Archive for August, 2018

The Seer


The Seer by J. Risk

Different. Weird. Unwanted. Crazy. Afraid.

That’s been the story of Crissy’s life.

A life spent never quite knowing why she has these visions in her head.

And just why she’s so afraid.

Finding herself important and accepted for the first time in her life, the workings of this other realm are confusing, but feel familiar. She’s seen it before, and that feeling may just be home.

Now in a place where she’s understood and loved, Crissy’s visions may just help to tip the balance in the fight between good and evil.

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Author’s Bio

Risk is a pseudonym used by Jacqueline Paige

I wanted to write a story that would fit into new adult levels as well as adult. Something that was serious with fun elements–paranormal / fantasy that everyone could read and enjoy.

I’ve decided to use J. Risk as the pen name for this to separate this series from my other writing which is definitely adult reading material.

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My Review

5 Stars

Crissy has visions constantly. Because of this she has not had the best of childhoods but has found a place for herself and she can help her friends Daxx. She has been searching for Emil. The long lost brother, she has also seen Alona. Crissy tries to help her one night at a night club and ends up blacked out after being over loaded. She wakes to find a huge man standing over her, Victor.

Victor is the Justice, a hard hearted man that has been alone punishing people for many years. But there is something about Crissy that has him opening his heart and hoping his verse of the prophecy could come true. But things come up to make their time together strained and they still have to find Alona and Emil and keep the kingdom from invaders.

I loved this book. Crissy is a little ball of high energy that seems crazier than help. Granted I probably would be too is I had a constant river of images going through my mind too. Victor is you typical strong and locked of man and I loved watching him fall in love with Crissy. They do have some challenges that broke my heart for them. And thank goodness Crssy is there, now it seems they have an edge against Marcus.

I really enjoyed The Huntress but I have to say The Seer was even better. There was an abrupt ending which makes me want to read the next book right away. I can’t wait to see what is going to happen next in the Alterealm.

I received a complimentary copy of this book. I voluntarily chose to post an honest review.

I would like to thank the author for the opportunity to read and share this book.


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Supernatural Slayer


Supernatural Slayer (Supernatural Slayer – 1) by Devyn Jayse

Some people call me an assassin, personally, I prefer the term bounty hunter.

In a world where magic is hidden from the general population, I’m hired to keep our secrets safe and take care of rogues by whatever means necessary.

When I accidentally targeted the wrong person, the Supernatural Bureau of Investigation offered me a deal — go to jail or work for them. Their first official request was to locate a vampire I thought I killed years ago.  My ex-boyfriend. Now I’m ordered to deliver him to them without harming a hair on his gorgeous head.

That was going to be a problem. By the time I found him, he was going to wish he had stayed dead.

Supernatural Slayer is an action-packed urban fantasy romp through Barcelona with an assorted cast of witches, vampires, and shifters. It may also feature a snarky troll or two.

“No human beings were harmed in the writing of this book — only supernaturals.”

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 Devyn Jayse

Author’s Bio

Devyn Jayse is the author of the Magic Runes and Dare Valari series. She loves writing fun fantasy novels featuring feisty heroines in a magical setting.

Devyn enjoys being a global nomad and is always traveling the world due to ever-present wanderlust. She has lived in many countries around the globe and is currently based in the Middle East.

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My Review

5 stars

Aisha is a paranormal bounty hunter/assassin. She is half witch and half something else never knowing what her father really was but his blood has given her more power and speed than most witches. She is on an assignment and kills the wrong person. Of course the Supernatural Bureau of Investigation (SBI) catches her. But they offer her an alternative to going to prison, work for them. Although Aisha doesn’t want to work for the most hate group but doesn’t want to go to prison either. So she accepts the offer and is given the task of bringing in a man she knows she killed years earlier, her ex-boyfriend.

This story takes place in Barcelona and this is a fresh location for me. Aisha is a strong, take no bull, woman that loves bounty hunting and is a great assassin. She does have one problem, although the bounties would like them brought in alive she has a hard time with this. Which makes bringing in her ex-boyfriend alive, well undead, you can see how she really wants to put him in the ground permanently.

