Book Promo! The Clockwork Crown, Clockwork Dagger Duology by Beth Cato

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Rich in atmosphere, imagination, and fun, the action-packed, magic-filled sequel to The Clockwork Dagger is an enchanting steampunk fantasy, evocative of the works of Trudi Canavan and Gail Carriger.

Narrowly surviving assassination and capture, Octavia Leander, a powerful magical healer, is on the run with handsome Alonzo Garrett, the Clockwork Dagger who forfeited his career with the Queen’s secret society of spies and killers—and possibly his life—to save her. Now, they are on a dangerous quest to find safety and answers: Why is Octavia so powerful? Why does she seem to be undergoing a transformation unlike any witnessed for hundreds of years?

The truth may rest with the source of her mysterious healing power—the Lady’s Tree. But the tree lies somewhere in a rough, inhospitable territory known as the Waste. Eons ago, this land was made barren and uninhabitable by an evil spell, until a few hardy souls dared to return over the last century. For years, the Waste has waged a bloody battle against the royal court to win its independence—and they need Octavia’s powers to succeed.

Joined by unlikely allies, including a menagerie of gremlin companions, she must evade killers and Clockwork Daggers on a dangerous journey through a world on the brink of deadly civil war.

As she rode through the snowy wilderness of far southern Caskentia, Octavia Leander's spirits were buoyed by three thoughts: that although she fled from assassination and capture, she was undoubtedly in one of the most beautiful places she had ever seen; that thus far they had survived a full week without any sign of pursuit by horse or buzzer; and that her companion in the hard journey was Alonzo Garret, a man who had forfeited his career as a Clockwork Dagger--and possibly his life--in order to keep her alive.

Considering the dire circumstances, he made for delightful company.

Alonzo rode ahead on a chestnut bay stallion, their gray pack horse following close behind. This far from civilization, the world was utterly quiet but for the jingling of tack, the horses' breathing and the steady rhythm of their hooves, and the radiant life songs of the horses, Alonzo, and any wildlife within close range. In particular, she took comfort in the ever-present marching band brasses of Alonzo's life essence; she would recognize his particular notes in any crowd. 

Since childhood, she had known people's and animals' health woes by their music, but only in a generic sense. She didn't hear specifics unless they had an open wound or she placed the patient in a circle to ask for the Lady's direct intervention. 

The Lady's Tree moored its roots to the very spirit of the earth. Through the Tree, Octavia could heal with prowess beyond any other known medician. Lately, however, the Lady's magic had changed. Octavia had changed. Her power through the Lady had increased, and Octavia wasn't sure if it was truly for the better. 

As if he sensed her attention, Alonzo glanced back. A Waster's fur-fringed hood framed his face and contrasted with the warm nutmeg tone of his skin. A coarse black beard lined his jaw. His song was ragged in weariness, his heart steady in its anxiety. His mechanical leg--though masterfully designed--could not help but grind the joint against his flesh below his knee. She had treated him with pampria and heskool root over the past few days to ward against infection. His leg pained him again now, but even so, his smile to her was tender. Heat bloomed in her own chest, along with a sense of terrible sadness.

She had told Alonzo that she wanted to search the famed libraries of the southern nations to find out where the Lady's Tree may be found. Alonzo knew that Octavia sought a greater understanding of her own magic through the Lady, but he didn't know of all the ways that her power was changing. Or how it terrified her.

How had Octavia's blood, combined with a true branch from the Lady's Tree, caused a massive tree to grow temporarily? That tree had acted in her defense and torn apart the men of the Waste who had tried to hold her captive. The branch that had done that was now tied to her saddlebag. It was green as if freshly cut, and hummed with life like any person or animal.

Then there had been the moment after she had pulled Alonzo from the edge of death. She had kissed him, and with the touch of her lips she had gone beyond her knowledge of his body's song. It was as if she had become immersed in his very soul, that she could pry apart his body's instruments and manipulate his health without any restrictions from the Lady's herbs.

That had frightened her even more than the persistent threats of both Caskentia and the Waste.

A flock of birds fluttered overhead, anxiety driving them as if they were pursued. Octavia craned around. The sky was a blanket of gray, the wind sharpened by early winter.

"What’s the matter?" called Alonzo.

"Something alarmed the birds."

"To the trees, quickly."

