Lights Over Emerald Creek by @ShelleyDavidow #SciFi #YA #AmReading

The Invitation

Lucy looked down at her hands. She didn’t want to see him. Ever.

‘You go and …’ Lucy said.

And then, there he was. The whole of him. Right on the ground, outside the kitchen, in front of her. His hair had grown long over his face. He looked slightly nervous and hitched his shorts with his big tanned hands. His lips curved into a smile. Lucy folded her arms crossly in front of her and met his eyes.

‘Hi,’ he said, looking up at both girls.

‘Well, well,’ Lucy said coldly.

‘Hi. So, how are you?’ he said.

‘Why are you here?’ It took all her courage to keep her thoughts away from the last time she’d seen him. She’d been a whole person then, and he’d held all of her.

‘I, um, thought I’d come say hi,’ he said. ‘It’s been a while.’

She watched him cast his eyes nervously over her legs, her feet, the chair, the metal, the wheels.

‘What makes you think I even want to see you?’ she said.

‘Well, maybe you don’t, huh?’

‘Well, maybe it would have been nice if you’d showed up, say, eight months ago.’

‘I’m sorry, Lu, I was a bloody jerk.’

‘Are,’ she said fiercely.

‘I couldn’t face the thought …’ He looked around wildly so that his eyes didn’t rest for too long on her dirty, unmoving, bare feet.

‘Yeah, well, fancy that. Me neither.’

‘Come on, you two,’ Nel said. ‘Let’s move through this already. Craig, want a drink?’

‘Nah, I uh, was just popping in to invite … invite you round to my place on Saturday week. I’m having a party. Be great if you came,’ he said to Lucy, and she couldn’t help but notice how his eyes were fearful. ‘You, uh, look good, Lucy. Oh shit. Listen, come if you like, and Nel, you come too. I’ll be going,’ he said. He turned around. ‘See ya!’

His back was broad and hard beneath the flimsy cotton of his blue t-shirt. He plunged his hands into his pockets and his head hung forward, as if in defeat. Lucy didn’t realise that she was holding the arms of her wheelchair so tightly that her fingers were in a cramp. Then he was crunching along the gravel back to his truck and Lucy gave Nel a look of dark thunder.

‘What?’ said Nel.

‘Nothing. It’s nauseating, that’s what. Not a squeak from him all this time, and then he rocks up because YOU tell him to, oozing pity and … and guilt and obligation. Ugh, Nel. I know you meant well telling him stuff, but honestly …’

‘He still likes you, Lu.’

‘No he doesn’t.’

‘And you like him still.’

‘I do not!’

‘Sure.’

‘Nel, I’d rather be a stuffed kangaroo than go anywhere near him again. Now, which cabin d’you want? We need to grab it before Dad gets back with the guests so we can make sure they don’t take that one?’

Lucy Wright, sixteen and a paraplegic after a recent car accident that took her mother's life, lives in Queensland on a 10,000 acre farm with her father. When Lucy investigates strange lights over the creek at the bottom of the property, she discovers a mystery that links the lights to the science of cymatics and Scotland’s ancient Rosslyn Chapel.

But beyond the chapel is an even larger mystery. One that links the music the chapel contains to Norway’s mysterious Hessdalen lights, and beyond that to Saturn and to the stars. Lucy’s discoveries catapult her into a parallel universe connected to our own by means of resonance and sound, where a newly emerging world trembles on the edge of disaster. As realities divide, her mission in this new world is revealed and she finds herself part of a love story that will span the galaxy.

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Genre - Young Adult SF

Rating - PG

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@JoshVanBrakle's Thoughts on The Query Blues: Turn Rejection into Growth #Fantasy #WriteTip

You’ve put your heart into writing your first novel: years of your life, uncounted long nights, and even more uncounted tears. Finally, you’re ready. You put together a brilliant, personalized query letter and send it to an agent. Days pass, then weeks. Nothing. Not even a form response.

What a cold, cold thing to do to a writer. You’ve written a masterpiece, and some schmuck in New York won’t even return your email. I know that feeling. My first novel, The Wings of Dragons, was rejected by not one, not ten, but over fifty agents. Most never replied at all. A few wrote me that they really liked my book, but they weren’t confident they could sell it to an editor “in this market.”

Every one of those rejections hit me hard. They made me feel like all the work I’d put in – over two years – was wasted.

