Strange Girl Book Tour: Review + Giveaway

Hey everyone! Welcome to my stop on the book tour for Strange Girl! Today I'll be sharing my review of the book with you - and don't forget to enter the giveaway!

Strange Girl

Author: Christopher Pike

Genre: YA Paranormal/Mystery

Release Date: November 17, 2015

Publisher: Simon Pulse

Description:

From #1 New York Times bestselling author Christopher Pike comes a brand-new fascinating and seductive new novel about a girl with a mysterious ability—but one that carries an unimaginable cost.

From the moment Fred meets Aja, he knows she’s different. She’s pretty, soft-spoken, shy—yet seems to radiate an unusual peace. Fred quickly finds himself falling in love with her.

Then strange things begin to happen around Aja. A riot breaks out that Aja is able to stop by merely speaking a few words. A friend of Fred’s suffers a serious head injury and has a miraculous recovery.

Yet Aja swears she has done nothing.

Unfortunately, Fred is not the only one who notices Aja’s unique gifts. As more and more people begin to question who Aja is and what she can do, she’s soon in grave danger. Because none of them truly understands the source of Aja’s precious abilities—or their devastating cost.

Love Aja or hate her—you will never forget her.

In Strange Girl, number-one bestselling author Christopher Pike has created the rarest of novels—a love story that swings between a heart-pounding mystery and a stirring mystical journey. 

Strange Girl is an addicting YA mystery with a paranormal twist that will have readers eagerly devouring its pages to uncover the truth. The writing was fantastic - it wasn't overdone with too many details or too many characters/situations happening at once. It felt completely natural and I found myself easily melting into the story from the very first page. This writing style that seems so simplistic at first glance, yet is nearly impossible to tear yourself away from once you have started, shows the author's immense talent and seasoned storytelling abilities.

The characters in the book were well written with the two main characters - Fred and Aja - being the most rounded. They each had distinct personalities with flaws, quirks, strengths - everything that makes a character realistic and easy to identify with. Aja was always a mystery during the book - from the major occurrences that everyone noticed, down to the smallest detail that only Fred and the reader picked up on. I loved getting to know Aja a little bit at a time - even though we never really get to see the "real" her. Fred is a great main character for the book. He's a typical teenage senior in high school who plays in a band and has dreams of becoming a singer/songwriter. He's sort of in the middle of the spectrum when it comes to the rest of the school's population. He's not popular, but not picked on either. He's not super smart, but is doing well enough to be taking some AP courses. He's not a jock or a nerd (or any other generic label) and is genuinely a nice guy. Although he stays in the middle - sort of blending in without standing out in any way - Fred captures the reader's attention right from the beginning of the book and doesn't let go until the final words. Since the book is written in the first person point of view - from Fred's perspective - we get to know him on a much deeper level than normal. We get a peek inside of his mind - his hopes, dreams, fears, memories, inner dialogue, thoughts, and so much more - which lets the reader form a strong personal bond with him that isn't possible with any other POV. I'm a huge fan of the first person POV, which you'll already know if you've read any of my other reviews, so I won't continue to list all of the reasons why I feel this writing style is the best choice.

The plot was unique and intriguing right from the start. It pulled me in within the first page and I was so caught up in the story that I didn't stop reading until I had finished the entire book (which ended up being a few short hours because I was so wrapped up in it). The pace is steady and natural - especially at first - but begins to speed up as the story continues and the strange occurrences start happening. By that time, my mind was racing to figure out what was really going on and I was reading as fast as I could to see what was going to happen next. I had several different theories about the truth behind it all - but I never got the right one. Or did I? There are a lot of unanswered questions for Fred and the reader throughout the book, and we're left to think about them and decide for ourselves what it all meant. Overall, this was a really fantastic book that blended two of my favorite genres, and a great first book of the new year for me. I very highly recommend it to fans of YA fiction - especially readers who enjoy mysteries, paranormal fiction, fantasy, and suspense!

Christopher Pike is a bestselling author of young adult novels. The Thirst series, The Secret of Ka, and the Remember Me and Alosha trilogies are some of his favorite titles. He is also the author of several adult novels, including Sati and The Season of Passage.

Thirst and Alosha are slated to be released as feature films. Pike currently lives in Santa Barbara, where it is rumored he never leaves his house.

But he can be found online at www.Facebook.com/ChristopherPikeBooks

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/RealChristopherPike
 
Series of writing advice on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/52999302

Buy Links: 

Amazon    B&N    BAM    IndieBound    iBookstore    Google Play

 

Tour Wide Giveaway:

 (25) Paperback copies of Strange Girl

(5) paperback sets of RED QUEEN and BLACK KNIGHT
(5) paperback sets of all 5 copies of THIRST series (1-5) in PB.
(5) paperback copies CHAIN LETTER
(5) paperback copies UNTIL THE END
(5) paperback copies BOUND TO YOU
(5) paperback copies REMEMBER ME 

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Anna and the Vampire Prince Tour: Spotlight + Giveaway

 

Welcome to my stop on the book tour for Anna and the Vampire Prince! Today I'll be spotlighting the book and author - and don't forget to enter the giveaway!

Anna and the Vampire Prince (Anna Strong Chronicles #10)
Author: Jeanne C. Stein
Genre: Paranormal
Release Date: January 1, 2016
Publisher: ARe Books
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill
75 pages


Description:

Saving her family means saving the world.

Vampire Anna Strong should be enjoying life with her new husband, Frey, but she’s too devastated by the loss of her mother to focus on much else. That is, until her niece’s best friend is kidnapped, and Anna leaps into action.

Angry citizens blame the recent rash of kidnappings on France’s immigrant population and threaten retribution that could upset the economy of the entire nation. If Anna is going to save the girl and her family vineyard, she’ll need the help of one of the oldest vampires in existence—her good friend Vlad.

Vlad and Anna set out to solve the kidnappings and save Southern France, but they soon discover the stakes are higher than they imagined. If they fail, it could be the end of the world as they know it. 

Jeanne C. Stein is the award winning, national bestselling author of the Urban Fantasy series The Anna Strong Vampire Chronicles. Anna Strong was named one of Paranormal Fantasy’s Top ten Ass-Kicking Heroines by Barnes and Nobles’s reviewer, Paul Goat Allen in 2013. Jeanne also has numerous short story credits, including the novella Blood Debt from the New York Times bestselling anthology Hexed and, most recently, The Wolf’s Paw in the bestselling anthology, Nightmares Unhinged.

Jeanne lives in Denver, CO and is active in Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers (where she was honored by winning the Writer of the Year award in 2008 and was nominated again in 2011.) Her newest venture, The Fallen Siren Series, is paranormal romance written in collaboration with Samantha Sommersby under the pseudonym S. J. Harper. The first book in that series, Cursed, debuted in 2013. A prequel novella,Captured, is available free and the second book in the series, Reckoning, was released October 7, 2014. Novella 2.5, Forsaken, is available at all online stores.