Their horses pounded down the hill, the action reverberating through her constantly-aching leg muscles. Thin snow sloshed underfoot. The forest welcomed them with a slap of branches and a shower of pine needles and ice. Roads had been scarce, signs of humanity scarcer. A good thing, in truth, though the long days of slow progress had permanently imprinted the saddle's curve into her backside.

"We should be nearing the Caskentian border. 'Tis a likely place for patrols to be wary for us." Alonzo reined up. 

Octavia listened past the songs of wildlife around her. "I hear a buzzer." That's what I get for counting my blessings. I jinxed us.

"Yes. He is likely flying amongst the low clouds. Our tracks are bold on the snow." Alonzo pressed his horse onward, staying in the trees. She followed, brush scraping her legs. Trees crowded close.

Beth Cato hails from Hanford, California, but currently writes and bakes cookies in a lair west of Phoenix, Arizona. She shares the household with a hockey-loving husband, a numbers-obsessed son, and a cat the size of a canned ham.

She’s the author of THE CLOCKWORK DAGGER steampunk fantasy series from Harper Voyager. The newest book, THE CLOCKWORK CROWN, comes out on June 9th, 2015.

Follow her at www.BethCato.com and on Twitter at @BethCato.

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Book Promo: Excerpt & Giveaway! The Infinite Expanse, The Journals of Krymzyn #2 by B.C. Powell

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Evil lurks in the desolate Barrens of Krymzyn. For millions of Eras, predators with insatiable cravings have prowled the wasteland. When a traitor of the Delta enters their realm, the solitary beasts may finally have a leader to unite them.

As a new order emerges in the Barrens, Chase and Sash begin their lives together. While Chase fights to prove he belongs in Krymzyn, the power inside Sash flourishes in ways no one could have imagined. But a vengeance from the wasteland is soon unleashed upon them.

After Chase is trapped deep in the Barrens, his only escape is into the Infinite Expanse. Unaware of the deathly perils that take shape there, he may be lost forever. For Sash to return him from the endless wilderness, she’ll have to harness a mystical energy not seen since the beginning of time.

Two men and a woman stand up from the group sitting on the nearby hill. With spears in their hands, they walk towards the man. As they pass by the tree, one of the brutes kicks the empty steel transport at the base of the trunk. The man calmly bends down to the ground and slips his fingers around the shaft of his spear. As he stands again, he returns his eyes to the Murkovin, his weapon firmly in his grip. The three creatures stop when they reach him.

“We’re leaving,” one gruffly says to the man.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the man asks.

“The Barrens,” the creature answers. “You said we’d have sap, but you’ve given it all to the others.”

“They have an important task ahead of them,” the man replies. “You’ll consume all you want when Darkness falls.”

“You don’t know the ways of the Barrens,” the creature snarls. “You’re of the Delta.”

“I’m the way of the Barrens now!” the man shouts.

The creature’s muscles tense. When the man sees the Murkovin’s eyes drop to the veins bulging from his own neck, he knows the beast thirsts for his blood. Before the creature has a chance to move, the man erupts with wrath. His spear tip slices the air until the point slams into the skull of the beast. A burst of white light envelops the steel as the man hammers the brute’s head into the ground.

The second creature thrusts his spear at the man. As he ducks under the point, the man rips his weapon out of the skull of the dead Murkovin at his feet, spiking it straight into the chest of the attacking creature. The sharpened steel impales the Murkovin’s heart while blood spouts from the wound. Gurgling from blood filling his lungs, the creature collapses to the dirt.

With a sweep of his leg under the third beast’s feet, the man knocks her to the ground. Her spear flailing in her hand, she tries to jump to her feet. The man smashes his foot into the creature’s face, crushing her nose. He plunges the point of his spear at her head but freezes just as the tip pierces her skin.

“Go to the wasteland,” he growls. “Tell all who dwell there what you’ve seen. Tell them there’s a new power in the Barrens.”

The man lifts his foot away from her blood-soaked face. He slowly turns to the other creatures still sitting on the side of the hill. With dread in their crimson eyes, the Murkovin stare at him.

“Does anyone else dare to defy me?” the man yells.

The creatures lower their eyes to the dirt at their feet. Darkness will fall soon, they know. The man will provide sap for them.

BC Powell is a fantasy author from Los Angeles, CA. His debut science fiction fantasy novel "Krymzyn" was published in October, 2014. "TheInfinite Expanse", the highly anticipated second book in "The Journals of Krymzyn" series, is scheduled for release on March 31, 2015.