Somewhere in the middle of all those rejections, though, I had my epiphany. I could see the rejections as an annoyance, as some suit in some distant agency not giving my book its due, or I could recognize them for what they were: opportunities to improve. These agents, whose job it is to sell books, were telling me something valuable. “Do you want to sell books? Then go back and spruce up this manuscript.”

So that’s what I did. I studied what those agents were looking for: fast-paced plots, a beginning few chapters that screamed “Keep reading me!”, and above all, sympathetic, multi-layered characters. Agents look for these traits, because they’re what make a book stand out. With that knowledge in hand, I knew where to focus my revisions.

In the end, no agent picked me up. I had no credentials, and my only publishing credits were a couple scientific journal articles, hardly gripping reads. No one would take a chance on me, so I took a chance on me and indie published. It’s paid off; my book became a #1 best-seller in its category on Amazon. Even so, I don’t laugh at the agents who rejected my work. I thank them. They were right to reject it. It wasn’t finished yet. If it had been published, or if I’d indie published without trying the traditional route first, I would have been unsatisfied with the result. I would have known I could have written a better book. A big part of why my book succeeded as an indie is because I tried the traditional approach first, and then I used what I learned to make my novel the best I could write at that point in my life.

It’s easy to let rejection convince you that your work is garbage, or worse, that your work is awesome and agents are too stupid to see it. Instead, see rejection as someone in the industry who knows a lot about what sells giving you free advice on how to make your book even better. Kick your ego to the curb and use that advice to grow as an author.

From fantasy author Josh VanBrakle comes an epic new trilogy of friendship, betrayal, and explosive magic. Lefthanded teenager Iren Saitosan must uncover a forgotten history, confront monsters inspired by Japanese mythology, and master a serpentine dragon imprisoned inside a katana to stop a revenge one thousand years in the making.

Lodian culture declares lefthanded people dangerous and devil-spawned, and for Iren, the kingdom’s only known Left, that’s meant a life of social isolation. To pass the time and get a little attention, he plays pranks on the residents of Haldessa Castle. It’s harmless fun, until one of his stunts nearly kills Lodia’s charismatic heir to the throne. Now to avoid execution for his crime, Iren must join a covert team and assassinate a bandit lord. It’s a suicide mission, and Iren’s chances aren’t helped when he learns that his new katana contains a dragon’s spirit, one with a magic so powerful it can sink continents and transform Iren into a raging beast.

Adding to his problems, someone on Iren’s team is plotting treason. When a former ally launches a brutal plan to avenge the Lefts, Iren finds himself trapped between competing loyalties. He needs to figure out who – and how – to trust, and the fates of two nations depend on his choice.

“A fast-paced adventure…led by a compelling cast of characters. Josh VanBrakle keeps the mysteries going.” - ForeWord Reviews

Buy @ Amazon & Smashwords

Genre – YA epic fantasy

Rating – PG-13

Connect with Josh VanBrakle on Twitter

Website www.joshvanbrakle.com

Applying Memories To Writing with @PMPillon #SciFi #WriteTip #AmReading

Our writing relies on our perceptions, leading us down a bright or dark path if that’s how we see the world but and are infinite in variety. For instance in Dostoyevsky’s case appreciating and writing about appalling privation because he himself experienced it as a starving writer and Solzhenitsyn also as a state prisoner. Who can fail to be moved by the young man’s utter destitution in Crime And Punishment, or the Gulag convict fussing over his boots without which he would be a dead man walking?

However, there are also cases of a writer’s life being a stark contrast from her or his writing, such as Guy de Maupassant who wrote beautifully and auspiciously even as he lived a life of depression and ultimately wrote as his epitaph: “I have coveted everything and taken pleasure in nothing.” 

We are a sum of our parts and at the same time we are a continuum, experiencing myriad states of life most often without even realizing it, with all aspects such as memories morphing into differing levels of appreciation. We forget most events and remember only a fraction, and we sometimes wish the two would transpose and we could forget that pedestrian remark dad made and instead remember something he said about mom when she was ill. If every single memory is still somewhere in our brain, until and unless a method for total recall is discovered we are forced to play with the cards we’re dealt; trudging through life with limited recollections that we can mine for our writing. A week ago I had a dream that I recognized as being a basis for a entire book as my previous books have been, but within seconds I forgot it and it’s clearly gone for good.

