condemning consequences? Can she rise from the ashes to become the person she was always meant to be? 

Funny, witty, real, and poignant, iFeel rips into your soul, and sets your emotions on fire.

If you are a fan of Charmed or Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries or The Secret Circle this series is for you!

I direct my anger towards the mocking bottles of crazy pills settled in the cabinet. I attack them; clearing all the glass shelves in one angered fit. Tiny orange bottles fly all around my white tiled bathroom, exploding an array of colored pills against the walls and floor. It feels like I am bombing my past; liberating my future and releasing myself from whatever binds me. I want to be free, and if that means destroying my whole apartment in the process to get there, I am willing to do that.
I can feel the rage course through my veins; my head throbs and my throat burns as I thrash at my tiny bathroom. All I can hear are the voices of people who mean the most to me, those who encourage me, those who support me. To my surprise, the loudest voice is the one who is farthest away. Justice’s words echo against the tiled surface, telling me to let go, to accept my fate, to be magical and not mental. It makes me miss him all the more, but what he said finally makes sense.
My breaths pulse quickly in my lungs, as if the air is thinning. I have worked myself up into a crazed frenzy to expel my true self. My enraged fit has resulted in a bathroom bloodbath, me versus myself.
And I won.

I Feel great, on fire, changed, content about this book. This book is indeed a different kind of writing. I enjoyed the story very much. Extreme beings combust with contact. One that hides from all public life simply to keep from feeling every emotion from everyone around her. Destined to spend her life in lock up inside her own apartment. The other one an angel sent to protect all that is good and to keep evil from harming this "feeler". Seraphs and empaths ignite and paint the town in flames in this story. Characters that will open your heart can make you laugh, show anger in large amounts and also open your eyes on things we take for granted. Good read for sure. Loved the flow and design of details.
Great for all YA, Angels & Demons, and Fantasy fans alike. Will recommend to all. KUDOS AUTHOR Marissa Carmel. Happy Reading 

This author finds a way to make this story relatable to the reader, suspending your disbelief and extracting your empathy for what the characters endure.
An absolute page turner. The character of Liv has been through so much in her short years. Her friends and family attribute her strange and overtly keen behavior as having a mental imbalance. Depressed and loaded on a colossal cocktail of mood stabilizers, her friends stage an intervention and drag her to one of the many clubs at the shore. Lost in a sea of bodies, music pounding, she dances with fate and comes face to face with her destiny. As if awaking from a hazy dream, Liv finds herself without her rose color classes. Now confronted with a sudden life and death situation, she must find a way to tap into her strength and new found power.

When this book was finished you can't help but to feel enveloped in the tail so much you don't want it to end. I hope this author produces a sequel. This literary journey is just simply too good to be finished! -

This book is available at Createspace and on As a reviewer I highly recommend it because it is unique and pleasurably entertaining to read. As a reader it tugs at the heart as the author explores the human heart and soul from the highs to the lows of forever love and has charming mysterious Justice protecting her against all evil, it has endearing qualities of bonding and breaking down the barriers of truth and the unknown discovering a powerful bond between a man and a woman that comes once in a lifetime. -
Contact Info-
Twitter- @MarissaCarmel
Facebook- Marissa Carmel
Purchase Links-

To enter to win one of two copies of iFeel comment on this post, I will be randomly selecting two winners. 

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Sunny With a Chance of Homicide still FREE

Today is the last day to get Sunny With a Chance of Homicide for FREE.

Do you want to read a book that has been called more graphic than scenes from both Jeff Lindsay and Val McDermid books? Well, for the rest of today you can grab that book for FREE.

Can you make it past the beginning? 

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Sunny With a Chance of Homicide FREE on Amazon

Truly a page-turning, edge-of-your-seat read. EffinNikktastic  |  1 reviewer made a similar statement
These are just a few excerpts from three of my nine reviews on Amazon. Make sure to grab your free copy today.Randall's crazy world awaits you.

Synopsis:Waking up in solitary confinement is never fun for anyone, and Randall is no exception. He is subjected to relive crucial moments from his past until he finds himself out on his own, free. He finds new love, but as always an old flame complicates things. His reality and fantasy worlds collide putting him in a very compromising position. Can he make it out with his relationships intact?

Fun Fact: Sunny With a Chance of Homicide was nicknamed "torture novel" until I was nearly finished with it. With that in mind there is a lot of torture, violence, and profanity. 