For more information on other books by Jeanne, visit her official website: www.fallensiren.com
 
Author Links:
FB: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000177556968
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JeanneCStein
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/329391.Jeanne_C_Stein

Tour Wide Giveaway: (3) Winners will each receive a copy of Forsaken by SJ Harper in ebook format + (1) ebook - winner's choice - from the ARe Wicked series.

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Release Day Blitz + Giveaway: RED by Jessica Aspen

RED: A Sexy Shifter Fairytale Romance
Author: Jessica Aspen

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: January 2, 2016
Publisher: Abracadabra Publishing

Description:

When Red runs into the hot new forest ranger she thinks it will be just a quick fling but passions ignite and soon Red is scrambling to hide all her secrets.

Fraternizing with humans is taboo but when feisty werewolf, Red, runs into the hunky new forest ranger, Evan Brewster, she jumps on the opportunity to let loose her desires. Evan is stoked when he meets the petite red haired hottie, and combined with his new discovery of wolves in Colorado, thinks his career and life are made. Then Red pushes him away, her hostile brother threatens his life, and things begin to spiral out of control.

Caught between her sexy lover and her pack can Red trust Evan with her secrets? Or must she sacrifice her human lover—and her heart?

Red entered the deep woods, sniffing in appreciation of the cool damp piney scent. The familiar narrow path was little more than a deer trail through the brush. It would get her to Grandma’s in good time. Grandma was a bit of a lone wolf who refused to have a phone. She lived up on the mountain in an area of the forest you couldn’t get to by road. Her independence drove Red’s mother crazy but Red admired the sheer rebelliousness. Good old Grandma. She insisted the old ways were best and she would live off the land until she died.

No wonder Mom had sent her to check on Grandma. Red’s lips curved in a smile. Kill two rebel birds with one stone. Her mother was ever-efficient.

She moved deeper into the woods musing about ways to get the old she-wolf on her side of the argument. Each stride loosened joints tight from a week trapped in the kitchen with her mother. The warm morning sun coming though the trees dappled the earth in an ever-changing pattern and increased her pleasure in her body’s movements. Her pace slowed and she became lulled into feeling there wasn’t any danger.

She wished she dared to change into wolf form and really move. Feel the trail under her paws, smell the true scents of the woods, taste the air. But her mother’s warning about the hunters in the park was fresh. Hunters wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a wolf.

All they would have to do was say it had attacked them, their dogs, or their squeaky duck lures and the new park ranger would side with them. No, ever since the new ranger had taken over, all the pack had become more cautious.

Her body moved her up the trail on auto-pilot while her brain continued to re-hash her problem. She was stuck in limbo, like a lamb before the slaughter. Alive, but going nowhere. She was desperate to get out of town. Her mating instincts told her she should search out a mate. But they conflicted with her personal instincts that told her to go find a career and separate from her controlling family.

But instead of taking charge of her own destiny like a human woman, here she was, checking on Grandma like a good girl. She even had a Tupperware box of goodies stuffed in her pack in case Grandma wasn't eating anything but rabbit.

Zoned out on the familiar path, her sensitive nose picked up a smell. An appetizing smell, of cloves and wood smoke and something…something male.

She froze, all her senses on alert.

Her ears and nose almost twitched forward.

There, in the shadows on the side of the trail, was a man. A man in a ranger uniform standing next to a large frame backpack. How could she not have noticed him before? How long had he been watching her?

She forced her body to look relaxed and stifled the urge flooding her system and threatening to overwhelm her - the urge to change into her wolf and deal with the danger.

She smiled, and hoped it wasn’t too toothy. Her instincts said she was a wolf, but all he would perceive was a young woman—not a threat.

This had to be the new ranger Seth had talked about non-stop for the last week. How this new guy had taken Uncle Bob’s spot when Uncle Bob died last month in a car accident. How no one was ready from the pack to step into Bob’s position and handle the pack’s personal area of the forest. How the ranger had better watch his step—or there would be trouble.

Seth had bitched and moaned, but what he hadn’t said was how totally hot this guy was. Or how delicious he smelled. She put him at just under six foot, but that was tall compared to her petite five-foot two. Long and lean, he had the look of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors, hiking or maybe skiing. He stepped forward and swept back his shaggy brown hair, revealing warm brown eyes that held the look. The look men gave women—open, appreciative, and a touch guarded.

She returned it with a bold appraising one of her own. He was just what she needed to distract her from her family issues. He was hot, male—and a stranger.

“Hi, I’m Evan Brewster.” He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. She hesitated. A slow smile crept across his lips.

She swallowed. Wolves didn’t shake hands and she didn’t usually meet anyone she hadn’t known since birth. She stepped forward, held out her hand like she thought a normal girl would. And ignored her stomach’s quivering.

“You must be Uncle Bob’s replacement. Nice to meet you.” Here was her chance to practice with a regular human. To prove to her parents and the pack elders she could function in the wide world. That her days of indiscriminate changes were over, and that she was a competent adult. He took her hand. His calloused grip was warm and strong.

Electricity shot up her arm and into her chest. Her heart rate sped up just like the seconds before a kill. Sudden warm wet heat pooled between her legs. She yanked her hand back, stopping short of rubbing her tingling palm on her thigh.

Oh man! She didn’t even know this guy. He wasn’t pack, wasn’t even a shifter, despite his touch that had her shaking. Shaking like a spindly branched cottonwood in the fall breeze. She took another deep sniff, reassured herself that he was all human. And knew he was not only human, but he was all male.

She wasn’t in heat. Why would she respond to him like this? Like she wanted to strip him down and do him right here on the path. Maybe it was the uniform. This guy filled out the standard park ranger uniform nicely. Much nicer than Uncle Bob. This was what her family had been afraid would happen if she went to college and was around too many human males. That she would pick a human, instead of one of the not-so-distantly related wolves they kept parading in front of her. Mate with one of them, instead of her own kind.

Inter-species relationships between humans and wolf-shifters were common in the old days when populations were spread out and the choice of mates was slim. Now they were rare. Extremely rare. No one mated permanently with humans. It was wrong, just wrong. Maybe her family was right. If she was this desperate she should just pick one of the available local wolves and settle down.

But she’d never felt like this about any of the pack males. Not even the human guy she’d been with as a teenager had caused this immediate tingling urge for sex. She swallowed, feeling suddenly shy and cautious, and smiled.

Evan.