If we’re writing about a man whose girl friend has left him or vice versa, it helps to have some memories under our belt about amorous relationships. Writing blind about events with which we have no experience can still work if we have learned about them from observation or stories we heard from others, but it’s more problematic because more care must be taken to attain plausibility.

And ultimately our writing style will likely be the decider, such as the case of William Faulkner who gave up trying to mimic or emulate others and just wrote in his own consciousness stream and prose based on his experiences that eventually earned him universal praise and a Nobel Prize for Literature.

His celestial companion was waiting for him

Precariously climbing a sea-side cliff near Big Sur, ten-year-old Joey Blake was as yet unaware that near his grasp was an object, so odd, mysterious and alien to earth that it would change his life forever and the lives of countless others in the next few astonishing days. Reaching up as far as he could for a handhold it was just there; it had subconsciously lured him, occupied his mind, and made him find it. It was like he was meant to see and discover this object of unimaginable power … the power to change reality.

Time travel and more

This young adult series of sci-fi fantasy novels begins with The Reality Master and continues through four other exciting and amazing stories about time travel and mysterious alien devices. Joey and the reader will face dangerous shadowy criminal organizations, agents of the NSA, bizarre travelers from other times and even renegade California bikers and scar-faced walking dead.

- Vol 1 The Reality Master
- Vol 2 Threat To The World
- Vol 3 Travel Beyond
- Vol 4 Missions Through Time
- Vol 5 The Return Home

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Genre – Science fiction, Fantasy, Young adult

Rating – G

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Peter Simmons and the Vessel of Time by @RamzArtso #YA #SciFi #AmReading

Peter - Chapter 4

Portland, Oregon

October 22nd

Afternoon Hours

I sauntered out of the school building with my friends in tow and pulled on a thickly woven hat to cover my fluffy flaxen hair, which was bound to be frolic even in the mildest of breezes. I took a deep breath and scrutinized my immediate surroundings, noticing an armada of clouds scudding across the sky. It was a rather blustery day. The shrewd, trilling wind had all but divested the converging trees off their multicolored leaves, pasting them on the glossy asphalt and graffiti adorned walls across the road. My spirits were quickly heightened by this observation, and I suddenly felt rejuvenated after a long and taxing day at school. I didn’t know why, but the afternoon’s indolent weather appealed to me very much. I found it to be a congenial environment. For unexplainable reasons, I felt like I was caught amidst a fairytale. It was this eerie feeling which came and went on a whim. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Perhaps it was triggered by the subconscious mind brushing against a collage of subliminal memories, which stopped resurfacing partway through the process.

Anyhow, there I was, enjoying the warm and soporific touch of the autumn sun on my face, engaging in introspective thoughts of adolescent nature when Max Cornwell, a close, meddlesome friend of mine, called me from my rhapsodic dream with a sharp nudge in the ribs.

‘Hey, man! You daydreaming?’

I closed my eyes; feeling a little peeved, took a long drag of the wakening fresh air and gave him a negative response by shaking my head.

‘Feel sick or something?’ he persisted.

I wished he would stop harping on me, but it looked like Max had no intention of letting me enjoy my moment of glee, so I withdrew by tartly saying, ‘No, I’m all right.’

‘Hey, check this out,’ said George Whitmore,–who was another pal of mine–wedging himself between me and Max. He held a folded twenty dollar bill in his hand, and his ecstatic facial expression suggested that he had just chanced upon the find by sheer luck.

‘Is that yours?’ I asked, knowing very well that it wasn’t.

‘No, I found it on the floor of the auditorium. Just seconds before the last period ended.’

‘Then perhaps you should report your discovery to the lost and found. I’m sure they’ll know what to do with it there.’

‘Yeah, right. That’s exactly what I’m going to do,’ he said, snorting derisively. He then added in a somewhat defensive tone, as if trying to convince himself more than anyone else, ‘I found it, so it’s mine–right?’

I considered pointing out that his intentions were tantamount to theft, but shrugged it off instead, and followed the wrought-iron fence verging the school grounds before exiting by the small postern. I was in no mood for an argument, feeling too tired to do anything other than run a bath and soak in it. Therefore, I expunged the matter from my mind, bid goodbye to both George and Max and plunged into the small gathering of trees and brush which we, the kids, had dubbed the Mini Forest. It was seldom traveled by anyone, but we called it that because of its size, which was way too small to be an actual forest, and a trifle too large to be called otherwise.