This is the first book from Devyn Jayse but I have to say it will not be my last. It was an amazing thrill ride with a great lead character, a wonderful location/world, and a variety of paranormal creatures. I can’t wait to read the second book of this series and to catch up on Devyn’s other series.

I received a complimentary copy of this book. I voluntarily chose to read and post an honest review.

I would like to thank the Author for the opportunity to read and share her book.

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Out of the Shadows


Out of the Shadows by Ana Stone

Lost memories and hard knocks of life have three people converging in a small town in North Carolina. They think it’s change, but it’s a lot more. It’s a time of love and hate, fear and danger. A time of self-discovery and self-doubt. They’ll find themselves merging on the same path – a path that leads to a truth that will change everything.

If they survive.

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Author’s Bio

Ana Stone also writes as Ciana Stone.

Ciana Stone has been reading since the age of three, and wrote her first story at age five. Since then she enjoyed writing as a solitary form of entertainment, before coming out of the closet to share her stories with others. She holds several post graduate degrees and has often been referred to as a professional student. Her latest fields of interest are quantum mechanics and Taoism. When she is not writing (or studying) she enjoys painting (canvas, not walls), sculpting, running, hiking and yoga. She lives with her longtime lover in several locations in the United States.

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My Review

5 stars

This story revolves around Zeke Justice, Roxy Quinn, and West Franklin. Zeke is part of a local motorcycle gang the Renegades in Harmony. The only way out is to die or go into the military so Zeke heads off to the military. But when he is wounded and off to a desk job he returns to Harmony and the gang. Roxy knows about motorcycles gangs when she finds herself being abused by a rival gang. She goes into the military to escape but is wounded and finds herself back in Harmony.

Roxy finds herself in the middle of a gang shoot out then wakes to find Zeke. There is a spark of a memory between the two of them but they can’t seem to place it. Then enters West, he works for the NCS and is working to bring down the Renegades. Of course Roxy and West hit it off leading to a love triangle.

This is a great story that will keep you guessing at what is really going on. Of course there is lots of action and danger, this is a book about a motorcycle gang. Of course you have missing memories and questionable pasts. Who is the real bad guy and good guy? And, of course, who will Roxy finally pick.

This is a great read and one that will keep you entertained until the end. Although I’m not a fan of love triangles I will say this one is well written. I really liked Out of the Shadows and can’t wait for more of the Renegades.

I received a complimentary copy of this book. I voluntarily chose to read and post an honest review.

I would like to thank Ari at Candid Book Reviews for the opportunity to read and share this book.

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The Chairman’s Toy

The Chairman’s Toys

by Graham Reed

on Tour August 1-31, 2018


The Chairman's Toys by Graham Reed

Vancouver, British Columbia – land of psychotically expensive real estate, high-grade cannabis, and Jake Constable. A man adrift.

After Jake quits the drug business, his realtor/ex-wife, Nina, gets him a job as a house sitter for her wealthy clients. Jake celebrates by throwing a party in the mansion he was hired to look after. Unfortunately, the guest list gets out of hand, leaving Jake to contend with a hallucinogenic-vitamin-dispensing yogi, a dead guy in the bathroom, and The Norwegian – a criminal force of nature with a grudge against Jake.

When the owner of the multimillion-dollar crime scene returns home prematurely, only Jake’s inadvertent discovery of the man’s politically incorrect business history saves him from having to clean up after the party. But he still has to come clean with his ex-wife. The situation threatens to turn into an international incident when Nina’s power broker uncle and a pair of secret agents from China show up to turn the screws on Jake. Soon after that his friends start disappearing. With the Chinese government leaning on him and The Norwegian out to settle an old score, Jake comes up with a desperate plan to dupe the secret agents, save his friends, and (why not?) solve the murder.