She rolled his name through her mind, resisted the desire to taste the flavor of it on her tongue. Maybe if she wasn’t touching him she could do this—carry on a normal conversation. She struggled for something to say, something that would cover this incredible desire to fuck a complete stranger.

“Welcome to Radon,” she managed to get out. “How do you like it so far?” Inane. Moronic. But it was out now. She hoped he couldn’t see the shaking that had started at his touch, or smell the moisture between her legs. Luckily, he was only human.

Calm down, Red! You can do this. You have to do this.

“It’s been interesting. It’s a pretty tight-knit little town.” His gaze had warmed, becoming friendly. And interested.

She knew what that appraising look meant. She’d received it from all the available males her parents had invited to their house in an effort to entice her to settle down. But none of the bachelor wolves had made her feel like this. Like her whole body was tuned in to his. Like she should get on all fours, push her ass in the air, spread her legs, and beg.

Her palms were damp. She caught him checking her out and was glad her hoodie was zipped up over her chest. Her nipples tightened so fast, so hard, they almost hurt.

"Town's been a little tough on you, huh?" she asked. Poor guy, he couldn't have known what coming to this area would be like. They hadn’t had a ranger who wasn’t pack in her lifetime. The county was up in arms.

“You could say that.” He shot her a conspiratorial smile that warmed his eyes to molten chocolate. She had a sudden vivid picture of a sheepskin rug and him lying naked in front of a fire, her lips and tongue tracing the contoured lines of muscles illuminated by the flames.

She dragged her mind back, forcing it to focus on the present. Focus on the words coming out from between his sexy lips.

“You’re the friendliest person I’ve run into in this town. Where have you been hiding?”

Wrong question ranger. The question was who had been hiding him from her? Now her mother keeping her home from work to make jam made sense. Her mother would never think she was an adult. Although maybe her mom was right—given her lusty thoughts maybe she should be sequestered.

“I normally work in town—at the general store. I must have just missed you.” Yeah right. Did that sound as lame to him as it had to her? She lifted her chin. Her mother’s plan had backfired. Despite being sent off to the boonies she’d met the new guy in town. And boy was he hot.

“Is that Burdock’s? It’s the only general store I’ve seen.” One long hand reached up, pushing his thatch of hair back off his face in an unconscious slow sensual movement. The hair fell forward back into place as soon as he released it, thick and dark and oh so touchable.

“Yeah. I guess you’ve been in there.”

“Yeah. Is the black haired dude with the bad-ass attitude related?” His eyes crinkled up at the corners when he smiled. Another urge to spread her thighs slid through her. In an effort to control it, she clenched them tight.

What had he asked?

“Seth,” she said, relieved she knew what to say. “He’s one of my brothers. He’s none too happy you’re here.”

“Why is that?”

“Let’s just say we’re a typical small town. Outsiders aren’t really welcome.”

“You know, you’re the first woman I’ve met under thirty all week. I was beginning to wonder where they all were.”

Dangerous territory. She’d better be careful what she said. Obviously the alphas had the few available females under lock and key.

“We have a surplus of men in this town. You probably just missed the women.” He made her so nervous, she just knew she would slip and let something out. Something that would alert him that all was not as it seemed in small town Radon, Colorado. “It’s been nice but I have to get going.”

She smiled and started to move down the path, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her.

The back of her neck prickled.

She supposed he was eager to talk to the only friendly face in town but she wished he would back off. She was having enough trouble controlling herself as it was. Her heightened senses told her to take action. Now.

He’d moved too close. His spicy male scent filled her nostrils, caressing her skin. She wanted to bury her face in the crook of his neck and inhale, suck him in like oxygen before going underwater.

“Where are you off to?”

“My grandmother lives up the mountain. I’m just going to check on her, stay a while.”

His face lost its easy smile and grew concerned. “You’re hiking up the mountain by yourself? A woman like you shouldn’t be out here alone.” She bristled at his statement. Just like her brother! What was it with men and their bossy attitudes?

“A woman like me? Slow down buster! I’ve been hiking this mountain since I could walk. You’re out here alone, why not me?”

“But I’m a trained outdoorsman. What if the weather changes? You hardly look prepared in those shorts. What do you have in that pack?” He moved closer to her. She backed up, suppressing the desire to bare her teeth. With relief she channeled her newfound sexuality into anger instead. This she understood. Human or not, he was beginning to get her back up, just like any other male.

“I’ll be at Grandma’s before dark. And it’s an incredible day. No storm in sight. See ya.” She edged around him back onto the path, determined to put both him and temptation behind her.

“Wait, I’ll go with you. There are signs of hunters in the area. You shouldn’t be hiking alone.” He shouldered his oversize pack with ease. Then scrambled, trying to buckle the waist straps and keep up with her at the same time. She stepped up the pace.

She could feel him close behind, knew he was eye level with her ass. Knew he watched her backside swish with each step. Her tingling nerves began to send messages again. With him nipping at her ankles, she felt like prey.

“No, thanks. You won’t be able to keep up.” She moved faster, pumping her legs in a rapid rhythm on the familiar trail. His legs might be longer than hers, but she had wolf stamina and a light pack. No way he could keep up with her for long.

“Hey, I’ve been through hell in the military. If I could keep up in basic, then I can keep up with you, little girl.”

She laughed. Flashing a catch-ya-later look over her shoulder she put on a hair more speed. He’d find out soon enough that she might be little but she had more oomph in this little package than most. And he could just watch her swish her tail until she was out of sight.

Jessica Aspen always wanted to be spirited away to a world inhabited by elves, were-wolves and sexy men who walk on the dark side of the knife. Luckily, she’s able to explore her fantasy side and delve into new worlds by writing spicy paranormal romance. She loves indulging in dark chocolate, reading eclectic novels, and dreaming of ocean vacations, but instead spends most of her time, writing, walking the dog, and hiking in the Colorado Rockies.

To sign up for Jessica Aspen’s new release email and to get your FREE bonus book, please go to: http://eepurl.com/zs4Sj

Author Links: 
http://jessicaaspen.com
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5759763.Jessica_Aspen
https://twitter.com/JessicaAspen
https://www.facebook.com/JessicaAspenAuthor
http://pinterest.com/jessicaaspen/

  Tour Wide Giveaway: (5) ebook copies of of RED

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Entangled Ever After Book Tour: Excerpt + Giveaway - Wish Upon a Star by Michelle McLean

 

Welcome to my stop on the Entangled Ever After book tour! Today I'm highlighting Wish Upon a Star by Michelle McLean along with a great excerpt from the book!

Wish Upon a Star
Author: Michelle McLean
Genre: Contemporary/Horror
Release Date: September 30, 2013
Publisher: Entangled Ever After
ISBN: 9781622663323 


Buy Links: Amazon / Barnes and Noble

Description:

Ceri McKinley never stopped wishing that her ex-fiancé Jason Crickett would come back into her life. But when he finally does, he comes with a request that puts them both—and all of humanity—into jeopardy.