I was whistling a merry tune, and wending my way home with a spring in my step, when my ears abruptly pulled back in fright. All of a sudden, I couldn’t help but feel as if I was being watched. But that wasn’t all. I felt like someone was trying to look inside of me. Right into me. As if they were rummaging in my soul, searching its every nook and cranny, trying to fish up my deepest fears and darkest secrets. It was equivalent to being stripped naked in front of a large audience. Steeling myself for something ugly, I felt the first stirrings of unease.

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Genre – Young-adult, Action and Adventure, Coming of Age, Sci-fi

Rating – PG-13

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Website http://ramzartso.blogspot.com/

RISING TIDE: Dark Innocence by Claudette Melanson @Bella623 #YA #Paranormal #AmReading

And today, of course, the sun was shining miserably on my head, as I quickly headed for the oak-tree shaded bus stop.  In my rush to get out of the house, I’d forgotten to put on my dark sunglasses, but I dug them out of my pack now, twisting around awkwardly as I made my way into the comforting shadows.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Katie Parker coming out of her house across the street.

“Great,” I muttered under my breath.  Placed beside Katie’s blonde, tanned perfection, I looked all the more irregular.  I tried to put on a happy face anyway and be sociable, a definite struggle for me.

“Hi Katie,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.  I refused to ever say ‘good morning,’ as I hated mornings and saw nothing good about them whatsoever.  I didn’t expect much in the way of a reply.  Katie, annoyingly perky in her cheerleading uniform, was miles away from my end of the social spectrum.  So, I was shocked when she turned her bright blue eyes on me dazzlingly, and spoke to me in a way she never had before this day.

“Hi Maura!”  She was so chipper, it was stifling.  “Beautiful morning isn’t it?”

I wondered briefly what she would say if I shot back:  “Actually, I like the rain,” like I was thinking.  I thought better of it and replied, “Sure is.”

“Aren’t you excited about prom?” she bubbled.

Oh, so that was it.  She was overexcited about prom and probably just needed an outlet for venting all her pent up enthusiasm.  Prom was in a few weeks and no one had asked me, not that I really wanted to go.  The thought of my pale shoulders exposed in some fancy dress made me cringe.  I tugged at the edge of one of my long sleeves unconsciously in response.

CHOSEN AS ONE OF 400 FOR THE SECOND ROUND OF THE AMAZON BREAKTHROUGH NOVEL AWARD FOR 2014!!!

ARE YOU A FAN OF VAMPIRE ROMANCE?

Rising Tide will sink it’s teeth into you, keeping you awake into the wee hours of the night

Maura’s life just can’t get any worse…or can it?

Isolated and sheltered by her lonely mother, Maura’s never been the best at making friends. Unusually pale with a disease-like aversion to the sun, she seems to drive her classmates away, but why?

Even her own father deserted her, and her mother, before Maura was born. Bizarre physical changes her mother seems hell bent on ignoring, drive Maura to fear for her own life. And her luck just seems to get worse.

Life is about to become even more bewildering when her mother’s abrupt…and unexplained…decision to move a country away sets off a chain of events that will change Maura forever. A cruel prank turned deadly, the discovery of love and friendship….and its loss, as well as a web of her own mother’s lies, become obstacles in Maura’s desperate search for a truth she was never prepared to uncover.

Featured on one of the most popular health blogs on the internet as a giveaway!

Be sure to check out the blog on Maria Mind Body Health to win a free copy today! Go to Mariamindbodyhealth.com and check out the blog Chicken “Wild Rice” Soup for your chance to win!

Offered as a giveaway on Goodreads!

Head over to Goodreads for a chance to score a free copy today!

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Genre – YA Paranormal Romance

Rating – PG

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Website http://claudettemelanson.wix.com/author

J R Tague Shares Her Thoughts on Why Book Covers are So Important #WriteTip #BookMarketing

We all know the old adage about how you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, right? Riiiiight. And we also shouldn’t eat an entire bag of potato chips in one sitting, or stay up until 2am on a weeknight watching I ROBOT on TV for the hundredth time. But we still totally do. It can’t just be me, can it? So to that end, why live in denial? Why don’t we just embrace the fact? After all, there’s another saying: a picture’s worth a thousand words. I am just FULL of these today.

