Book Blitz: The Red Sheet by Mia Kerick

The Red Sheet

Title: The Red Sheet
Series: None
Author: Mia Kerick with a foreword by C. Kennedy
Age Group: Young Adult, GLBT
Genre: Contemporary Romance, M/M
Publication Date: Feb 21, 2014 by Harmony Ink Press
Organised by: Writer Marketing Services



One October morning, high school junior Bryan Dennison wakes up a different person—helpful, generous, and chivalrous—a person whose new admirable qualities he doesn’t recognize. Stranger still is the urge to tie a red sheet around his neck like a cape.

Bryan soon realizes this compulsion to wear a red cape is accompanied by more unusual behavior. He can’t hold back from retrieving kittens from tall trees, helping little old ladies cross busy streets, and defending innocence anywhere he finds it.

Shockingly, at school, he realizes he used to be a bully. He’s attracted to the former victim of his bullying, Scott Beckett, though he has no memory of Scott from before “the change.” Where he’d been lazy in academics, overly aggressive in sports, and socially insecure, he’s a new person. And although he can recall behaving egotistically, he cannot remember his motivations.

Everyone, from his mother to his teachers to his “superjock” former pals, is shocked by his dramatic transformation. However, Scott Beckett is not impressed by Bryan’s newfound virtue. And convincing Scott he’s genuinely changed and improved, hopefully gaining Scott’s trust and maybe even his love, becomes Bryan’s obsession.