Jason only wants two things: to bury his brother properly and to convince Ceri to trust him again after he jilted her. But when Ceri agrees to help him get his brother back, they end up fighting for their lives as the second zombie uprising threatens them all. 

Jason sank down beside me and pulled me toward him, pressing a kiss against my temple.
“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing soot and a few burned leaves from my face and hair. The smell of burned plastic and singed hair coated everything. But it could have been worse.
I leaned against him for a moment before trying to push to my feet.
Jason stopped me. “Rest for a minute.” He reached into my backpack and pulled out another bottle of water.
I took it gratefully, gulping down half the bottle before handing it to him to finish off. When he was done, he bent down, kissing a drop of water from my lips. His hands cupped my face. “I’m sorry. For everything. All of it. Everything I put you through. These wasted years without you.”
“I’m sorry too.” I pulled away and looked up at him. “If we get through this—”
“When we get through this. Not if.”
I gave him a small smile and nodded, knowing he knew what I wanted to say without having to voice the words. “When we get through this, maybe we can talk. About things.”
He gave me one more lingering kiss. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“But for now,” I said, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.
“Rain check?”
“Rain check.”

I grew up in California and have lived everywhere from the deserts of Utah to the tropical beaches of Hawaii to the gorgeous forests of the east coast. The oldest of five children, I am generally an organized mess with slight Obsessive Compulsive tendencies. I have a B.S. in History, a M.A. in English, an insatiable love of books, and more weird quirks than you can shake a stick at.

I am the author of Homework Helpers: Essays and Term Papers, (Career Press Jan 2011), To Trust a Thief (Entangled Scandalous Jan 2013), a historical romance trilogy Blood Blade Sisters (Entangled Scandalous 2013), and a zombie fairy tale retelling Wish Upon a Star (Entangled Ever After Oct 2013). In addition to my novels and non-fiction work, I write picture books and a bit of poetry. If I'm not editing, reading, or chasing my kids around, I can usually be found in a quiet corner working on my next book.

I currently reside in Pennsylvania with my husband and two young children, an insanely hyper dog, and two very spoiled cats.

Author Links:
Website: http://www.michellemcleanbooks.com/
Blog: http://michellemclean.blogspot.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/michellemclean
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/michelle.m.mclean
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4253087.Michelle_McLean

Prize: $20 Gift Card (Winner’s Choice: Amazon/B&N) & a “Wish” Necklace 

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The Cat's Meow Blog Tour: Review & Giveaway

 

The Cat's Meow (Witch's Brew #1)
Author: Stacey Kennedy
Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance
Release Date: December 13, 2012
Publisher: Entangled Edge
Length: 256 pages 
ISBN: 978-1-62266-857-1 

Buy Links:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Kobo
iTunes 

Description:

When a magical presence is detected around a recent string of feline slayings, Libby, an enchantress, is determined to discover who is behind the odd deaths. But being a witch gifted by the Goddess won’t protect her from the talented warlock the Coven sends to assist her. Kale weaves a spell more powerful than any she’s ever seen--and he's sexy as sin. But why he's even needed for such a simple mission is beyond her.

While having some muscle around can't hurt her investigation, fighting her growing attraction for Kale is worse than a hex, especially considering she knows he—and their Coven—are hiding something from her. When she turns up clues that point to something far more sinister than slaughtered cats, though, the elusive warlock isn't the her only concern. She now has a political rebellion on her hands, too. And when the truth about who she really is begins to surface, the only person Libby can trust is herself. 

The Cat's Meow is the first book in a urban fantasy/romance series that follows witch and coven worker Libby, who has been assigned a new case by the coven to investigate - a series of strange cat deaths in the area. On top of the new case, Libby is not amused by the warlock sent to help her solve the case - the handsome and mysterious Kale. Will Libby be able to keep her mind - and hands - off Kale long enough to solve the mystery before things go from bizarre to horrible?

This was a really fun and interesting urban fantasy novel that will have readers begging for the next book after finishing the last sentence. Libby is a great main character - she's witty and smart with a wicked attitude. She's good at what she does - casting spells and working for the Coven - and she knows it. The tension between her and Kale is almost immediate and it's interesting to watch their interactions as they both try to fight their growing attraction to each other. The plot is a great one - witches are always a must read for me - so a new urban fantasy series focused on witch's was right up my alley. I loved the back story we learn about the Coven and the magic, along with the detailed structure and descriptions of the witches, warlocks, and the Coven. I hope that we continue to delve deeper into the politics and history as the series progresses. The writing was fantastic and had me completely immersed within the first couple of sentences. I found myself reading as fast as I could to see what would happen next, all while trying to put the pieces of the mystery together before the characters did. The book has a quick pace and an easy flow that made this a fast read for me - mostly because I couldn't stop reading! Highly recommended for fans of paranormal fiction and definitely for fans of urban fantasy series!

Stacey Kennedy is an urban fantasy lover at heart, but she also enjoys losing herself in dark and sensual worlds. She lives in southwestern Ontario with her husband, who gave her a happily-ever-after. Together, they have two small children who can always make her smile, and who will never be allowed to read Mommy’s books. If she’s not plugging away at a new story, you’ll find her camping, curling up with the latest flick, or obsessing over Sons of Anarchy and Game of Thrones.

Author Links:
Website - http://www.staceykennedy.com/
Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/AuthorStaceyKennedy
Facebook Fan Page - www.facebook.com/StaceyKennedyFanPage
Twitter - https://twitter.com/#!/Stacey_Kennedy
Goodreads - http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3473046.Stacey_Kennedy

 Tour Wide Giveaway: 

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Bad Apple Blog Tour: Spotlight

Bad Apple (Bad Apple #1)
Author: Barbara Morgenroth
Genre: Mature YA Contemporary
Publisher: DashingBooks
Word Count: 39,000

ASIN: B0045JK2XW 
Cover Artist: Photo by Aleshyn Andrei. Cover design by Barbara Morgenroth 

Buy Links:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Kobo

Description:

“You tell and next time you won’t even be able to crawl away.”

Neal Marchal lived with this threat for the next eight years. When she finds her neighbor murdered, she knows who did it. The why is the secret the family has been keeping forever. The reminder to never reveal the secret is her limp.

She rebuilt her life and now Neal has everything to live for—music, performing and a growing affection for the young man who pulled her to safety.

Then Joe comes home. Neal knows Joe’s going to finish what he started 8 years ago because she told. But this time Neal vows the outcome will be different. 

Barbara was born in New York City and but now lives somewhere else. By now, she thinks of herself as a country girl and knows more about gardening and animals than how to ride the subway.