Powell has a diverse background, having held several creative positions in the entertainment industry, including executive roles at ABC-TV and Technicolor. In recent years, he's authored several non-fiction works, primarily educational books and training programs for trading the financial markets. He dual majored in journalism and philosophy at Trinity University in San Antonio, Texas.

Writing fiction has been his lifelong passion and goal. “The Journals of Krymzyn” represents, in his words, “finally finding the story I want to tell with characters that are able to bring that story to life.” He's an avid reader and lists Ernest Hemingway, Frank L. Herbert, Stephen King, Jane Austen, and Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. as his favorite authors.

Brad, as he prefers to go by in personal communication, lives with his longtime girlfriend, three sons from a previous marriage, and their rescue dog and cat. He enjoys hiking, ocean kayaking, spending time at Southern California beaches, movies, and reading.

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Release Day Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! Stolen Art by Ruth Silver

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Sixteen-year-old Madeline has been living on the streets, biding her time until she's eighteen. With little to no money, she takes on a heist in hopes of making ends meet. What could possibly go wrong? Everything. Getting caught is just the beginning of Madeline's adventure as she meets Weston and discovers the secret of where she came from. Fans of Orphan Black, The X-Files, and Fringe will fall head over heels for STOLEN ART. Recommended: 15+

I rush back up the dark stairwell, shoving the key into the doorknob. It takes a minute for the lock to click and I push myself inside the apartment, securing every lock and deadbolt. I can’t stay here in Hutchinson, Kansas any longer. Pulling my phone from my purse, I text Weston. Tatiana is here. It’s not safe for me. I grab the few belongings that have any value to me, sentimental or otherwise, and shove it into my shoulder bag, including the stolen silver necklace. It has value and if I’m forced on the run, I’ll need money to survive. I know. What did Weston mean he knew Tatiana is at the bar? Had he seen her? Is he there? What do you mean, you know? I type into the phone. If he saw her, why didn’t he warn me? I can’t go down out the front door and it’s only a matter of time until she finds me just a few feet away. I grow restless waiting for an answer. The phone buzzes and displays an incoming call from Weston. "Wes, tell me you’re here." The only thing to do is hop in his car and drive into the night, far from Kansas. A female’s voice bubbles with laughter. "Oh he’s coming darling, but you should know he won’t get here in time. Amazing how easy it is to clone a phone number and steal his service. The advancements Stem Tech has made is encouraging."

        

Ruth Silver is the best-selling author of the Aberrant trilogy. With a passion for writing and a love of story-telling, Ruth is actively writing multiple series under her name as well as the pen name Ravyn Rayne. Her interests include traveling, reading, and photography. Her favorite vacation destination is Australia. Ruth currently resides in Plainfield, Illinois.

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Book Promo: Excerpt & Giveaway! The Brass Giant, Chroniker City #1 by Brooke Johnson

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Sometimes, even the most unlikely person can change the world

Seventeen-year-old Petra Wade, self-taught clockwork engineer, wants nothing more than to become a certified member of the Guild, an impossible dream for a lowly shop girl. Still, she refuses to give up, tinkering with any machine she can get her hands on, in between working and babysitting her foster siblings. 

When Emmerich Goss—handsome, privileged, and newly recruited into the Guild—needs help designing a new clockwork system for a top-secret automaton, it seems Petra has finally found the opportunity she’s been waiting for. But if her involvement on the project is discovered, Emmerich will be marked for treason, and a far more dire fate would await Petra.

Working together in secret, they build the clockwork giant, but as the deadline for its completion nears, Petra discovers a sinister conspiracy from within the Guild council … and their automaton is just the beginning.

Petra Wade stood at the foot of the University steps, her hands in the pockets of her borrowed trousers. Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked upon the gleaming monument of scientific study, the anticipation of this moment finally a reality. She nervously twisted the stem of her pocket watch, feeling the familiar click of the ratchet against the winding gear. 

Until now, her only experience with clockwork mechanics and design was her weekly studies with Mr. Stricket after her shift at the pawn shop, repairing pocket watches and grandfather clocks, or making clockwork contraptions out of spare parts, but she knew she had talent enough to compete with the best engineers the school had to offer. Yet the Guild would never allow it. The world of tickers was the world of men. 