Editorial Reviews

“…takes the reader on a fast, furious, and often hilarious tour. Watching him zigzag through the twisting plot is pure pleasure.” – Publisher’s Weekly

“Reed’s lively mystery debut may be overloaded with colorful characters and tricky subplots, but too much of a good thing is still a good thing.” – Kirkus Reviews

“…definitely belongs on your short list of amiable stoner sleuths, along with Bart Schneider’s Augie Boyer and Hal Ackerman’s Harry Stein. The dark-comedy aspect of this debut will also appeal to fans of Chris Knopf, David Freed, and Tim Cockey.” – Booklist


Book Details

Genre: Crime Fiction, Mystery, Humor
Published by: Poisoned Pen Press
Publication Date: July 3, 2018
Number of Pages: 238
ISBN: 1464210055 (ISBN13: 9781464210051)
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | IndieBound


Read an excerpt

I was just starting to enjoy the party when The Norwegian came out of the bathroom and ruined everything.

At the time, I was dancing with a hyperkinetic yoga enthusiast named Windy. Or possibly Mindy. All attempts at verbal communication were being swallowed up by the blizzard of techno coming out of the forty thousand dollar stereo system. Which was fine by me since I didn’t imagine Windy-Mindy and I had all that much to talk about anyway.

She looked about a decade younger than me — clocking in somewhere south of thirty — and it was manifestly evident that her lifestyle choices were largely antagonistic to my own. Shrink-wrapped in Lululemon, Windy-Mindy radiated health and vigor as she bounced around in fuchsia Nikes performing an ode to the benefits of healthy living expressed through the medium of interpretive dance.

Exhausted by the spectacle, I took a breather and another belt of Woodford Reserve. In an attempt to bridge the cultural divide I waggled the bottle at Windy-Mindy, inquiring with my eyebrows. Her brow furrowed but the corners of her mouth did curl up slightly — one patronizing, the other amused. Or so the bourbon whispered to me.

It may have been correct because she countered by proffering her own bottle — the blue-tinted plastic kind that hikers and college students liked to clip to their backpacks. In her other hand were two small white tablets, which I lip-read to be Vitamin C.

I shrugged and swallowed.

The contents of the bottle turned out to be wheatgrass and champagne, a combination that tasted even worse than it sounded. I forgave Windy-Mindy when the vitamins started coming on about twenty minutes later. Every cell in my body began sending my brain a jubilant message of thanks and goodwill, as well as suggesting, by the way, that they wouldn’t mind getting to know every cell in Windy-Mindy’s body if the opportunity should arise.

This wasn’t my usual kind of trip and it made me suspect two things: (1) The tablets probably weren’t Vitamin C and (2) if Windy-Mindy was on the same ride, it might explain her unlikely but undeniable interest in me.

Another possibility was that she had heard I was Jake Constable, a.k.a. the host of the party. From there she might have leapt to the not-unreasonable conclusion that the twenty million dollar mansion in which the festivities were taking place was also mine. Which was true, in a very temporary but excruciatingly legal sense.

The actual owner of the house, Mickey Wu, had hired me to look after it while he was out of town. For most of the evening, my flagrant abuse of this responsibility had precluded me from enjoying the party. Which was too bad since it was turning into a real killer.

The place was mobbed with people, an undeniable relief in those early evening “will it happen?” moments, but now a source of concern. I took it as a matter of faith that the front door was still on its hinges as I hadn’t seen it close in hours. On the mezzanine, a velour-clad DJ was hunched over a laptop and two turntables, conjuring up humongous bass beats and mixing them with everything from sirens to symphonies. The crowd was loving it, up and moving on every available horizontal surface including the dining room table, much to the annoyance of the people clustered around it hoovering up lines of white powder.

When an albino wearing a lime green speedo and an impish grin threaded his way through the crowd on a Vespa I found myself on the verge of questioning whether the party had been such a brilliant idea after all. He was travelling at a reasonable speed and using his horn judiciously but I still couldn’t shake that harbinger-of-ill-fate feeling.

At least until I discovered Windy-Mindy and her narcotic vitamins. After that, I was blissfully surfing the moment, my worries gone and my eyes inexorably drawn to her endless curves as they took on a cotton candy glow. I frowned and shook my head, but the effect persisted.