Click HERE to get you copy.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Cover Reveal: Memories (Closure Series Omnibus Edition)- Lissette E. Manning

Hi Everyone.

I just wanted to share with you all the cover reveal for Memories (Closure Series Omnibus Edition)

It's release date is slated for July 25, 2012.

Below you'll find the book blurb and a short excerpt from Closure.

Genre: Drama, Romance, Short Stories

Book Blurb

He wanted to remember. She would rather forget.
Memories is a compilation for the Closure series which includes the first two books, Closure and Broken.

Follow Ben and Ellie Morgan as they recall pieces of their past and deal with the pain and heartache that ensues because of the decisions they've taken, decisions that will change their lives forever. 

A heart-felt and bittersweet journey, it's one anyone can relate to.


I’m leaving, Ben.
Ellie’s words still rang with crystal clarity within my head. For the life of me, I could not brush them off. The devastation my wife had wrought upon me still resonates with each passing day.
I tried to make sense of what she’d said to me, but my mind refused to acknowledge every word that had spilled from her lips. We’d spent so much time together, building a life that had spoken volumes. Everything had seemed so perfect. And yet it was not. With those three words, she had shattered the very world I’d built around her.
Taking a deep breath, I walked throughout the house she and I had shared. Everywhere I looked, I saw something that reminded me of her. The Prince of Tides, a book she had always meant to read, lay forgotten upon the coffee table. A misplaced pen lay haphazardly on the mantle. A pair of worn slippers were tucked discreetly underneath the edge of her desk. Seeing these things brought forth a wave of heartache so deep that it suffocated me.
Leaning across the doorjamb as I surveyed the contents of my living room, I brought to mind the day she had told me she was leaving. The memory of it was still so vivid it left a sour taste within my mouth.

About the Author:

Lissette E. Manning is an author from Connecticut. She has been writing since she was six-years-old and spends most of her time trying to place her thoughts into order and giving life to the stories that are always brewing inside her head.

She enjoys reading books, listening to music, playing the occasional video game, watching movies, and spending time with friends and family. She's also a bit of a computer geek.

Her writing genres of choice are Science-Fiction/Fantasy, Romance, Paranormal, Short Stories, as well as Poetry. She's currently working on several projects due out sometime this year such as The Secret Keeper, Tales of Velosia: The Prophecy, The Corsicanth Princess, and many more.

Where you can find Lissette E. Manning:

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Thieves Only Gain Momentary Success

If someone builds a sandcastle and asks you to watch it, and walks off for a second it isn't your sandcastle. It is theirs. They took the time, care, and effort to build it. You are just someone they trust to watch it for a bit. Maybe you can add on a few shells to pretty it up, but you wouldn't build a fence around it and keep the original builders out. Okay, so this post isn't actually about sandcastles. But the premise is similar.

The facebook group Great Minds Think Aloud was taken over by someone promoted to admin status. You presented yourself as an ASSET to a respected page, and then tore it down. If you think that will stand in the Indie Author community you are sadly mistaken. Real authors work hard, too hard to gain a following. That isn't taking actual writing in to consideration. So how dare you steal someone's hard work. If you think we are going to buy "My cat changed administration status" bullshit, you are wrong. How daft do you think we are? Just so you know, writers are pretty intelligent people by nature.

Also, we stick together. Author Karma is the basis for a lot of these groups. You are probably the same slime that tears down others to feel better about yourself. Here's an idea. WORK HARD AND MAKE YOUR OWN SUCCESS. Oh, right. It is easier to lie and steal and cheat. You have just set an entire community against you. Good luck living this one down. 

Giving it back is the right thing to do, but it doesn't absolve you of your blame. That's like stealing someone's child and then giving it back and expecting no repercussions...

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Jason's Writing Corner: The First Edition Writing Contest

Jason's Writing Corner: The First Edition Writing Contest:

The rules can be found on "The First Edition Writing Contest" tab at the top of this page.

Basically, all you need in order to enter is write an original story [up to 7,500 words in length], centered around [and including] the phrase: "Listen closely to the unspoken words."

The contest will run from July 1 - 15, and the winner will be determind by yours truly. The winner will be announced on or before August 1, 2012.

The winner will have his or her choice of one of the following three FIRST EDITION, Hardcover novels:
   - "Tom Sawyer Abroad" by Mark Twain
   - "The American Claimant" by Mark Twain
   - "Frenchman's Creek" by Daphne du Maurier

Please refer to the Rules for all other information.

Happy writing, and good luck to all who enter!