Starting her career by writing tweens and YA books, (and did the cover photography for her first two books published by Atheneum so continuing to do the covers to her ebooks is predictable), she was actually aiming at the small screen. Television seemed like the perfect place for her even if she had no clue how to get there. Life is funny and often presents opportunities. Advice--Grab Them! Through a neighbor, Barbara wound up getting an introduction to a lower honcho at ABC and an audition to write for them. Her hopes were more than dashed, they were disintegrated, evaporated, demolished when ABC couldn't find a place for Barbara on General Hospital. (No Luke and Laura in her future!) To ease the crushing disappointment, Barbara wrote “In Real Life I'm Just Kate” about a 17 year old girl who becomes a star on a soap opera. That became an open sesame moment and shortly thereafter Barbara became the last headwriter for NBC's daytime serial, The Doctors, where she was ordered by the network to kill Alec Baldwin, shooting him not once but twice. With two different guns. From different directions.


Ah, good times.


You can read the book that started Barbara’s television career as the Kindle YA ebook, “Just Kate”, now with a substantial tweak because living life made her smarter.


You can also read about some could-be-hers-could-be-rumors experiences gleaned during Barbara’s stint in daytime television in the Kindle romantic comedy, In Under My Head. Barbara is a recipient of a Writers Guild of America Best Writing Award for her work on One Life To Live.


Whether you're looking for a Mature YA or a romantic comedy, Barbara has a book for you!

www.barbaramorgenroth.blogspot.com

www.facebook.barbara.morgenroth.5

Amazon Author Page

  


 

Surrender Blog Tour: Spotlight & Excerpt

SURRENDER (The Ferryman and The Flame #1)
Author: Rhiannon Paille

Genre: YA Fantasy, Paranormal Romance

ISBN: 978-1480029859

Number of pages: 402
Word Count: 100k

Cover Artist: Marc Wolfe

 

Book Description:

How far would you go to save everything you ever loved? Kaliel was warned about her love for the Ferryman. One day he will marry the land and leave Avristar forever. She doesn't listen, and because of what she is-- a Flame-- one of nine apocalyptic weapons, she sparks a war. In a desperate attempt to save her home and her love, Kaliel tries to awaken Avred, not knowing she may have to make the ultimate sacrifice. 

“Sorry I scared you,” he said.
Kaliel pressed her lips to her knees, hoping she could hold in her emotions. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Silence hung between them for awhile. He shifted on the cloak, the black tunic he wore shifting with him. He stretched his legs out, and Kaliel looked at his shin-high boots and breeches. He stole a glance at her turtle shell. “What are you afraid of?”
Kaliel stood. “Happy endings.” She didn’t know how else to explain it. She had contemplated the parable so many times it was exhausting. It didn’t matter which path she took—neither of them seemed very appealing. She let the mist soak her sleeves and stick to her skin. She heard Krishani behind her before he ran his hand down her back making shivers run up her spine. He stayed there, a foot away, and she wished he would move closer, envelope her in his arms. He wasn’t supposed to talk to her. This had to be wrong. What would the brotherhood think?
“Happy endings?” he whispered. He sounded both unsure and nervous. “What do you mean?”
“What if someone comes?” She was worried Lord Istar would burst through the trees and find them in this compromising awkwardness. It seemed more taboo than practically drowning in the lake.
Krishani let out a breath. “Nobody ever comes here.”
Kaliel closed her eyes. “You come here.”
Krishani took a step forward and she could feel the heat radiating off him. “All the time.”
She didn’t answer, instead listening to the sound of the falls. Moonlight glinted off the flecks of water. She thought about the orb of ice he created for her. She hadn’t been able to do anything close to that awesome.
“What are you thinking?” he asked again.
She closed her eyes and felt her energy shift; like it had the day she went to the Great Oak. Heat rushed through her as she leaned back, trying to feel him, but not trying to force it if it wasn’t what he wanted. It was clear to her he cared, but she was so worried about whether or not she should let him.
“My parable,” she whispered.
He went rigid, his hand sliding down her upper forearm. “What did the Oak say to you?”
She shook her head. “Never mind, I have to figure it out. Both paths seem so dreary.” “You seem too sweet to have a bad parable.”
She didn’t want to talk about the nightmares of the Flames, the parable, the fact the Brotherhood would disapprove of him touching her. It felt so natural; the last few moons had been lonely without him. She couldn’t explain what she felt, but she couldn’t watch him marry the land and leave the island.
“But I do,” she said. She drew her hands instinctively to her chest, her elbows digging into her ribs. He dropped his hand as she turned, and buried her face in his chest. He reluctantly ran his hands through her hair, letting them rest on the small of her back.
“I thought about you every day,” he said as she pressed her cheek into his tunic.
She smiled against his shirt. “And I thought about you.”
“Promise me something?” He wasn’t holding her, not really, their bodies weren’t pressed together and the inches between them made Kaliel feel cold.
“What?”
“You’ll find a happy ending.”
“What if I can’t?”
He pulled back and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Promise me you will.” His eyes met hers and his jaw dropped. His hand paused, cupping her face in his palm. He held her gaze, her heart beating hard. Before she had time to answer, he pressed his lips against hers. She didn’t expect him to do that and it was better than she imagined. She came to life under him, kissing him back with unyielding passion that made him pull away to seemingly catch his breath.
Kaliel’s sadness drained away as he broke from her lips and then cupped her face with both hands and kissed her again, pressing the length of his body against her. His kisses made her feel light and giddy, like she could float into the sky. She slid her hands up his chest and looped them around his neck. There was swimming in the lake and losing her breath and then there was this. Being out of breath with him was like drowning in a sea of happiness. He could keep her prisoner forever and she’d never complain. He pulled away again, and wound his arms around her waist, trapping her against him. His lips found hers again, rough and inexperienced, but strong and satisfying.
She opened her mouth and his tongue grazed hers, warmth spreading from her heart to the rest of her body, making her tingle. She smiled against his lips.
“I missed you.” She tried to steady her breathing.
Krishani shook his head and put his hands on either side of her face. “This is all I want. This and nothing else, ever.” His mouth covered hers again. He pressed himself against her and she sighed. It felt like she had known him her entire life and even longer, if longer even existed.
Images appeared behind her eyelids—the shape of a boy and a girl wearing gaudy crowns on their heads. They were painted into parchment, but they were blurry. She was too elated by Krishani and his lips on hers to record the images, but they seemed familiar.
And then everything changed. Krishani pushed his lips against hers one last time and she felt the shift in her energy dissipate. It was as though all the joy evaporated, replaced by intense fear. She pushed him away and tried to understand the pounding in her heart that made her want to break in half.
Bloom the weed of temptation.
He looked confused and shocked. Without a word, she turned and fled towards the Elmare Castle.