So, slipping her hands from her pockets, she tucked the loose strands of her hair back into her borrowed cap and gave herself the once-over, making sure that her brother’s clothes covered any femininity that might betray her to anyone inside. Satisfied that she looked the part, she marched up the University steps, determined not to let something as trivial as her sex stop her from pursuing the career she deserved. 

Students milled about the door, discussing pitch circles and circumferential velocities. Petra’s skin quivered as she passed over the threshold. The rich scent of paraffin and gasoline replaced the salty air outside. The floor pulsed with the jarring oscillations of the subcity below, the steady hum of perfectly fitted gears vibrating within her bones. Her fingers twitched toward the screwdriver in her pocket. From the foyer, she could see the cluttered mess of schematics that papered the walls of the main workshop. Columns of unused gears stood at attention in the far corner, waiting for an engineer to affix them to a gear-train. Levers rocked and cranks spun, driving gears and sliders. Steam whistled through pipes. Blowlamps hissed and sputtered over metal joints. The workshop sang an engineer’s lullaby. 

Petra grinned. She belonged here.

Brooke is a stay-at-home mom, amateur seamstress, RPG enthusiast, and art hobbyist, in addition to all that book writing. As the jack-of-all-trades bard of the family, she adventures through life with her fiercely-bearded paladin of a husband, their daughter the sticky-fingered rogue, and their cowardly wizard of a dog, with only a sleep spell in his spellbook.

They currently reside in Northwest Arkansas, but once they earn enough loot and experience, they’ll build a proper castle somewhere and defend against all manner of dragons and goblins, and whatever else dares take them on.

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Book Promo: Excerpt & Giveaway! Ignite The Shadows by Ingrid Seymour

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Sixteen-year-old Marci Guerrero is one of the best teen hackers in Seattle. However, she’d give up all her talents to know she isn’t crazy.

Marci feels possessed by what she perceives as shadowy spectres that take control of her body and make her do crazy things. While spying on the clandestine group known as IgNiTe, she’s confronted by the leader, James McCray. His presence stirs the spectres inside her brain into a maddening frenzy. Her symptoms and ability to control them don’t go unnoticed by James, who soon recruits her and shows her the awful truth.

Half of the world’s population is infected by sentient parasites. They bind themselves to the human brain and replace the pathways for all thoughts and actions. The creatures then morph their hosts into grotesque monsters with extraordinary strengths. Winged, clawed, fanged half-humans become living nightmares. Now Marci wishes she was crazy, because the truth is worse.

She’s infected.

He gives me a sad smile. “Aren’t you always the one telling me to grow up once and for all? Always saying I’m … how did you put it?” He makes air quotes. “‘Perfectly irrational’? Hmm?”

Xave waits for me to say something. But what is there to say?

He continues. “For once I’m trying to see past my narrow, judgmental views. I’m … expanding my horizons. Breaking stereotypes. And you don’t approve?”

I cross my arms over my stained t-shirt. “Is that what you’re calling your sexcapades now?” There’s a twist of bitter lemon on top of my comment.

“Again … even if that’s what this is all about, why do you care?”

I wish he’d stop beating on that drum. It makes me feel hollow inside.

“You’ve never cared before,” he says, having found a more bitter substance than mine to make his point.

Our eyes lock and the silence between us swells and swells with an absence of words that need to be figured out. But I’m dry as a bone. I have nothing to give, nothing to offer. I’m the one who’s perfectly irrational. It takes one to know one, after all.

“The world is going to hell, Marci. I may as well enjoy it while it lasts. I can’t … wait forever.” His last two words are loaded with meaning.

Is he trying to say that he’s … waiting for me? I shrink away from the thought. That can’t be what he’s trying to say! Why doesn’t he just tell me what he means? My mouth hangs open, a mute “O” of incredulity. Is this the way he chooses to let me know? A way that is, by no means, clear.

“We should talk. There’s something I should tell you and maybe something you’d like to say to me?” Xave tells me in a sweet, inviting tone. He leans closer, hazel eyes drilling mine with heated intensity.

His hand—up till now resting on the table—moves inches slowly toward mine. His fingernails are blue from the cue chalk. I see the Celtic tattoo between his middle and fore fingers. It’s so small I always forget about it. My body tenses and I instinctively pull back a bit. And even though my fingers retract only a few inconsequential millimeters, the distance feels insurmountable, because Xave’s eyes darken with the knowledge that I’ve recoiled from him. Again.