See, reading is all about imagination. A good book gives you just enough detail to get you started on imagining the world in which it takes place. The rest is up to the reader. That’s part of the pleasure. And also part of the reason why it’s so very hard to read when you’re tired. Because reading engages your brain. You combine the author’s words with your own visuals to create a beautiful collaboration born of your combined imaginations. Or, I dunno. Maybe you’re not good at imagining and it looks more like a crappy stick-figure land. I don’t know your life. But I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.

What I’m saying is, to get to that point in a book it takes some time. And most human beings are famously, annoyingly short on time. We’ve got chips to eat, Will Smith movies to watch. We ain’t got time to bleed...er, to waste on imaginary lands we’re not interested in. Therefore, we‘re always looking for shortcuts. We want some quick indication of whether a book is worth investing our time in or not.

And that is where book covers come in.

Book covers aren’t always an accurate representation of the story within. BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE? How great would that be? If I could pick up a book and immediately see dinosaurs with laser guns and exploding volcanos and hot-but-sensitive time traveler heroes riding said dinosaurs (any dude worth his salt would befriend dinosaurs instead of fighting them) and fighting robots, and I could know that’s actually what I’d find inside, I’d be all “sign me up!” That sale would be completed before it even started. (Somebody please write that book.)

However, if I found that book in a store today, I’d have to be cautious about my excitement. I’ve been burned too many times before, see. There are so many exciting covers out there that mask boring stories. And the reverse is true too. Anyone read Orson Scott Card’s Alvin Maker series? I got into it because I loved ENDER’S GAME and a friend suggested it to me. Also, the cover of the first book isn’t too awful. But by the time you get to HEARTFIRE, all bets are off. It looks like a cheesy dime store romance novel. Not an awesome alternate history fantasy adventure novel. I mean, yeah. The title doesn’t help much. But it’s the picture that makes it especially embarrassing.

Expectation is important in novels. You have to set up your reader with certain expectations…and then deliver on them. That’s how you keep readers happy. And the cover art for your book is the beginning of that. It needs to reflect what’s inside. It needs to capture the essence of your story. It needs to represent those thousand words, and hopefully more. 

Because if it doesn’t, you’re going to have at least one sad, disappointed reader with a new laser dino covered door prop.

Max McKay gets a second chance at life when, after a bizarre accident on his sixteenth birthday, he is reanimated as a new breed of thinking, feeling zombie. To secure a spot for his eternal soul, Max must use his video game prowess as well as the guidance of Steve the Death God to make friends and grow up. 

As if all that weren’t hard enough, Max discovers that he’s not the only zombie in town. As he enlists the help of his new friends, Adam and Penny, to solve the mystery of their un-dead classmate, Max discovers that he must level up his life experience in order to survive the trials and terrors of the upcoming zombie apocalypse. And, even worse, high school.

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Genre – YA

Rating – PG

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Connect with J R Tague on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://jrtague.wordpress.com/

The Wings of Dragons (The Dragoon Saga, Book 1) by Josh VanBrakle #Fantasy #YA #BookClub

Iren’s will steeled. Minawë needed to get to Ziorsecth. He couldn’t surrender. With nothing left but a desire not to let down this woman who genuinely believed in him, Iren hauled the unconscious Kodama onto his back. He tried drawing on magic to restore some of his stamina, but he couldn’t feel it at all.

The storm crashed with more intensive fervor, as though nature itself wanted to keep him from accomplishing his goal. Nevertheless he marched on a slow, inexorable trek west.

He didn’t know if he was awake or dreaming. He wasn’t even certain he was still alive. Minawë’s body pressed against his, limp and breathless. With her on his back, her face rested on his shoulder. Even in this state, appearing as old as Rondel had, she still looked more beautiful than anyone he’d ever known. Though her eyes were shut, he recalled their emerald hue like two tiny forests, strong and frail at the same time.

He leaned his head against hers and rubbed her fine hair, undamaged despite her many ordeals. Its vibrant green, however, had vanished. All the hair he could see was white. Her lips, too, had lost their fullness and luster. Only now, staring at her lifeless visage, did he realize how much, in just a few days, he’d come to love her. He blamed himself for her misfortunes. If only he’d ridden faster, he might have saved her. If they could have stayed in Akaku just a few more hours, perhaps that would have given her the time she needed.