I’D NEVER hidden in the high school boys’ bathroom, or any other bathroom, come to think of it, before. Not even once—from anybody or anything. I guess already being six foot two, and sharing no resemblance to a rack of bones, in my freshman year had kind of relieved me of the burden most ninth graders suffered of needing to hide from the terrible seniors—I’d already towered over most of them. But in more general terms, I didn’t hide because: A) I was too big to find any sort of a decent hiding spot in a men’s room, and B) everybody else was too busy hiding from me so all possible hiding spots were occupied. Nonetheless, here I was, cowering in a bathroom stall.
I needed to be alone for a few minutes. I needed to figure out what the fuck was happening in my life. I’ll put it this way: I was starting to get a sneaking suspicion that this weird personality change that had come over me went well beyond a desire for a red cape. Yeah, this was something far more complicated.
Inside the stall, the toilet had no lid to sit on, so sitting down on the toilet seat in a dignified manner, with my pants up, did not seem to be an option. On TV, I’d seen plenty of crafty characters hide in bathroom stalls by standing on top of the toilet seat so that if anyone looked under the stall to see if somebody was in there, no feet would be dangling down. But if I was to try that tack, I’d put my head right through the ceiling, as I’d grown at least two inches since freshman year. I guess six foot four wasn’t always an advantage. So I went with sitting cross-legged in front of the toilet. Unsanitary? Yes. Pathetic? Quite possibly. But it was the best I could come up with in the heat of the moment.
Strangely, when I finally got my long body folded into that bent-up position on the floor in front of the toilet, I could see that there was already someone curled up on the floor in the stall next to mine. So much for my solitary thinking time.
I directed my question to the lifeless body. “Excuse me… um… are you feeling okay?” I had no choice. I was called to respond to an insatiable drive within me to help those in need. And this guy had to be in major need or he wouldn’t be crumpled up into a fetal ball on the filthy bathroom floor. “Like… dude, want me to go get the nurse or something?”
I couldn’t see his face, as it was covered up by his arms. He didn’t make a sound.
“Is it your stomach? There’s a lot going around right now, I’d say. My mom is a nurse at County General Hospital and she told me that….” I let my words trail off, suspecting the guy wasn’t listening to me anyways.
“Just leave me alone.”
Well, that was a start, wasn’t it? I mean, we were communicating now.
Positive thinking, Bry.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” I was afraid too. I was afraid the new chivalrous part of me wasn’t gonna let me leave the bathroom until I had gotten this guy onto his feet and smiling up at me. And class started in ten minutes, which didn’t leave me a hell of a lot of time to accomplish my lofty goal. “At least tell me what’s wrong.”
“Like you don’t already know.” His response was both muffled and pissed-off sounding, but, again, it was communication, so I felt thankful.
Thankful to whom? I had no idea. I was just thankful, period. (Try to hold off on the fucking analysis at this point, okay, reader?)
“Call me clueless, but I have no idea what is troubling you.”
He slid to the edge of my stall and stuck his head in. I saw a flash of blond hair and wire-rimmed glasses perched on an adorable nose—it was Scott Beckett, the kid from the cafeteria.
“It’s you.”
“Yeah, asshole, it’s me. So, go ahead, do what you came here to do. You going to give me a swirly? Make me lick the urinals…. What’s it going to be this time, Dennison?”
I had no idea how to respond. I’d never so much as laid eyes on this kid before, and he was acting like I’d been in on some kind of a bullying brigade directed solely at him. Either I had missed something major, or he had a very vivid imagination. “Refresh my memory, Beckett. Tell me what I did… uh, the last time.”
Still sprawled out flat on the floor beside me, directly underneath the stall divider, his pretty face screwed up into a tight knot, he squealed, “Fuck you, Dennison! Acting like you forgot is even more insulting than what you did to me in the first place. Like, I can believe that you and your buddy torture any kid who looks like an easy target, so you can’t remember all the evil details of each individual case, but what you did to me? Saturday night? Just… just fuck you!”
I nodded and then shook my head. I was clueless and confused… and starting to feel guilty. For what, I didn’t know.
Plus, Scott Beckett was just so… so interesting. So appealing.
Why would I ever try to hurt him?
“God, you’re an even bigger asshole than I thought you were… and that’s sure saying something.” Scott dragged himself up off the floor. Once he was standing in the stall beside mine, he asked me, “So, other than last Saturday night, you usually play the role of the evil sidekick when you’re out in public. Where’s your buddy Wilson—the instigator?”
“Brandon Wilson?”
“Ya think? Let me guess… five, four, three, two, one… looks like he’s late, isn’t he? But I know he’s going to burst in here, conveniently, at any second now, right? Or maybe he’s waiting outside the door for an audio cue or something?”
I stood up too. What this dude was implying about my personal character was highly disturbing.
“Should I scream? Is that the signal—or are you going for the tears again, you fuckwad-asswipe?”
Tears? Again?
Fuckwad-asswipe? Me?
“No, Brandon’s back in the cafeteria. Now listen, buddy, just do me a favor—”
“Did you just call me ‘buddy’?” He asked me so loudly that his voice echoed in the tiny stall.
“Just tell me what I did to you.”
His stall door slammed, indicating he was now out in the main part of the bathroom. So I came out of my stall as well. And Scott Beckett was just standing there in front of the sink, glasses in hand, looking up at me with round bright eyes, his pretty pink-skinned face saturated with the purest fury I’d ever seen, and it was all directed my way. I mean, this kid fucking hated me… and I didn’t know him from Adam. “I’m not about to do you any favors, Dennison.” His thin top lip curled up in disgust, and then he added in a low voice, “Besides, we both know what went down.”
With one last scathing look, he fled the bathroom. And I was even more flabbergasted than I had been five minutes before when I’d come into the men’s room to think.
That kid is completely full of bull.
Yeah, that had to be it: Scott Beckett was messing with my head. Right? But… but back in the caf, hadn’t Brandon suggested that we had done something to this kid… and that he seemed to be looking forward to the two of us finishing the job we’d started on him? And, for that matter, Jack had referred to the fact that Brandon and me had made more than one trip to the principal’s office in regard to bullying this kid.
I grabbed a hold on the sink, because the entire bathroom was suddenly spinning all around me. I was dizzy, but I was sure it wasn’t because of the shocking realization that I may have done something seriously nasty to Scott Beckett (that I somehow couldn’t remember) to make him hate me this way. No, it wasn’t that at all… convenient memory lapses don’t just happen. Most probably, I was dizzy because I was exhausted. I guessed that maybe I’d drunk more than my fair share on Saturday night, because, in truth, Sunday was mostly a blur too. Or maybe somebody had slipped me a roofie, which could definitely be the reason I was sick and dizzy and I couldn’t remember shit. All I had to do was just make it through the rest of the day, and then serve my detention, go home, and get a good night’s sleep. I’d tell Mom I was sick… that I wasn’t up for a big dinner. That was the truth too—I really wasn’t up for food or conversation.
Rest was all I needed… and tomorrow when I woke up, things would be crystal clear again.
But, shit, I hope Mom brings home those sheets.

Mia KerickAbout the Author

Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled men and their relationships, and she believes that sex has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press for providing her with an alternate place to stash her stories.

Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

My themes I always write about:
Sweetness. Unconventional love, tortured/damaged heroes- only love can save them.

You can find Mia at: Website | Facebook | Amazon |


Blog Tour: Tempus by Holly Lauren

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TempusTitle: Tempus
Series: None
Author: Holly Lauren
Age Group: New Adult
Genre: Fantasy
Publication Date: November 2013
Buy Links: Amazon UK | Amazon US | B&N
Organised by: GMTA Publishing

Chapel Ryan isn’t crazy. At least, that’s what she’s been trying to convince herself of for most of her life. But after being hallucination-free for three years, Chapel finds herself facedown on her English classroom’s gritty linoleum floor. When she looks up, everyone around her is suspended in animation. Mouths hang open mid-yawn, feet hover mid-cross, Ms. Freeman’s arm flexes mid-sentence diagram. It’s another hallucination. Or, is it?