Ingrid Seymour is the author of IGNITE THE SHADOWS. When she’s not writing books, she spends her time working as a software engineer, cooking exotic recipes, hanging out with her family and working out. She writes young adult and new adult fiction in a variety of genres, including Sci-Fi, urban fantasy, romance, paranormal and horror.

Her favorite outings involve a trip to the library or bookstore where she immediately gravitates toward the YA section. She’s an avid reader and fangirl of many amazing books. She is a dreamer and a fighter who believes perseverance and hard work can make dreams come true.

She lives in Birmingham, AL with her husband, two kids and a cat named Mimi.

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Book Blitz! The Dead Day Journal, Volume 1 by Sandra Campbell

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The daughter of a radical doomsday prepper, Leo Marrok spent her entire life preparing for the end. A skilled fighter and perfect marksman, Leo is her father’s second-in-command when Armageddon comes to pass. Together, they lead a group of survivors to a secure bunker deep in the Appalachian Mountains.

Vincent Marrok is willing to take extreme measures to repopulate their broken world. Leo’s refusal marks her as a traitor. With father and daughter at odds for the first time, their frail community is thrust into turmoil. Until the unthinkable happens, a blood-thirsty horde arrives. The impending attack will destroy all that they have worked for.

To protect her home and everything she believes in, Leo puts her faith in the arms of the enemy—a creature only rumored to exist—the one she calls Halloween. An alliance born out of necessity evolves into feelings Leo is ill-equipped to handle.

The Dead Days Journal is a post-apocalyptic story of love and family told through Leo Marrok’s first-hand account and the pages of Vincent’s personal journal, giving two very different perspectives on what it takes to survive.

Mature themes, adult language, sexual situations, violence and gore. 18+

Ben watched as I finished getting dressed, his eyes glistening in the dark. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t go, Leo.” His whispered pleas were growing louder. I knew he was sorry, just as I knew it wasn’t his fault. Eventually this was going to happen. I had known it. How could we continue to be together and not be together? He couldn’t. I couldn’t.

“Stop saying you’re sorry.”

When I stood to go, Ben grabbed my arm. I didn’t pull away but just looked at him with a horrible sadness ripping through my heart. “Let go.”

Ben released his grip as a single tear escaped his eye and fell. “I love you.”

Not only did I not say it, I never even looked back. I simply walked away. But my emotions wouldn’t let me stay quiet for long. As soon as I exited the back door, I ran through the cave opening into the early dawn and down to the spring-fed river. Not bothering to take off my mother’s treasured dress, I plunged into the icy-cold river and screamed through the pain under the water.

I tried to ignore the throbbing ache in my extremities and swam to the middle where I couldn’t touch bottom and the current was strong. I floated on my back and let the river take me away. Above me, the pink hues of dawn were brightening, and I watched the brilliant night stars dissolve into nothing. If only for a short time, I wished to feel nothing, to be nothing. At least now my hands and feet had completely disappeared.

“Leo! What are you doing?” I didn’t have to look to know it was Lincoln. I recognized the high-pitched squealing and swam toward shore.

Damn, kid, what are you doing outside alone at this hour?

Once I started to move again, my arms and legs were no longer unfeeling. My blood was moving as I waded back to shore. Sharp piercing stabs replaced the numb ache.

“Why are you outside alone?”

A cool morning breeze raised fresh goose bumps. Chilled straight through to the bone, my teeth chattered like a tightly-wound plastic toy.

“I had a bad dream and you weren’t in bed.” Lincoln pulled a brown plaid scarf from around his neck and handed it to me. The scarf wasn’t much, but it was enough to get a spot or two dry.

“Come on. I’ll race you inside and you can tell me all about it.”

Lincoln didn’t move. He stood there staring past me. I turned around to see Jack crouched on the opposite side of the river. His black hair was shiny wet, as was the rest of his nude, hard-coiled body. Another chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the cold. Jack’s eyes narrowed to dark slits as he watched me take hold of my brother’s pale hand to lead him away from the riverbank. “Come on. Let’s run together.”