Her skin felt cold. It was over; he had failed. Reluctantly, he let her body fall.

As her face drifted from view, he started. He thought he’d seen a movement in her lips, or perhaps a shred of color in her cheeks. He pulled her tightly to him again, but she gave him no further sign, if indeed she’d given him one in the first place. Nevertheless, that wisp of life, real or imagined, motivated him. Despite the pouring rain, despite the dead weight of her body on his back, and despite his own exhaustion, he would continue until the end.

He tripped often, slipping in the ubiquitous mud of this vile place. Several times he stumbled not from the wet ground but from his own weakness. In desperation, he set down Minawë, then discarded his shirt, cloak, and even the sheath to the Muryozaki. His load that tiny bit lighter, he hefted Minawë onto his back and continued trudging.

As Iren became certain he could not take another step, he finally saw, at the limits of his vision, a line of trees. Hope came to him at last. It was the forest! It must be, for in a few more moments he would surely die. With the last of his strength he forced himself under the shield of its canopy. Beneath its boughs he gently set the lifeless woman he’d sacrificed himself for on the ground. His task completed, he collapsed amid the leaves and surrendered to the void.

From fantasy author Josh VanBrakle comes an epic new trilogy of friendship, betrayal, and explosive magic. Lefthanded teenager Iren Saitosan must uncover a forgotten history, confront monsters inspired by Japanese mythology, and master a serpentine dragon imprisoned inside a katana to stop a revenge one thousand years in the making.

Lodian culture declares lefthanded people dangerous and devil-spawned, and for Iren, the kingdom's only known Left, that's meant a life of social isolation. To pass the time and get a little attention, he plays pranks on the residents of Haldessa Castle. It's harmless fun, until one of his stunts nearly kills Lodia's charismatic heir to the throne. Now to avoid execution for his crime, Iren must join a covert team and assassinate a bandit lord. It's a suicide mission, and Iren's chances aren't helped when he learns that his new katana contains a dragon's spirit, one with a magic so powerful it can sink continents and transform Iren into a raging beast.

Adding to his problems, someone on Iren's team is plotting treason. When a former ally launches a brutal plan to avenge the Lefts, Iren finds himself trapped between competing loyalties. He needs to figure out who - and how - to trust, and the fates of two nations depend on his choice.

"A fast-paced adventure...led by a compelling cast of characters. Josh VanBrakle keeps the mysteries going." - ForeWord Reviews

Buy @ Amazon & Smashwords

Genre – YA epic fantasy

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author

Connect with Josh VanBrakle on Twitter

Website www.joshvanbrakle.com

What Lies Inside by J.L. Myers @BloodBoundJLM #Paranormal #Romance #YA

CHAPTER ONE

My mind screamed for me to move. To fight the monster who trapped me with its arms. But my body remained paralyzed, a prisoner of flesh and bone. It wasn’t fear. I knew that much. Inside I was striking out with limbs, nails, and teeth. But any connection to actual movement was lost. My whole body felt like it was filled with cement.

Parted lips closed in on my neck. My eyes darted around, desperate to find a way out of this. Darkness stretched beyond the waning light of a naked bulb. There was a single door, then nothing but damp stone and shadow. The stink of death and decay hung thick in the air. Horror seeped through my veins.

There was nothing I could do. No way to stop this. No way to save my life.

The sound of labored breath rasped. Not my own. Not this monster’s. In the shadows it was impossible to see where it came from. Was someone watching? Fear snaked through my soul. The fear wasn’t for my own life, not really. I was afraid for someone else. But who?

Any thoughts vanished as fangs punctured my flesh. A gasp escaped my lips.

Flames bloomed from the punctures, swarming across my skin. The monster clutched my body tighter and tighter with every sickening gulp.

As the flames began to dull, my internal screams and my drive to fight faded. Without the current of blood filling my veins, violent shivers took hold of my entire body.

My body was giving up.

With shallow contractions, my heart slowed. My mind wavered as my body began to fail. The crushing pain of imminent death faded. As my eyes fluttered shut, a memory of the boy I loved floated across the backs of my eyelids. I saw his dejected expression. I felt the moment he had crushed me against his body, covering my lips with his. Then I heard the words he had spoken for the very first time. “Amelia, I love you.”