Chapel prepares to tear herself back to reality when something happens. Something that has never happened before in any of her hallucinations–someone moves. And not just any someone—it’s the new guy with a scar over his lip and a reputation as black as his perfectly styled hair. And all of the sudden Chapel’s white-knuckle grip on her life has slipped, and with it, her assurance that what she’s experiencing isn’t real.


Guest Post
How to write a book.

First, you should know that I’m mildly insane. Most writers are. We’re great liars, we’re always in our heads, and we’re constantly picking apart our surroundings to scavenge ideas for our current (or next) book. With that as my disclaimer, take a journey with me through the glitter and leopard print labyrinth of my writer’s brain to see how I write.

Step One: Get inspired.

Read something that makes your heart beat fast. Watch a movie that makes you swoon. Listen to music. Go on a hot date. Kiss your child goodnight. Go to church. Eat a fantastic steak. You can’t get water from a dry well. Make sure you fill yourself up.

For me, I’m most inspired by music and books. When I hear something or read something that moves me, I stop and say, What made me feel that? And, How can I recreate that in my writing? Yes, EMOTIONAL PLAGIARISM, PEOPLE.

I’m always inspired by the music of Andrew Belle and books like Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion or anything by Cassandra Clare.

Step Two: Put it on paper.

That book isn’t going to write itself, sweetheart. So make sure you’re putting words on paper every day. Don’t waste hours crafting the perfect sentence or scene—that’s for the editing phase. What’s most important is transferring your dream from your head onto paper. Right now. No, seriously. Stop reading this and write one sentence.

I heard a quote once that said, ‘Don’t write it right, just write it.’ When I’m writing a scene that isn’t flowing the way I want it to, I push through. I make myself finish. I do come back and change like, 50 percent of it, but it’s better than getting stuck.

I don’t do outlines. L I wish I could. But my best ideas are always improvised. For me, the most important thing is to know my characters. It really takes the work out of creating the plot. If you know your characters, you can drop them into any situation and ask, ‘What would they do next? What would they want? What would they say?’ It really writes itself after that! (HA! I wish. But it does make it easier.)

While it’s important to know your characters, you don’t have to put your characters in a box. Let them change. Let them grow. In fact, they need to change and grow. It’s always good to sit down and evaluate your characters at different times in you writing. (Cue suspenseful music.) For example, in my last creative meeting for the sequel to TEMPUS, a character whom I’ve always planned to be good will take a villainous turn … (See how I plugged my next book, there?)

Step Three: Edit. Edit. And edit some more.

That first draft? It’s crap. No, seriously. It’s good crap, but crap nonetheless. Never stop at the first draft. Give yourself more credit than that! You have to edit. Edit. Edit. Peel back the layers. Remove the excess. If it’s not vital, lose it. If it’s something you think is GOOD, but still isn’t vital, save it for your next book.

Read it until you’re sick of it. Ask other people (who aren’t your mother or significant other) to read it. And, if you’re serious about being published, hire someone to edit it. I know this idea sounds terrible, because I love money as much as the next shopaholic, but you need the help of a professional.

I wrote Tempus in six months. I spent two years editing it. Now, that’s what we like to call OCD, so I’m not saying that’s wise (or even socially acceptable). I’m just saying that the amount of time you spend perfecting your piece should at least be proportionate to the amount of time you spent creating it.

I love to hear from other writers! If you have great writing ideas, email them to me at I’ll put the most helpful ones on my blog!

Holly LaurenAbout the Author
Holly was born and raised in a small town in North Georgia. The third of four children, Holly grew up telling stories to get herself out of—and her siblings into—trouble. When she was eight years old, she penned her first publication: a newspaper called Sunny Dayz News. While she didn’t sell any actual copies, her sympathetic grandmother did peruse through the edition at least once.

When Holly isn’t dreaming up new plotlines for her next book, she enjoys breakfasting at Picnic Café in Dahlonega, Georgia with her (handsome) husband and their two (adorable) daughters.

You can find Holly at: Website | Twitter | Facebook

Giveaway (INT)
(20) eBooks of Tempus.

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Book Blast: Flawed (Perfection #2) by J. L. Spelbring

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FlawedTitle: Flawed
Series: Perfection, book 2
Author: J. L. Spelbring
Age Group: Young Adult
Genre: Sci-fi, Dystopian
Expected Release Date: August 12, 2014 by Spencer Hill Press
Buy Links: Amazon UK | Amazon US | B&N
In a world where Hitler won the The War, and perfection is constantly sought, Ellyssa has broken free from her austere life and has found another meaning for her existence.

Family, friendship, and love.

But her happiness is short lived. Ellyssa finds herself on the run, again. Her father’s work didn’t die with him, but lives on in her siblings, Aalexis and Xaver, and they are determined to complete his unfinished dream.