Sandra R. Campbell lives along the tranquil waters of the Chesapeake Bay with her husband and weight challenged cat. She can trace her passion for the macabre back to reading Edgar Allen Poe as a child, with her pet crow, Big Fellow, by her side. She has since submerged herself in a wide range of dark literature. An avid thrill seeker, Sandra is always looking for her next big adrenaline rush, and when spelunking, diving and monster hunting fails to deliver, she turns to the creation of through-the-rabbit-hole worlds and sends her characters on their own adventures. Sandra also writes children's stories, is a member of the Maryland Writers' Association, the head of a M.W.A. critique group, and the founder and co-author of Waterfrontwriters.com.

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Book Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! Impervious, Ascension #1 by Heather Letto

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The residents of Impervious are the remnant—the survivors of the War of Annihilation. And though the city is chockfull of pleasures to tantalize and entertain, a beast lurks in the corners, haunting the residents with its presence. 

The Beast—a mysterious and terminal illness killed off most of Generations One, Two, and Three. And as Gen-Four prepares to take the stage, a provocative, yet questionable, new method to avoid an untimely death incites a cultural rage. 

But Fran lives counter-culture, off the grid in true rebel fashion. With a life far from opulent, she scurries through dark tunnels, searching for hot meals with Pete while ditching the holographic security team. To her, it’s a healthy trade-off. Unaccountability means The Council can’t steal her sliver of hope―a belief that she’ll see The Epoch arrive before The Beast can pull her into its fetid embrace. 

After losing her mother and then her Rebel mentor, Fran stumbles upon a miraculous discovery that may save the residents of Impervious. That is, if she can outrun The Beast…

Fran spied Gillius, third in line, in front of a girl with a sleek chestnut mane. Like the others, Gillius’ left fist rested on his chest, pinky pointed upward as he gave honor to the great city of Impervious. His glassy stare screamed of the venom already snaking through his veins, soon to bring an end to his life. 

A shudder shook Fran as she wondered about corporeal termination. Rumors spoke of an excruciating end where the forfeitures dropped into agonizing spasms of death during the final pageant. Fran shivered again and reminded herself that sensationalism stemmed from useless gossip which, in turn, always led to melodrama. Then again, the entire event was absurd, so why not? 

She questioned whether she and Pete should even be there, gawking like a typical resident as the parade worked their way down the stairs from center stage to the outside rim of the circle. They began an official promenade moving as one unit, soundlessly, like a snake slithers through tall grasses. Right behind Gillius, the girl—what’s her name?—moved with the grace of a dancer, while glowing hair cascaded about her shoulders like the velvety train of her robe. 

Chestnut Peak―that was it. 

As the procession moved closer, Fran could make out their facial features with better clarity. Chestnut’s obvious youth surprised her. As far as she knew, no one under twenty-five had ever forfeited, yet this girl still had the look of a mid-lifer, like Fran. 

The line swayed with rhythmic motion, and soon snaked only fifteen feet or so away from the venting where Fran and Pete hid. The eerie silence which enshrouding the promenade morphed into the sound of rushing air. A dozen pairs of slippers moved in a whisper just a few inches from Fran’s eyes. When the fourth set of feet swished into her line of vision, Fran noticed a hesitation. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, would you please bow your heads as Sasha Lee Dees surrenders, and we give honor to her name.”

Sasha? Fran sucked in her breath. 

The entire march halted. A deafening silence reverberated through the courts followed by horrific gurgling sounds. Then, Sasha dropped to the floor. Not more than a few feet from where Fran sat tucked into the venting, her chestnut head rolled from side to side and her eyes shone like polished black orbs. 

Back when Fran still lived in the Old East Wing, Sasha had visited their pod once or twice to work with Ted on his macros. Fran remembered spying on them from her doorway, hoping to catch her brother making a move or something. She could almost hear Sasha’s easy laughter and witty remarks.

Now, however, her eyes locked onto Fran’s as if screaming for help. Her face contorted, and her body trembled. Fran felt a vibration move through her own body as her nerves quivered in sympathetic pain. Sasha’s arms and legs splayed and spasmed as her back arched and head thrashed about. A sickening, acrid odor, like a mix of poison and death, wafted from the velvety robe, and bile rose in Fran’s throat. Finally, Sasha’s eyes rolled back into her head, and her movement terminated. 

A cheer erupted from the crowd who loitered on overhead balconies and platforms, and Fran clasped her hands over her mouth stifle the scream that roared through her body. All Accountable residents of legal viewing age watched the event. It was a big deal. Although some probably scrutinized from a small screen in the comfort of their living pods, too many just couldn’t resist the sick urge to watch it live. 