An icy tear escaped my eye. Now he would never know the truth. Never know that my feelings for him were still as irrefutable and irrevocable as ever. Never know that I would give anything just to be in his arms and feel the warmth of his kiss one last time. The realization was more agonizing than knowing my fate now, more agonizing than any lingering pain.

I love you too. The memory faded, dissipating like a cloud of smoke.

The room began to blur and spin. Unable to blink, my eyes stared up at the dusty light bulb. Blood loss pressed in on me. I was so deathly cold. The edge of my vision turned black, light being eaten away by a stain like blotted ink. Then empty darkness took hold.

This is it, I thought. I’m dying.

~

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Genre – YA Paranormal Romance

Rating – PG-13+

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Connect with  Jessica Myers on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://bloodboundnovels.com

@EileenMaksym Says You Can't Judge A Book By Its Cover #AmReading #YA #Paranormal

You Can't Judge A Book By Its Cover, But We Do It Anyway

I was browsing Amazon's selection of free books for Kindle the other day, and it occurred to me that I wasn't looking at titles, or authors; I was looking at covers.  If a cover caught my eye – had an compelling image, interesting (and visible!) fonts, and aesthetically pleasing colors – then I might spend the split second it takes to read the title or author, and might be interested enough to read the blurb.  If the cover didn't spark that interest, though, I just moved on.  There are tons of free books on Amazon, after all.  I don't have time to read the blurbs on all of them.  A book with a bad or boring cover?  I don't waste my time.  And these are free books!  Imagine how much less patience I'd have if I was looking for books to spend my money on!

This demonstrates exactly how important a book cover is.  There's a quote from a character in Pulp Fiction (paraphrased, since, like the rest of the movie, it's gloriously profanity-laced) that a rat might taste like pumpkin pie, but he'll never know because he'll never put the thing in his mouth. A bad cover might contain a potential Pulitzer Prize winner, but no one is going to take the time to find out more about it, much less buy it.

Of course, the problem isn't just bad covers, it's also bland covers.  There's a ridiculous number of books out there (every time I walk into a book store I spend a moment just looking around in despair – I will never read all those books, and my own book is a drop in a vast ocean).  Why should anybody give yours the time of day?  Of course, the cover is hardly the be-all end-all of marketing.  Even so, the more compelling the cover is, the more likely people are to buy the book.

So, what makes a good cover?  I mentioned before that a good cover has a compelling image, interesting and visible fonts, and aesthetically pleasing colors.  Almost all of the bad covers I've seen fail in one or more of these categories.  They have a boring, confusing, or even off-putting image (a romance novel with a scantily-clad woman in an awkward pose photoshopped badly over a city skyline isn't doing itself any favors).  They have fonts that are too plain, or, conversely, ridiculously and illegibly ornate.  The fonts may also be too small, or the colors might make them vanish into the background.  Or the cover's colors might be truly horrible, or clash so badly that you want to take them to court for assaulting your eyes.

But all that is what makes a bad cover.  A cover can avoid those pitfalls, but still be bland.  So what makes a cover that will snag readers and make them look at a blurb?  That's a little harder to know, and it relies a lot on personal taste.  Looking at the covers of the free Kindle books, one of the main things that catches my eye is simplicity.  A cover that has a bunch going on takes more than a second to parse, and more often than not I'm just going to skip it.  A romance novel that has a bunch of people on it...no.  One couple...better.  A close-up of a well-muscled chest?  Oh yes, let me see what that one's about!

Try it sometime!  Go to Amazon, search “free books on Kindle” and scan the covers.  Which books do you decide to learn more about?  Ten to one, they'll be the ones with the covers that “pop.”

Tara Martin – exceptionally accomplished neurobiology major with a troubled past. Steven Trent – confident political science major with an irresistible attraction to Tara. Paul Stratton – history major who is able to hear spirits. Together, they make up the Society for Paranormal Researchers at their prestigious New England University. When they’re not in class or writing papers, the three friends are chasing their passion….ghosts.

When the group learns of a local retired couple trying to sell a house they claim is haunted, they decide to investigate. As the clues unfold, a familiar spirit interrupts their investigation and Tara finds her life in danger. Can her friends save her before it’s too late?

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Genre – YA paranormal, NA paranormal

Rating – PG-13

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