PerfectionTitle: Perfection
Series: Perfection, book 1
Author: J. L. Spelbring
Age Group: Young Adult
Genre: Sci-fi, Dystopian
Publication Date: July 16, 2013 by Spencer Hill Press
Buy Links: Amazon UK | Amazon US | B&N
The personification of Aryan purity, Ellyssa’s spent her whole life under her creator’s strict training and guidance; her purpose is to eradicate inferior beings. She was genetically engineered to be the perfect soldier: strong, intelligent, unemotional, and telepathic.

Only Ellyssa isn’t perfect.

Ellyssa feels emotions–a fact she’s spent her life concealing. Until she encounters the epitome of inferiority: a dark-haired boy raised among renegades hiding since the Nazis won the war a century ago. He speaks to her telepathically, pushing thoughts into her mind, despite the impossibility of such a substandard person having psychic abilities.
But he does.

His unspoken words and visions of a place she’s never visited make Ellyssa question her creator. Confused and afraid her secret will be discovered, Ellyssa runs away, embarking on a journey where she discovers there is more to her than perfection.


J. L. SpelbringAbout the Author
J.L. Spelbring – lives in Texas, where she wanders out in the middle of the night to look at the big and bright stars. Besides knocking imaginary bad guys in the head with a keyboard, she enjoys being swept away between the pages of a book, running amuck inside in her own head, pretending she is into running, and hanging out with her kids, who are way too cool for her.

You can find J.L. Spelbring at: Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Blast-wide Giveaway
A copy of Perfection & Flawed (when ARCs become available)

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Waiting on Wednesday #6


“Waiting On” Wednesday is a weekly event, hosted by Jill @ Breaking the Spine, that spotlights upcoming releases that we’re eagerly anticipating!

My pick this week is…

Half BadTitle: Half Bad
Series: Half Life Trilogy, book 1
Author: Sally Green
Age Group: Young Adult
Genre: Paranormal, Fantasy
Publication Date: March 4, 2014 by Viking Juvenile

In modern-day England, witches live alongside humans: White witches, who are good; Black witches, who are evil; and fifteen-year-old Nathan, who is both. Nathan’s father is the world’s most powerful and cruel Black witch, and his mother is dead. He is hunted from all sides. Trapped in a cage, beaten and handcuffed, Nathan must escape before his sixteenth birthday, at which point he will receive three gifts from his father and come into his own as a witch—or else he will die. But how can Nathan find his father when his every action is tracked, when there is no one safe to trust—not even family, not even the girl he loves?

In the tradition of Patrick Ness and Markus Zusak, Half Bad is a gripping tale of alienation and the indomitable will to survive, a story that will grab hold of you and not let go until the very last page.(Goodreads)


I absolutely adore books about witches. I’ve even got one or two witch books on my bookshelves, grimoires and such, everything about it intrigues me. And the cover is awesome!

What are you waiting for?


Spotlight: Honest Sid by Ronald Probstein

Honest SidTitle: Honest Sid: Memoir of a Gambling Man
Author: Ronald Probstein
Genre: Memoir
Publication Date: June 26, 2013 by PubShelf
Buy Links: Amazon UK | Amazon US
Organised by: PubShelf
If you’re going to live outside the law, you’d better be honest. This seeming paradox was the operating principle of Sid Probstein’s life. Guileless and endlessly optimistic, he was known as Honest Sid around his stomping ground of New York’s Broadway. Sid wasn’t a tough guy, or even a bad guy. He just never had the patience for the “straight” life, grinding out a living at some monotonous desk job. He was the quintessential American dreamer, always sure that the good life was just one big score away, a man who never stopped believing in his own good luck, even when the evidence said otherwise. He had all the tools, he was charming, good- looking, quick- witted and decent, but he had an obsession he couldn’t escape. Honest Sid is the story of an American archetype as seen through the eyes of his son, Ronald, who loved him, and who almost lost him. It follows Sid’s adventures in the world of bookies and bettors, fighters and fixers, players and suckers set against the often- romanticized backdrop of Depression- era New York. It is also the passionate tale of the great and tempestuous love between Sid and his wife Sally, and of his son Ronald whom he idolized.


Ronald ProbsteinAbout the Author
One of America’s foremost engineering scientists, Ronald Probstein is Ford Professor of Engineering, Emeritus at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. His undergraduate training was at New York University’s night school and his graduate work in aeronautical engineering and physics at Princeton. He has played a principal role in some of the most important scientific and technical achievements in the post World War II era, involving spacecraft and ballistic missile reentry physics, hypersonic flight theory, comet astrophysics, desalination, synthetic fuels, and the electrokinetic remediation of soil. For these achievements, he has been honored as a member of the National Academy of Sciences, National Academy of Engineering, American Academy of Arts and Sciences, International Academy of Astronautics, and awarded an honorary doctorate from Brown University. Author, editor, lecturer, inventor, Professor Probstein has ten critically acclaimed scientific and technical books to his credit. Born in New York City in 1928, he lives in Brookline, Massachusetts with his wife, Irène. He has one son, Sidney, and three grandchildren.