 

Rhi was never a normal girl. Her life was an urban fantasy wrapped in a paranormal romance and served with a side of horror. To escape her everyday weirdness she began writing fantasy. She studied at U of Sedona and MIMT, obtaining a PhD in Metaphysical Science and Parapsychology. She’s married to a chef/comic book shop owner and she has a fondness for architecture. She frequents twitter and facebook, but if you really want to get to know her you should visit her site: www.yafantasyauthor.com

Author Links: 

http://www.yafantasyauthor.com
http://www.twitter.com/rhiannonpaille
http://www.facebook.com/rhiannonpaille
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4653530.Rhiannon_Paille

The Hallowed Ones Book Spotlight

THE HALLOWED ONES
Author: Laura Bickle
Genre: YA Dystopian/Paranormal
Release Date: September 25, 2012
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Graphia
Paperback: 320 pages
ISBN-10: 0547859260
ISBN-13: 978-0547859262

Description:

If your home was the last safe place on earth, would you let a stranger in?
In this captivating thriller, an Amish settlement is the last safe haven in a world plagued by an unspeakable horror…
Katie is on the verge of her Rumspringa, the time in Amish life when teenag-ers are free to experience non-Amish culture before officially joining the church. But before Rumspringa arrives, Katie’s safe world starts to crumble. It begins with a fiery helicopter crash in the cornfields, followed by rumors of massive unrest and the disappearance of huge numbers of people all over the world. Something is out there...and it is making a killing.
Unsure why they haven’t yet been attacked, the Amish Elders make a de-cree: No one goes outside their community, and no one is allowed in. But when Katie finds a gravely injured young man lying just outside the bounda-ry of their land, she can’t leave him to die. She refuses to submit to the Elder’s rule and secretly brings the stranger into her community—but what else is she bringing in with him?

Advance Praise for THE HALLOWED ONES:

 
"This is a book to make you fear the shadows--a horrifying and gruesome tale of faith, and things that blink red eyes in the night. I began reading in the daylight, and read on into the late hours, leaning close, biting my lip. I could not look away; I was ob-sessed. Katie is an unbreakable soul."
--Lauren DeStefano, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of the Chemical Garden Trilogy


Excerpt:

CHAPTER 1 

After the end of the Outside world, the Plain folk survived.

At the time, I didn’t know that the end of Outside had happened. None of us really did. We knew that something was wrong, of course. That knowledge trickled in slowly, like a leak in a roof. The signs accumulated, and then there was no denying the dark stain spreading over the pale ceiling of our world.

My first inkling was on a day in late September under a cloudless blue sky. The ravens had begun picking at the corn that was drying in the fields, black specks in the gold. I leaned on the wooden fence post, watching the birds scratch and listening to them caw to one another in their inscrutable hoarse language. The wire fence was pierced here by a wooden gate, to move farm equipment and cattle. This was a remote part of our little settlement of Plain people, but it made a good place to get away from chores and parents.

Beside me, Elijah had picked up a rock to scare the birds away.

“Don’t throw that,” I said, automatically. “It’s mean.”

Elijah looked at the stone, shrugged, put it down. He was a year older than me, but he would do anything I asked. Tall and lanky and sunburned from working outdoors, he cut a handsome figure: dark hair and hazel eyes that crinkled when he smiled. I wasn’t sure what I thought about that yet. We had grown up together. But things were changing. We both could feel it.

He leaned against the fence beside me, staring out at the field. I knew what he was looking at, the same thing I was . . . at what lay beyond the field. At the black ribbon of road just beyond the corn that carried the English to and from their business Outside. They drove their shiny cars down the two-lane highway, intent on going home or to work or school. At this distance, we could barely make out the drivers. Sometimes men or women drove boxy sedans in pressed suits and blouses. Often they would be couples with children strapped into harnesses in the back seat. Other times the drivers would be people around our age, talking on their phones or chatting with friends in the passenger seat. We were too far away to see their expressions. But during the summer, with the windows down, we could sometimes hear snippets of their laughter.

Since the time we were children, Elijah and I had made up stories about the people in the cars. We imagined that they were driving to the movies or going to parties. Once, we spied a sleek black limousine and fancied that it contained men in tuxedos and women in evening dresses. Maybe a group going to prom. It was as far away from our everyday world as we could envision.

“Someday that’s going to be us out there,” Elijah said, gesturing with his chin toward the road.

“Soon. Three more weeks.” I’d been daydreaming about Outside for so long. And it was almost time for Rumspringa. Literally, it meant “running around.” It was the time for young Amish men and women to go beyond the gate and taste the Outside world. After years of begging and pleading, my parents had finally relented and let me go Outside this year, on two conditions: that I wait until the harvest was completed, and that Elijah go with me. We wouldn’t be formally living together, of course. I intended to room with one of the girls I’d grown up with, Hannah Bachman. And one of Elijah’s friends, Sam Vergler, would go too. Sam and Hannah had been courting since Hannah had turned sixteen. We’d have a girls’ apartment
and a boys’ apartment. Proper. But for all practical intents, Elijah and I would be going on Rumspringa together.

Though he could have gone sooner Elijah had declared that he wouldn’t participate in Rumspringa without me. He’d been saving money, apprenticing to a master carpenter and helping out with his father’s farm. He seemed content, though, with his day-to-day life, content with the waiting. And I knew that my parents hoped that Elijah and I would someday be married. Indeed, I couldn’t picture myself being married to anyone else . . . though I admitted that it would be strange to see him with a beard like the ones worn by all married Amish men, rather than his handsome, clean-shaven face. It was the destiny I’d accepted. I was Amish. I didn’t dislike my life and accepted the inevitabilities cheerfully. Still, I wanted the experience of Outside. To know that I’d made the right choice. To be absolutely certain.

There was a difference, I had decided, between knowing and believing. And I wanted both.

“What’s the first thing we’re going to do Outside, Katie?” Elijah asked, grinning. “Eat sushi?”

“Ugh. No.” I wrinkled my nose. This was a game we played often: When we are Outside . . . “I am going to buy a pair of britches. Jeans.”

He stood back and looked at me, considering. “You? In britches?”

“Ja,” I said, lifting my chin defiantly. “And I want to go to the movies.”

“The movies?” he echoed. He was still fixated on the jeans; I could tell by how he stared at my rump. “What kind of movie do you want to see?”

“I’m not sure.” I smiled slyly. I’d found a newspaper while Outside with my father earlier that day. He occasionally delivered fresh produce to a convenience store that catered to English tourists. If I picked the produce, I could keep the money. I kept mine squirreled away in a wooden box that Elijah had made for me, with the word Rumspringa carved on the top. After we delivered the produce, I found the page of movies in a trash can outside of the store and had tucked it away in my apron pocket. I pulled it out now and smoothed it over the top beam of the fence. “See. There’s a lot to choose from.”