I spent long, increasingly paranoid moments pondering whether an admixture of wheatgrass and champagne could give bourbon hallucinogenic properties until I noticed the sun winking at me from behind the skyscrapers of downtown Vancouver through the window behind her. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to banish this unwelcome party crasher. When I opened them, the sun was eclipsed by another — The Norwegian.

My first impulse was to go over and hug him, but I knew that was only Windy-Mindy’s vitamins messing with my amygdala. My second impulse was to run.

It had been almost three years since I had seen my former business partner, and he hadn’t changed a bit. The ornate black leather trench coat and vaguely Druidic hairstyle would have been comical on a smaller man less prone to violence. As he loomed over the crowd I tried to disappear within it. We hadn’t parted on the best of terms.

I had brought him in on a deal that had started as a hobby for me, a way to use the inheritance I received from my grandfather — a couple acres of land on Hornby Island and a green thumb. Granddad grew prize-winning heirloom tomatoes there. People loved his tomatoes. I preferred marijuana. As did my friends, and their friends, and so on.

When I terminated our partnership, The Norwegian kept three hundred thousand dollars of my money and I kept my kneecaps, which seemed like a fair distribution of assets at the time. Deprived of “Granddad’s Ganja”, The Norwegian moved into harder drugs and I moved into a converted loft in a post-industrial neighbourhood in East Vancouver. I spent money, threw parties, started dating my real estate agent, wrote a screenplay, shredded a screenplay, married my real estate agent, spent the last of my money, got divorced by my real estate agent, became mildly depressed, and began perusing community college course catalogs. I was a phone call away from signing up for a denturist training program when my ex-wife/realtor lined me up with house sitting gigs for her wealthy clients.

Clients like Mickey Wu, in whose house The Norwegian was now standing. He was nonplussed when he spotted me. Then his face lit up with the expression of affected innocence that always accompanied his most heinous acts.

My pocket vibrated. I dug out my phone to find a text from Richard.

there’s a dead guy in the bathroom 😦

I stared at the phone. Then I stared across the room at the bathroom door. The Norwegian was no longer standing in front of it. He had been replaced by Richard, who was staring back at me with an expression of genuine innocence and barely controlled panic.


Excerpt from The Chairman’s Toys by Graham Reed. Copyright © 2018 by Graham Reed. Reproduced with permission from Graham Reed. All rights reserved.


Graham Reed

Author Bio

Graham Reed is an award-winning author of crime fiction who lives on a small island in the Salish Sea with is wife and two children.

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grahamreed.info & Goodreads


My Reivew

4 stars

Jake Constable used to grow and sell cannabis with a partner called the Norwegian in Vancouver. But he has decided to go legal and currently works housesitting for the rich clients of his ex-wife. But at the most recent house he decides to have a party that gets way out of hand. The client comes home early to discover the mess and a dead body in the bathroom.

But this is just the start of Jake’s troubles. His friends find themselves kidnapped, the Chinese government wants him, and the Norwegian is back and after him too. His ex-wife is pretty pissed too about the party. Jake is going to have to do some fast talking if he is going to save his friends and himself from this mess.

This is a great story will with lots of action, adventure, and mystery. Jake is trying to get away from the drugs but he just can’t seem to get his life in order. But he is kept on his toes with the Norwegian coming after him. It doesn’t help that the rich guy’s house that his party trashed is wanted by the Chinese government.

I really liked this book and think it was a great introduction to Jake Constable and Graham Reed’s writing. I was easily drawn in and although the book concluded well has left me wanting to read more from Reed.

I received a complimentary copy of this book. I voluntarily chose to read and post an honest review.

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This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Graham Reed. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card. The giveaway begins on August 1, 2018 and runs through September 1, 2018. Void where prohibited.