Cover Reveal: One Broke Girl (Edgewood Falls #1) by Rhonda Helms

This is the first in a 3-novella trilogy set in Edgewood Falls. Book 1, ONE BROKE GIRL, releases in April. Book 2, TWO LITTLE LIES, releases in June. Book 3, THREE PERFECT NIGHTS, releases in August.

One Broke Girl

Title: One Broke Girl
Series: Edgewood Falls, book 1
Author: Rhonda Helms
Genre: Contemporary, Romance
Publication Date: April 2014
Designed by: Okay Creations
Organised by: Xpresso Book Tours
Anna Parker’s life disintegrates with one phone call. Her dad’s selling their ritzy New York City condo because her Wall Street banker mom emptied their bank account and ran off with another man. Which means Anna has to drop out of her elite college and move with Dad back to their small Ohio hometown. Anna’s determined to reclaim her life ASAP, so she’ll use the next few months to save money, help Dad get back on his feet, and find and confront her mom.

But Anna doesn’t anticipate things going so wrong. The only job she can get is working as a lunch lady in an elementary school. Their money-pit duplex is falling apart around their feet. And her dad is depressed without her mom, who’s proving hard to find.

One bright spot in the chaos is Gavin Metcalf, a kindergarten teacher she dated when they were young teens. With his easy wit and sexy smiles, he makes her forget her stresses—and the fact that her boyfriend Steven back in New York doesn’t know the truth yet about her dire circumstances. When past and present collide, Anna has to decide where her future lies…


Rhonda HelmsAbout the Author
Rhonda Helms started writing several years ago. She has a Master’s degree in English and a Bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing. She also edits for Carina Press (an imprint of Harlequin Publishing) and freelance edits.

When she isn’t writing, she likes to do amateur photography, dig her toes into the sand, read for hours at a time, and eat scads of cheese. WAY too much cheese.

Rhonda lives in Northeast Ohio with her family.

You can find Rhonda at: Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Interview: Edwin Dasso, Author of In the Line of Ire

Today I’m very happy to welcome Edwin Dasso, Author of ‘In the Line of Ire’ to Morphys’ Book Blog for an interview.

Tell us a little about yourself…
Though some who know me might argue, I think I’m a pretty laid back person who has a broad set of diverse interests. I like to be creative but, at the same time, I enjoy the more objective aspects of science and technology that allows me to help patients. My wife and kids are my best friends.

How did you get into writing?
For me, it’s more like getting back into writing. As a kid I would draw pictures and write short sci-fi stories for entertainment. Though my career had me more focused on non-fiction writing, I’d kept a journal for many years of fiction ideas. After hearing me say one time too many, “Gee, I oughta write a book,” my kids finally said, “Stop talking about it and do it.” So I did and found I really enjoy writing, much as I did in my younger days.

What inspired you to write In the Line of Ire?
Actually, this was a new and fun experience for me. I wrote the book at the request of readers of my 1st couple of books. They told me they wanted to know the main characters better and get a glimpse into how Lori and Jack’s relationship developed. It was quite interesting to me how many readers made that similar type of request.

If made into a film what would be your dream cast?
Maybe Daniel Craig or Hugh Jackman as Jack. Nicole Kidman for Lori.

Who was your favorite character to write and why?
Lori w/ Jack a close second. I really enjoyed writing ITLoI since it was on a request from readers who wanted to get to know the main characters better. That made me want to write Lori as someone unique, different and complex. I wanted to give insight into how she had arrived where she was in career and life but still make her a believable character. That’s why she’s a compassionate, tough nurse who advocates for her patients but is also adept w/ a pistol.

What are you working on now?
The 4th book in the Jack Bass Black Cloud Chronicles, tentatively titled, “Don’t Worry, I’ll Protect You.” I took a bit of a different plot approach on this one, again based on reader feedback. I think the ending may hold a real surprise for readers of the series!

What is your poison of choice when writing?
For my current project, Mint Mocha, last book was white chocolate-raspberry mocha. I like to change up the drink and coffeehouse w/ each project to give each a “unique flavor.” (pun intended, although, the change in scenery and drink really does help me creatively – I really can’t sit at a desk and write)

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?
I feel like I’m an aspiring writer! Advice I might give, though, would be to not underestimate the effort necessary to write, publish and sell a novel. I think if one doesn’t have a passion for it, they’re likely to be frustrated.

What genres do you prefer to read?
I was a sci-fi fanatic as a kid (have you ever heard of the “Tom Swift” series?) and still read it a lot. As an adult, adventure and political thrillers have also become a favorite.