Elijah leaned over my shoulder, and I could feel his breath disturbing the tie on my bonnet. “Wow.” His finger traced over the listings. There was one that showed an explosion and soldiers in uniform. Another depicted a cartoon dragon with wings wrapped around a castle. I was partial to that one. It seemed magical, dangerous, and compelling. Though he was only printed in black-and-white, I imagined that the dragon was blue — blue as the sky at dusk.

“How about this?” Elijah pointed to an advertisement for a film that showed a female spy in a leather suit. Her breasts strained to be released from the zipper that contained them, and she held a gun longer than her impressive legs.

I peered at the woman in leather. “If you want. As long as I can see the dragon film.”

Elijah laughed. “I would think you’d object to that. But she is wearing britches.”

I shrugged. The woman seemed very unreal, as two-dimensional as the paper she appeared on. I wasn’t threatened by fantasy. “No. I’d be eager to see if she really looks like that in the film, though.”

“So am I.” He lifted his eyebrows. I swatted him playfully.

Our gazes gradually settled back to the horizon, at the black ribbon of road. The whine of an engine echoed in the distance, like a mosquito.

“Ooh, a speeder,” Elijah said. He stepped up on the lowest rail of the fence for a better look. Sometimes the speeders were followed by policemen with lights blazing and siren howling — a special thrill.

I shaded my eyes with my hand and peered at the faraway road. To my surprise, it was not a sports car that zinged along. This was a square sport-utility vehicle, piled high with luggage and boxes lashed to the roof. The driver, a man, was yelling. His wife was turned around in the passenger’s seat, and I could not see her face. Nor could I see the expressions of the children.

But I could hear high-pitched crying.

“They must be in a hurry to go camping,” Elijah murmured.

“I’m glad I’m not going on that vacation,” I said.

The vehicle sped out of sight, and no police car followed it.

I frowned, feeling sorry for the family. That sense of unease was foreign to me. My parents had always given my younger sister and me a happy home. I had never been afraid of my father, nor could I remember him ever having a cross word with my mother. Like Elijah and me, they had grown up together. That familiarity had not bred contempt, and they didn’t concern themselves with what lay beyond the gate.

I did. And I wondered if Elijah and I would ever be like them.

“Katie.”

I jumped, hearing my father’s voice behind me. I whirled, stuffing the newspaper page into my apron pocket.

My father was crossing the meadow to the fence. Under his straw hat and above his gray beard, I could see the glimmer of a smile. Though his voice was stern, he wasn’t angry with me. And I had never given him reason to be, never been disobedient . . . that he knew about. He didn’t know about the time that I’d spent at the county library when I’d been ostensibly studying to be a teacher. He didn’t know that I’d read about dinosaurs and planets and plenty of other things not accepted by the Amish. He may have suspected, but he didn’t know. And he was a fair-enough man not to punish me just for the simple suspicion of wrongdoing.

“Ja, Father?”

He nodded at Elijah. He never chastised me for spending time with Elijah. “Mrs. Parsall is here to see the puppies.”

I smiled, though my stomach churned. “She’s at the kennel?”

“Ja. She stopped by the house first, and I told her to go on to meet you there. She’s wondering how many puppies to expect for her customers.”

“I’ll see to her now.”

“Good girl.”

I gave Elijah an apologetic smile and hurried across the sloping meadow to the weather-silvered barn in the distance.

My father had given me the responsibility of managing the family dogs three years ago. I’d been very proud to have the job — he even allowed me to set the prices and keep a portion of the money. He’d told me that it would help make a businesswoman of me. I’d made a profit every year, tucked it away in my Rumspringa box. Maybe it should have gone into the sparsely filled hope chest my mother had given me. But Rumspringa was the apple of my eye, my immediate future.

Running the kennel was often a challenge for me — letting go of what I loved. Though we’d always been kind to our dogs, we’d heard stories of others who weren’t so humane. Those tales made me very, very sad. I loved the dogs dearly, and it was hard for me to give them up. Even to Mrs. Parsall, who promised that she found them loving homes and showed me photographs that people had sent her of the puppies as they grew up. She sometimes told me what their new names were, though they were still classified in my head under the nicknames I’d given each and every one.

Mrs. Parsall was waiting for me outside the dilapidated barn, dressed in jeans and a floppy sun hat. She was a plump, middle-aged woman with blond hair and glasses that slid down her nose. I adored her. She extended her arms out for a hug, and her blue eyes crinkled. She often encouraged me to use her first name, Ginger, but that seemed too disrespectful.

“Katie, how are you, dear?”

I grinned against her shoulder. “Good, good. And you?”

Mrs. Parsall smiled. “Wonderful. And how is Sunny? Is she ready to have her babies?”

“Come see for yourself!” I pushed open the creaky sliding door and led her into the barn. “I expect she might go another week, maybe two. But she’s huge.”

Mrs. Parsall grinned. “That’s great. I have a waitlist . . . The more, the merrier.”

The barn was cool in shadow, and it took a moment for my eyesight to adjust from the brilliance of the day. It was an old gray barn, not for any good use for cows and horses anymore, and more than distant from my house. It sat a stone’s throw from the foundations of a house that had once existed decades ago. I’d been told that the house had been struck by lightning. The neighbors who once lived there move east, and their property had fallen into disrepair. But it was my own little kingdom.

The Hexenmeister had painted a hex sign over the barn door years ago, when I’d started breeding dogs. The symbol he’d picked included sheaves of wheat, for fertility. That part was for the dogs. He’d also worked in spokes of purple tulips, signifying faith and chastity. That part was for me. I’d smiled when I saw it, but it felt like the Hexenmeister was giving me a lecture every time I saw the contradictory images.

Sunlight streamed into the barn through chinks in the old slats, and I smelled sweet hay. Though I called this place a kennel and there were wire cages, I rarely used them. The golden retrievers I raised were a
good bunch and had free run of the farm, except when birthing or when the puppies were very small. It wouldn’t do to have one injured or have a bitch give birth in an unknown place.

But Sunny was here, waiting for me. She ran up to me, her bulging body wobbling as she came to greet us. She licked my hands and arms, made an effort to jump on my shoulders, but she was just too heavy with puppies for that kind of horseplay. Mrs. Parsall crouched down at Sunny’s level, and the dog vigorously washed her face with her tongue.

Mrs. Parsall ran her hands over Sunny’s sides. “Oh my. You look about ready to pop, old girl.”

Sunny wagged her tail. This was her third litter. She was a good mama, attentive and loving to her pups.