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Anodyne Eyes

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Sci-fi Mystery/Thriller
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Would you modify your daughter’s DNA to end war forever?
In the near future, a World Oil War leaves the Midwest in ruins, except for pristine GMO crops controlled by a monopoly, Ambrosia, and the Army, which savagely protects the crops from starving war survivors.
A genetic engineer, Rachel Anne Lane hates violence and war, and has protected her unusual 16-year-old daughter, Alexis, since birth. If Rachel modifies Alexis’s special DNA, she can end all wars forever.
But Alexis rebels against her mother, traveling to the desolate Midwest to help survivors. Her healing gaze cures Jeff Trotter, a PTSD-afflicted soldier who’s searching for his father, Dan Trotter. Alexis and Jeff fall in love, though he dislikes her reading his mind, fearing she will discover secrets.
Desperate for more oil, the Army will kill millions of Americans with lethal GMO foods Rachel mistakenly developed. They’ll use Jabril El Fahd, the worst kind of brutal, mutated terrorist, who wants revenge against Rachel for his years of torture.
Helped by CIA and Army friends, and computer geek, Dan Trotter, Rachel chases Jabril across a post-apocalyptic U.S., desperate to save Alexis, Jeff, and the U.S. But Jabril is always one step ahead.

Purchase Link


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Chapter 1
Jeff trudged along the highway, now a barren strip of cracked cement, reminding him of a book he’d read. Before. Before the world had changed. The book had a dad and a son and they pushed a shopping cart over the bleak, empty road. Jeff wasn’t a little kid, though. He wasn’t sure, but probably close to twenty. He had a pack instead of a shopping cart, a gun and an axe handle. Did he have a dad? Of course he did. But who and where?
Not here. He hadn’t seen a soul. Today. Though it was early May, he was thankful the parching Texas sun that had spotlighted him all day was fading. Twilight was near. Woods lined the road now instead of horse meadows, and mesquite trees being the only cover. He didn’t feel like a solitary ant on a sand hill. The woods held cover. That was good. And bad. Others could use that cover, too. He eyed the woods. They were probably waiting.
It had been four years since his first attempt at making this trip. Four years of not knowing who he was, why he was here, why he wanted to go north. Four years of living in cardboard boxes in the ruined city of Dallas, or north of the city, out in the bush, a haze of headaches, running, hiding. Survival mode.
The headaches usually bored deep in the middle of his brain and jumbled his thoughts. But lately they had been getting better. His thinking was more clear. He was ready. This time he would get there.
He did another one-eighty check, walking backwards then forward again. The spring-green of the trees beside the road reminded him of another place, but where? A doe and fawn grazed on shin-high grass to his right in the ten yards of clearing between the trees and the crumbling, gray-black highway. Violet-colored flowers bloomed in the clearing, thick. For the last few miles, and as far as he could see ahead, the trees grew close to each other and undergrowth stuffed any empty space so it seemed like a violet carpet ended at a wall of green.
His gun, an M4 MWS, Modular Weapon System, hung like a satchel on his right hip; the nylon web belt crossed over his left shoulder and through the butt of the rifle. He’d fashioned a thin belt of Velcro scrounged from a trash bin in Dallas and looped it around his right thigh and the gun. It helped steady the gun on his hip, ready in an instant, like a gunfighter of the Old West. The gun rattled as he walked.
The doe lifted her head at the rattle. He put his hand on the gun, trying to muffle it. Both deer bounded away like stones skipped on a river—jump, jump, jump, then into the green on the last skip. Gone. Had the deer actually been there? Another tickle of a distant place smoked through his mind. The vapor of memory disappeared as quickly and completely as the deer.
His camouflaged fatigues were torn on the right knee, threadbare on the other, but at least there had been enough clothes in the pack to last. Lucky to find underwear, though. Dallas had many abandoned Walmarts. The one off Arapahoe near the Tollway had been perfect. He’d slept under some trees in a country club golf course on dead grass, but not bumpy. In the morning, it had taken only five minutes to get to the vacant Walmart. There were a couple of new packages of Hanes, size 34-36, tighty-whities, six per pack in a shopping cart, sitting behind the counter at the sporting goods department. No other clothes there fit him, although he liked his military garb. He felt a little safer in it.