Who is your favourite author and/or book?
Most recently, V Flynn (RIP). I really like his Mitch Rapp character. Sadly, I guess I’ll have to find another, now.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
Professionally, I’m working w/ some brilliant people to define new ways to intervene and prevent people from transitioning from health to chronic illness and have published some scientific articles recently related to that. For hobbies I enjoy woodworking, metal-working and auto racing (maybe more of a vice than a hobby). Also, most any outdoor activity in the air, on the water or in the yard.

If you had to describe yourself in three words what would they be?
Introverted, kind, curious

If you could have one superpower what would it be and why?
Turn weapons that are used by a human against another human into nonfunctional clumps of inert material. Knife blades would turn to rubber, clubs would turn to sponge whiffle bats, guns wouldn’t shoot, etc. I grew tired many years ago of seeing what humans can do to each other at times of their worst behavior. I know it wouldn’t be this simple, that someone could always create a “what if” scenario where a weapon might be of use, but if there were no weapons that could be used, one human against another, perhaps it would force us to learn how to communicate and negotiate better.

Thank you so much for joining us Ed, it was lovely having you!

In the Line of IreAbout the book
Title: In the Line of Ire
Series: Jack Bass Black Cloud Chronicles, book 1
Author: Edwin Dasso
Genre: Thriller
Publication Date: February 3, 2014
Buy Links: Amazon UK | Amazon US
The Prequel to Past Aghast…

Captain Jack Bass becomes the target of hatred and malicious jealousy from his commanding officer. Blaming Jack for his own failings, he sets his sights on Jack as a scapegoat. Fighting for his life, and new found love with Lori Darden, the pair learn how dangerous it can be to raise the ire of a psychopathic boss.

When the chain of command breaks down, Jack Bass fights back and attempts to prevent his world from turning to ash right before his very eyes.

Jack Bass is…

In the Line of Ire.


Ed DassoAbout the Author
Ed Dasso’s works of fiction leverage many of his “stranger than fiction” experiences from years of practice at major medical centers and community hospitals. Fiction writing is reviving a lost love from earlier periods in his life. In addition to a number of years as a practicing anesthesiologist and critical care specialist, he has published articles in national healthcare journals, written many “Ask the Doctor” columns and has spoken frequently at national healthcare forums. He has also been instrumental in designing and deploying population health programs to help people deal with depression.

Organised by: PubShelf

Book Blitz: Fifty First Times: A New Adult Anthology

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Fifty First TimesTitle: Fifty First Times: A New Adult Anthology
Authors: Julie Cross (creator), J. Lynn, Molly McAdams, Sophie Jordan, Roni Loren, Tracy Wolff, Lauren Layne, Andrew Shaffer, Cole Gibson, Myra McEntire, Carrie Ryan, Mark Perini, Gennifer Albin, Lisa Desrochers, Hannah Moskowitz, Lyla Payne, Alessandra Thomas, Melissa Landers, Melissa West
Age Group: New Adult
Publication Date: February 25, 2014 by Avon Impulse
Links: Twitter
Buy Links: Amazon UK | Amazon US | B&N

Organised by: Xpresso Book Tours

You always remember your first time…

Whether it’s the couple who decides not to go through with it, the two boys who finally aren’t ashamed, the newlyweds whose wedding night could very well be their last night together, the deaf pair who have no choice but to take body language to a new level–or, of course, the two young lovers fumbling and laughing, getting everything wrong. These are the memories that will never fade.

Join nineteen fantastic authors as they pull back the curtain and give you a peek inside that one intense moment in their characters’ lives when everything changes and nothing will ever be the same again.

Featuring stories from some of the hottest names in New Adult, Young Adult, and Romance including New York Times Bestselling authors J.Lynn/Jennifer Armentrout, Molly McAdams, Sophie Jordan, and Carrie Ryan.

NOTE: These stories are works of fiction. If you want to know about our first times, you’ll have to buy us a pet monkey first.


“I twist the ring around my left finger. It’s foreign to my body, but in the same way a new pet is foreign to a person’s home. It represents work and responsibility, but somehow you know that it will eventually become a part of you. Jack’s already a part of me. It’s just the ring that’s new.” –DAYLIGHT by Julie Cross
The friendzone wasn’t such a bad place to be. I saw how Allen treated the people he slept with. They were as disposable as red Solo cups. “I’m an equal opportunity lover,” he once told me, “but you can call me a slut.”BUNGA BUNGA by Andrew Shaffer
“Perhaps the gods hadn’t been so perverse after all.”UNDER THE SEYRN MOON by Melissa Landers
“No, if I were brave I would have—“ but I’m not even brave enough to say the words. Instead I take another swallow wine while I finish the sentence in my head. Would have let you make a move on me. Would have touched you. Would have kissed you.”LOVE IN AN ELEVATOR by Carrie Ryan
“Don’t push me away, V. I may not know as much as I want to about you, but the thing you need to know about me is I’m a persistent son of a bitch, and I will wear you down.”A LITTLE TOO SCARRED by Lisa Desrochers