The cheers finally died down, and when reverence returned, the swishing slippers resumed. The seven forfeitures in line behind Sasha tiptoed over the fallen body and continued the march, leaving Sasha where she dropped. 

I’m a book-writing, selfie-taking, latte-drinking, social media gal. I’m living a good life on the road as a full-fledged Bedouin (Well, except, my tent is actually a fully-equipped RV.) Me and my partner-in-crime (Benj) tend to hunker down wherever the skies are clear and the temps stay in the 70’s. We call ourselves Gypsy Nerds because we aimlessly wander the U.S. with glasses perched upon our noses and faces jammed into computer screens (for the first half the day... The second half of the day is typically devoted to playing because we’re also somewhat immature.)

Like most authors, the characters I create are my extended family. And like most readers, when the story ends, I get a little sad. In real life, I have two handsome, hardworking, grown-up boys who know how to make their Mama proud! *Waves to Joey and Mike!*

The Ascension Series is my debut into the world of YA fiction. 

I’m living what I love and loving what I live!

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Book Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! Elevated by Daniel Solomon Kaplan

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Rose doesn't want to be an Elevated. She refuses to have her power unlocked on Elevation Day, unlike her other classmates. The irreversible treatment reveals powers that range from a benefit or a nuisance. For her father, it transformed him into an Unsound, forcing him to a life of exile. 

Her hand is forced after a chance encounter with a previously undiscovered power activates her ability. Living as an Undocumented Elevated, Rose needs the help of others who hide under the government's radar to learn to control her unwanted power. Among them, she unravels secrets about the treatment, the powers, and what happened to her father. Fed up with lies, Rose wants nothing more than to learn the whole truth--even if it means accepting her fate as an Elevated.

Elevated is the first book in a young adult sci-fi series, which takes its inspiration from comic book adventure stories.

A tap on my shoulder causes me to lurch.

“You’re next,” Elliott says.

What did I do to deserve waiting with this guy? “Yeah.”

“Can you really do it?” Elliott asks.

“Do what?”

“Live not knowing, not seeing what could be.”

“I could ask you the same question.”

He’s puzzled.

“Let’s say you go through those doors and become an Unsound. And you get locked away from your family and friends for your entire life. Tell me you won't wonder what a normal life could be.”

Elliott leans in. “You know an Unsound, don’t you?”

I nod. “My dad.”

He turns his head away from me. “I’m sorry.”

I’ve always faced the same reaction. They think it’s sympathy, but it’s fear. As much as everyone talks about genetics not factoring in and your parents not determining your powers, having an Unsound in the family is mark of shame. Most don’t discuss it. The only person in my high school that knows is Aaron. After the torture thrown at me in middle school, the last thing I want to do is let anyone know.

The exit door stands to my left. I want to bolt. Want to get out of this place. Something keeps me glued to my chair.

“Rose. I know you’re scared. But if you leave now, you won’t get another chance.”

He’s right. With millions of kids involved, getting another appointment is near impossible. I would end up with the other Basics. I stare at the screen, willing the phoenix not to fly by again.

“Rose. Think about this.”

“You think I haven’t? It’s all I’ve thought for years. I’m not like you, or the other kids here. You sit there, blindly waiting for your number to be called, trusting everything will be—“

“You don't know me at all.” For the first time, there’s terror in Elliott’s face. He turns back to watch the screen.

“So you’re scared too, then.”

Did he feel as helpless as I did?

Elliott takes a deep breath. “I can't control which system I was born in. I can only control how I cope with it.”

“That's the only power you think you have?” I ask.

“It’s the only power any of us have. Anything else is an illusion.”

My heart jolts as the phoenix flies by and displays my number. The mechanical voice cuts through me. “Now serving A535. That's A535. Thank you.”

I’m still. Trapped between two worlds. Somehow, none of the thinking, the planning or the debating have prepared me for this moment. Elliott stands and tries to nudge me out of my chair. I won’t move. I’ll wait here. If they want me so bad, they can drag me through those doors. A part of me wishes they would. The exit is a few steps away.

“Rose, please!” His blue eyes plead with me.

Daniel Solomon Kaplan is a playwright turned author after much arm twisting from his wife. He currently has several novels in the works, including CATALYST, the next book of the Elevated Series, scheduled to debut before the end of the year.

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