What he’d really wanted was ammo for his gun, or a knife. But all the ammo in every store was gone. And all the knives. Oh well. At least he’d have clean underwear on if he got into a car accident. Yeah right. Hadn’t seen a car in forever.
The gun weight on his right hip felt good, open for the world to see and fear. The M4 MWS was a great gun, had attachments for the M203 grenade launcher, rail and night vision system, all kept in the pack on his back. It was a great threat. Bad thing, though: He didn’t have one damn bullet or one damn grenade. A fake.
Was that all he was, a fake man walking on an unknown road to a place he couldn’t remember? Was he a man? Inside he knew, felt it deep. It ran through him like dirty water through a broken house in a hurricane. Though he still had boy feelings and boy thoughts, he knew. The memories robbed him of sleep in the early morning: the pounding of his M50, chopping through trees in that Louisiana bayou, and the black man falling from one tree, limp and dead; an Army poker buddy burning and screaming and flailing like a torched scarecrow after an IED hit his Humvee; a man firing an RPG, the smoke trail an arrow at his Humvee. Jumping. The explosion. Darkness. Yeah, he was a real man. If only the path had been different.
He shook his head and gripped the axe handle. Real, hard, nothing false about it: a fairly nice club—absent its axe head, though still good hickory stock—heavy, hard and easy to swing. Blood stained the end he’d had to use yesterday on dogs, feral, crazy mutts that attacked him. He squeezed his eyes, pinched his face. The one he’d . . . Shit! She’d looked like his Lab back home.
There it was again—a memory about home instead of that stupid war. Seemed like when he got upset, memories popped into his head: bubbles floating up from a shifting sunken ship, breaching the surface, sometimes floating on the water reflecting the entire memory in a convex iridescence, but usually a mere glimpse before the bubble snapped into thin air. This time, the friendly panting face and happy brown eyes stared at him from over the top of a bed, his bed, his Lab, blond and her name was . . . ?
He sighed. Maybe another time. But she’d never bit him like that one yesterday. Right in the wrist. The puncture was beginning to fester, red and tender. Guess washing it out last night hadn’t helped. It had been his last two cups of water, too. He’d caught the water in a pan after running it over the bite. Had to conserve water for drinking. But even after boiling it, at the first swallow, thinking about the blood in it, he’d gagged and flung it in the bush.
Now his tongue was tacky on the roof of his mouth, his lips as dry and hard as a lizard’s tail, and the headache that had been doing so well was back. It had started in little fits, a nagging ache behind his right eye in the evening. Each morning the lack of it had given him hope. But yesterday as he’d walked and the day grew longer, the ache became a pounding that made him nauseous. It had been there this morning behind his right eye, and now his right eye teared trying to drown that evil gnome that surely lived inside his head, drilling behind his eye.
Water. Please. A stream or lake like the one he’d seen two days ago would be great.
There was nothing except dry road and the wall of trees and bush.
Survival methods came back: digging a hole in low ground, waiting for water to seep in the bottom (he didn’t want to wait); collecting dew on the grass (maybe in the morning); cutting a thick vine and sucking the end (no ropy vines as far as he could see, only trees and bushes).
He knew one thing, if he stayed on the highway, he stuck out like the lonely survivor he was: lonely, thirsty, without real protection, and soon to have an infected arm.
In the smudged twilight, the service station about a mile up the road was a beacon. Lights were on inside. That could be good, or bad—likely bad. He’d run across two guys, a woman and a preadolescent boy on the highway a few days ago. His first instinct had been to talk with them, join and help. Then he saw their eyes, soulless pools that followed him like a big cat eyeing a wounded zebra on the African savanna. The kid was the worst. He smiled brown crags of teeth and waved a filthy hand sporting long fingernails. Jeff ran—the other way. He could still run fast. Faster than them, that’s all that mattered.