Blitz-wide giveaway
Prizes (US only) – all to 1 winner:
$25 gift card for either Amazon, Apple, or B&N (winners choice)
e-copy of Fifty First Times gifted through Amazon Kindle

*below books will be paperback unless only hard cover is available, also note some books including the featured title are for readers 17-18+
Entire Tempest trilogy by Julie Cross
Letters to Nowhere by Julie Cross
Hourglass by Myra McEntire
Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan
Be with Me by J. Lynn
Gone Gone Gone by Hannah Moskowitz
Stealing Harper by Molly McAdams
Catching Liam by Sophia Bleu/Genn Albin
Need You Tonight by Roni Loren
A Little Too Much by Lisa Desrochers
Foreplay by Sophie Jordan

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Book Blitz: Of Sea and Stone by Kate Avery Ellison

Of Sea and Stone banner

Of Sea and StoneTitle: Of Sea and Stone
Series: None
Author: Kate Avery Ellison
Age Group: Young Adult
Genre: Fantasy
Publication Date: February 2014
Buy Links: Amazon UK, Amazon US, B&N
Organised by: Xpresso Book Tours

All her life, clever Aemi has been a slave in the Village of the Rocks, a place where the sea and sky meet. She’s heard the stories about the fabled People of the Sea, a people who possess unimaginable technology who live below the waves in the dark, secret places of the ocean. But she never dreamed those stories were true.

When a ship emerges from the ocean and men burn her village, Aemi is captured, and enslaved below the waves in Itlantis, a world filled with ancient cities of glass and metal, floating gardens, and wondrous devices that seem to work magic. To make matters worse, her village nemesis, the stuck-up mayor’s son Nol, was captured with her, and they are made servants in the same household beneath the sea.

Desperate to be free, Aemi plots her escape, even going so far as to work with Nol. But the sea holds more secrets than she realizes, and escape might not be as simple as leaving…


The sea sang to itself in the music of blue water and salt and gulls’ cries as I sat above it, crouched atop the column-like Looking Rock with a spear clenched in my hand and words of frustration crawling on my tongue. The water below lapped at the edges of the rock, foaming over the pebbled shore that ringed the rock, and the foam hid the fish I was trying to catch.

I bent over the water and stabbed the spear into the foaming waves. When I withdrew it from the pool, a fish wriggled on the end, and I smiled with a quick jerk of my lips. I had always been good with a spear, somewhat inexplicably according to Nealla.

I tossed the fish into my sack and moved to the other side of the Looking Rock, where the tide pools were often filled with exotic things washed in from the sea. It was a secret place, and few knew to look here. I came often whenever I had a moment of freedom from my duties, for if I could catch enough things of value, I could sell them in the marketplace and add coin to the stash I kept hidden away, the stash that would one day buy my freedom.

The first tide pools were disappointingly empty except for a few anemone and starfish clinging to the sides of the rocks, and a yellow fish darting away from my face as I peered down.

I moved on. Three more pools, empty. But luck had not abandoned me. At the final pool I stopped, transfixed by the creature I saw beneath the surface.

It was eerie and beautiful, with fluttering fins along its throat and back and tail, speckled blue scales, and a mouth full of teeth. It wasn’t a fish or a dolphin or a snake, but something that looked like bits of all three. I had never seen such a creature. It was some monster from the depths, but a small one.

I bent over the rock, sliding my belly forward by inches, peering into the deep glassy green of the pool beneath where the creature swam in small circles, imprisoned until high tide. I didn’t want to use a spear on such a magnificent creature. For this, I needed a net.

I stabbed my spear into the edge of the pool, marking the fish-creature as mine. Then I scrambled to the edge of the Looking Rock. The wind swirled around me, wetting me with a mist of sea spray as I brought my arms forward and dove into the sea below.

Bubbles exploded around me as I swam through the green-blue water. Below, fish wove between a jewel-colored spread of coral. A dark line at the edge of my vision signaled where the shallow waters ended and the deep water began.

No one ever went out into deep water.

I reached the larger rocks that rose from the water like the spearheads of giants and hauled myself onto a sea-carved shelf of white stone. My master’s house was before me, a collection of caves and hollows in the rock. It was a nice house, with a strip of pebbled beach facing west. Beyond the beach, a shallow place for bathing and washing was surrounded by thin white stones that protruded from the water like fingers and broke the force of the waves.

A hole in the rock wall led to the interior. Strings of shells formed a curtain barrier, and they tinkled and clicked in the wind. I shoved them aside and stepped into the cool stone passage leading to the house.

I needed one of my master’s nets. Just to borrow, to catch that fish.

The master’s father sat on a mat beside the fire, muttering to himself. Beside him were nets, the small ones used for hand fishing. He was mending them, his wrinkled hands moving swiftly as he worked over a hole.

“Hello, Old One,” I said, speaking carefully and respectfully. “I need to borrow a net.”

He lifted his head and scrutinized me. I was dripping from the sea. My hair stuck to my neck and forehead. Droplets fell from my fingers.

He reached for one of the nets and lifted it toward me, but pulled it back before I could take it.

“Don’t go in the deep places,” he said, and his voice creaked. “The Sea People are in the deep places.”

“Yes, Old One,” I said, leaning forward to reach the net.

The master’s father was crazy, but gentle. Sometimes he liked to ramble about fables from his youth, and sometimes I listened, because none of the others did, and I felt sorry for him.

I didn’t have time for it today.

“I saw one of their ships the other night,” he continued, pulling the net farther away and out of reach again. “Came up from the depths, black as a wet stone, bright with lights. They’re watching us.”

“Don’t worry, Old One,” I said. “We’ll keep you safe.”

He harrumphed as if doubtful and handed me the net. “Stay out of the deep places,” he said again.

I snatched the net and hurried outside once more. The wind fanned my face. I stopped at the edge of the water and shaded my eyes against the glaring sun.

Someone else was on the Looking Rock. I saw a figure moving around the pool. Confound that Old One and his stories! I splashed into the water, my heart pounding as I swam hard, kicking my legs. I reached the rock and hauled myself up, hair dripping, leaving wet footprints as I ran to the tide pools. A young man stood at the edge of the pool, his feet hanging in the water, his arms braced behind him and his face tipped toward the sun. He was lounging, waiting for me, stretched out as if to show off his physical perfections and the gold bracelets on his arms and ankles. That handsome, arrogant face, smirking mouth, and long, dark lashes that contrasted with his pale, wavy hair—I’d know him anywhere.


I looked past him into the water and stopped in horror.

The creature was gone.

My bag of sad little fish lay at the edge of the rock, looking deflated in the sunlight. My spear lay beside it.

Fury built up at the back of my neck and swept through my throat to take hold of my tongue. Anger licked at my bones.

“You stole my catch.”

Nol opened one eye and looked at me. “What are you talking about? Your bag of fish is right there. I didn’t touch it.”

“No. The creature in the pool—it was my catch. I found it first, as was clearly demonstrated by my spear marking the pool. You took it! Where did you put it?” I was furious, devastated.

Nol straightened and blinked at me. His smile was slow and smooth, like butter being spread across bread.

“It wasn’t your fish,” he said. “It wasn’t in your net, so you had no claim.”

“I marked it with my spear—”

“You aren’t a fisherman, thrall-girl. The rules of the village don’t apply to the likes of you. You have no identifying marker that deserves to be honored, and that thing you call a spear is simply a piece of garbage with a point at one end. It could have washed into the pool on its own, for all I know.”

I wanted to strangle him. My anger was hot and fierce, and it made my legs tremble. But he was the mayor’s second son, and he could do as he liked. Instead, I bit my tongue and turned away.

I’d lost this round, but I would not lose to Nol again.

Kate Avery EllisonAbout the Author
I live in Georgia with my wonderful husband and two spoiled cats. When I’m not writing, I’m usually catching up on my extensive Netflix queue, reading a book, giggling at something funny online, or trying to convince my husband to give me just ONE bite of whatever he’s eating.

Learn more about my writing and books at my blog (, find teasers for upcoming works on my Facebook page (, and subscribe to my new releases newsletter to be notified of new novels as soon as they hit stores (!

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Life of a Blogger #5: Introvert or Extrovert?

Life of a Blogger

Life of a blogger is hosted by Jessi @ Novel Heartbeat where we share stuff about ourselves outside of blogging.

I’d have to say I’m an Introvert. If left to my own devices i’d turn into a hermit and only leave the house if I really had to. I’d rather stay in and read a book with a cup of hot chocolate or play games on my PC as I’m a big gamer. In the summer it’s not too bad going out but I hate the cold and it’s always freezing here in the UK.

But sometimes I’m an extrovert too. Like when I’m out with friends, whether it’s shopping, a cuppa tea (I don’t like coffee) or a night out. I’m definitely an extrovert on a night out. I’m so bubbly and confident when I’ve had a drink. I’ll talk to anyone and everyone, dance without being self-conscious and be really, really loud. When I’m sober I’m more quiet, I hate meeting new people and tend to not talk first. But if someone starts talking to me I’m good to go, as long as I don’t have to take the first step.

Are you an Introvert or Extrovert?