There it was again. He had run before, and knew he was fast.
Somehow he was already off the highway, starting toward the green wall. He agreed with his legs. What he had to do was approach the service station from the rear. Or maybe from the side, so he could see the rear and the front. Whether they were good or bad folk, they would likely have both front and back covered. No matter how he approached, the highway at night was a bad idea. Though entering the deciduous forest made his skin crawl.
He shrugged off the thought of being tracked by someone or something behind the wall of trees, and broke into waist-high bushes that impeded every step. He waded forward for twenty feet and broke through to an old, two-track maintenance trail. It paralleled the highway. Surprisingly, he could see pretty well in the low light, so he shifted to a jog. If he didn’t get to the station before the end of light, he’d be a blind, easy target. Each step seemed to whip the evil gnome behind his right eye to drill deeper. He half-closed the eye. The musty odor of dead leaves and a faint skunk smell accompanied the beginnings of cool night air. That could be lucky: A skunk might keep predators away.
Trying to bring his concrete tongue out to moisten his cracked lips was no use. He gripped the axe handle at port arms. It could do some damage. A knife or a bullet would be better. Just one bullet. If they were good people in the station maybe they would give him a bullet. He would plead for two, and some antibiotics. How could all the people left be bad? There had to be some good people.
He slowed to make less noise. The clear space of the two-track allowed him to see a good distance ahead, though it felt like he was in a tunnel between trees and bushes on either side. About twenty yards ahead, a faint glow broke through from the left. It must be from the service station. Would there be traps set? Maybe even on this path? He inspected the ground. No signs of recent travel, though the dim light made it hard to tell. He forced his way through the bushes on his right, deciding to get deeper in the forest and watch his target.
A prickle ran up his neck when he entered the thicker forest. This was dark, wild country, and had been without the constant noise of nearby traffic for four years. That’s as far back as he had been awake enough to sort out this world. The only moving vehicles stuck to the wide freeways. He had specifically stayed away from them. A warning from his cardboard city pals. At least you could outrun people on foot. Out here there were no cars. So whatever animals had lived here once, had probably ventured back—he caught himself. That was another memory: cars and trucks on a highway close to where he’d grown up. How long since he’d been there?
His eyes grew more accustomed to the growing darkness. The brown vertical tree trunks alternated with black void. Leaves of a low-lying, unknown foliage floated in space—ghostly apple-green petals. He stopped and listened.
A faint breeze brought the night, ticked a few branches, rustled leaves. The smell of skunk was fading. Time to move forward.
Each step sounded too loud, crunching like an elephant dancing through crushed glass on tile. Maybe he should go back to the two-track. At least he would make less noise.
That’s what he did, and sighed in relief at his quiet steps. Then he thought about traps. Could be anywhere. He used his club like a blind man’s cane, touching the path ahead tentatively. Two taps with the club, one step. It took longer to cover the distance, but soon the back of the service station was visible through the web of foliage.
The back door, very solid, was closed. Fluorescent white light vibrated out of the window above it. A neon Kentucky Fried Chicken sign flickered on and off in reds and yellows atop the relatively modern building, probably tan-colored brick, judging from the scant illumination on the back walls.
Someone might be hiding on the far side of the building. He had to move a little further forward on the two-track to see the far side. A tap with his club, a step, a tap with his club—it touched a hard thing.
Bright lights flashed from the top of the building, blinding him. Netting erupted from the ground under him, surrounding him and closing high overhead. The netting rippled and settled and hung, a loose wall a foot around him. Still standing, he swung hard at the net with his club. It bounced back. A knife would sure be handy. Yeah, so would real bullets for whoever was coming next. Now he knew what a rabbit felt like in one of his traps, right before the end.
About the Author

 photo Anodyne Eyes Author Milt Mays_zpsrrvyf1mn.jpgMilt Mays was winner of the Paul Gillette Writers Award in 2011. He grew up in Colorado, graduated from the Naval Academy and traveled the world as a Navy doctor. Two prequel novels are: The Next Day and Dan’s War. His website is http://www.miltmays.com.

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I would like to thank Reading Addiction Virtual Book Tours for the opportunity to share this book.

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Akea – The Power of Destiny by Elizabeth Jade

Akea is born into a family of sled dogs and a life that follows a predictable path, but from the day she first sees the lone wolf, Kazakh, Akea knows her future lies beyond the safety of her home. Kazakh is well aware of Akea’s destiny and the pack laws he will break to help her reach it. Regardless of the challenges ahead, he must make sure this young husky will be ready, even if it means his life.

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Youtube Author Readings

Reading  from  Chapter 1  (2 mins 44 secs)

Reading  from  Chapter 6   (2 mins 26 secs)

Reading from Chapter 10       (2 mins 17 secs)

Author Bio

Elizabeth Jade was born in North Yorkshire, England, in 1998 and moved with her family to Wellington when she was very young. Her early schooling did not go smoothly and she began home schooling at the age of 7. She stumbled into writing at the age of fourteen when she began to struggle with depression and anxiety, and quickly found her story ideas pouring out faster than she could get them onto paper. It wasn’t until the age of eighteen that she realised her struggles in school had been due to Aspergers Syndrome (an autistic spectrum disorder). She has always had a passion for animals and has volunteered at various animal rescues, so it seemed only natural that her stories would revolve around them.

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My Review

5 Stars

On the day Akea was born it was clear that she was a special husky. When she sees a wolf in the forest she finds herself drawn to him against her parent’s wishes. After a fight between Kazakh and Akea’s father, Akea leaves with Kazakh. She learns that she has wolf blood in her and is very special. But the path that she is to walk is going to be hard before it gets better.

This is a wonderful story that would delight any kid or parent. I love hoe Akea is special and although she has challenges ahead of her she faces them and keeps growing to her ultimate role. There are traditions that are changed and pasts that need to be fixed. And although Akea faces the loss of someone close, she keeps fighting.

I recommend checking out this books for kids or those that love mid-grade books. Also there are some beautiful drawings that really bring the story to life. I can’t wait to read more from Elizabeth Jade.

I received a complimentary copy of this book. I voluntarily chose to read and post an honest review.

I would like to thank Rachel’s Random Resources for the opportunity to read and share this book.

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The Dragon’s Glare


The Dragon’s Glare (The Survival Trilogy – 2) by TJ & MJ Wolf

In 2019, three years after recovery of a powerful Hopi artifact from a mystery cave in Arizona, Una Waters finds herself on special assignment from D.C. to Chinatown in New York City. Unexplained acts of violence, including a cyber breach at the NYPD threaten to disrupt the lives of immigrants, forcing military intervention from General Ashcroft, now with U.S. Cyber Security. When newshound and compadre Jack Howser arrives to investigate a reported UFO sighting, Una begins to realize an episode of “missing time” at the Chinese New Year’s parade may hold the answers. Finally, an out-of-this-world encounter confirms Una’s childhood beliefs in Sky People, hinting that our future lies in accepting the fact that we are not alone.

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Author’s Bio’s

T.J. & M.L. Wolf joined forces in the field of Healthcare, exploring mutual interest in the work of UFO researchers like Budd Hopkins and movie directors like Steven Spielberg. The History Channel’s “Ancient Aliens” became a focal point of their quest to uncover the truth regarding humanity’s purpose and how it pertains to our future. Married twenty years, they write Speculative Fiction and live in Boardman, Ohio with their six-pound Yorkie, who keeps the family in line.

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My Review

5 stars

It has been three years since Una Waters took a Hopi artifact to keep it safe. She has since returned to her job in Washington DC but finds herself being sent to Chinatown in New York to check out some cyber-crimes. While there Una meets up with Jack Howser and General Ashcroft again. But when she realizes that she is missing time from the Chinese New Year Parade she realizes that something beyond our world is happening again.

In A Gleam of Light, we learn about the Hopi culture and aliens. In The Dragon’s Glare we are introduced to Chinese dragons and aliens. I love learning about new cultures especially their mythology. This helps to broaden our knowledge as we learn that there are more than one race of aliens and that they are not all friendly and want to share this planet.

This book has a little bit for everyone, especially if you believe in aliens and love mythology. There is also a lot of action that is going to keep you on the edge of your seat. I really like how The Dragon’s Glare did not fall into the typical middle book in a trilogy. The story just keeps getting better and I can’t wait to see how this is going to end.

I received a complimentary copy of this book. I voluntarily chose to read and post an honest review.

I would like to thank the Authors for the opportunity to read and share their book.

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