“Who’s the sire?” Mrs. Parsall asked.

“The papa is Copper. He’s likely to be around somewhere, maybe chasing chickens.”

“Ah. They’ll have beautiful pups.” She rubbed Sunny’s glossy stomach. “Just beautiful.”

“I think so,” I said modestly. “Copper has the broad chest and that dark gold. I’m hoping that the pups will inherit their mother’s desire to stay home, though.”

Mrs. Parsall kissed Sunny behind the ear. “A little wanderlust never hurt anyone.”

I laughed. “You’ve not seen Copper being chased by the rooster. He isn’t fond of the dog harassing his hens.”

Mrs. Parsall looked up at me through her bifocals. “This will be your last litter before you do the Rumspringa thing?”

I nodded. As eager as I was to experience Outside, a pain welled in my throat at the idea of leaving the dogs. “It will be. But I’ve been training my little sister about the dogs. She’ll care for them in the meantime.”

“How long will you be gone?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I haven’t really thought about how long.” The group of us had talked about going north, to the nearest large city, to rent apartments and find some work. We could be gone a week or a year.

Or . . . a small voice in my head prodded. Or you could be gone for always.

But as much as I wanted to experience Outside, the Plain community was all I’d ever known, and I didn’t know if I had the desire or the fortitude to leave it permanently.

I suppose that was what Rumspringa was for. To test limits and make decisions. Most of the young people in our community came back after only a few weekends Outside, spent at amusement parks or camping. Some made no formal display of leaving. They just wandered to the malls and cities during the day, wearing jeans and makeup and experimenting with cigarettes and fast food in a halfhearted way before being baptized into the Amish faith and giving up those things for good. Very few Amish “jumped the fence” and stayed Outside. But it still seemed possible. Vague, but possible.

Mrs. Parsall smiled. “You are always welcome at my house. You know that.” Her home was empty now that her son and daughter had gone away to college across the country. Though she was very proud of them, I could tell that she was lonely. But contemplating Rumspringa at Mrs. Parsall’s house seemed a bit like a sleepover at a favorite aunt’s . . . not the full experience of Outside that I craved.

I gave her a spontaneous hug and a grin. “Thank you.”

She patted my cheek. “You just have to be careful. There are a lot of dangers out there for a young woman.”

“Don’t you mean for a naive young woman?” I didn’t bristle; my tone was teasing.

“For anyone.” Mrs. Parsall’s pretty moon face darkened. “It’s not like it used to be.”

“My parents went Outside for their Rumspringa,” I said. “They told me to be wary of the intentions of strange men. And smoking and drinking and staying out late.” My parents had raised me to be a so-called nice girl; they wanted me to return as one.

“Not only that. Things have become more violent.” She frowned. “There was a mass murder, not too far from here, last week. A whole family slaughtered in their sleep.”

I shuddered, though the idea seemed unreal as the movie advertisements. “I will have Elijah.”

“Just be very, very careful,” the older woman said. “It’s a dangerous world.”

“You sound like my parents.”

“All parents love their children. You should have heard the lecture I gave my kids before they left the house.” She grinned. “Though they were well-armed with cell phones, checking accounts, laundry soap, and condoms, I still worried.”

“Mrs. Parsall!” I could feel the blush spreading beneath my pale cheeks. Though I had seen the dogs breed many times and knew perfectly well what caused children, I was still uncomfortable with the idea of myself having babies. Or experiencing sex, for that matter. And love . . . love was a mysterious thing. I saw a lot of couples marrying out of a sense of acceptance, of duty. That was a kind of love, but not the passionate love that I saw people emphasize Outside.

“These are the facts of life, m’dear.” Mrs. Parsall chuckled. “Love and lust and laundry soap. Just ask Sunny.”

Sunny grinned her inscrutable canine grin, her pink tongue protruding beyond her teeth. She was a dog and already more wise than I was about such things.

I walked Mrs. Parsall outside the barn, through the golden field back to my house. No one but she and I and the dogs ever came back here, and there was no path worn in the grass. The sun had lowered on the horizon, shining through the leaves of sugar maple trees just beginning to yellow with the coming of fall. I could still feel the warmth of the day through the dark brown cotton of my dress. If I didn’t look up at the trees, I could almost convince myself that it was still summer. Almost.

But our community was bustling with the work of autumn and the activities of harvest: younger children gathered apples from a small orchard; men drove horses with carts containing bales of hay to barns; a
group of women was busy gathering grapevines to make wreaths to sell in the English shops for Christmas.

We were a good-size settlement of Plain folk, about seventy families, spread over half a county. We had heard rumors of other Plain communities that were shrinking, owing to the youth and the spell of Rumspringa. And there were tales of other communities that grew so fast, there was no farmland for young families. But not ours. Ours had remained the same size and shape as far back as anyone could remember. There always seemed to be enough land for everyone to have at least forty acres to farm, if they wanted it.

And everyone seemed happy, unaffected by the schisms that seemed so common in other Amish settlements. The Bishop said that was because we stuck to the old ways. Everyone knew what was expected of us. There was no renegotiation of rules every time some new technology flew up a bonnet. The Ordnung was the Ordnung. Period. And we had been rewarded for following the Ordnung: there was always enough work and food and spouses and land for everyone. God provided for his people.

The pumpkin patch that my little sister tended was nearly as ripe as Sunny with distended gourds. There was one particularly large monster of a pumpkin that Sarah had a special fondness for. Twice daily she squatted beside it, whispering to it and petting it. Whatever she was doing seemed to be working — the pumpkin was easily over a hundred pounds, with another month to go before it would be severed from the vine.

Mrs. Parsall leaned against the bumper of her old blue station wagon. She pulled her keys from her pocket, gave me a one-armed hug. “You take care of yourself, kiddo.”

I grinned against her shoulder. But something dark against the blue sky caught my attention. I squinted at it, first thinking it to be a bird. But it wasn’t a bird at all.

I stepped back from Mrs. Parsall, pointing at the sky. “Look!”

A dark dot buzzed overhead, growing larger. It was a helicopter, flying so low that I could hear the whump-whump-whump of its blades. It was painted green with a white cross on the side, seeming to wobble in the blue.

Mrs. Parsall shaded her eyes with her hands, shouting to be heard above the roar. “It’s Life Flight.”

“It’s a what?”

“It’s a medical helicopter. From a hospital.”

“It shouldn’t be doing that, should it?”

“Hell, no. It — ”

The helicopter veered right and left, as if it were a toy buffered by a nonexistent tornado. The breeze today was calm, stirred by the helicopter blades and the roar. I thought I saw people inside, fighting, their silhouettes stark through a flash of window, then lost in the sun. The helicopter made a shrieking sound, the whump-whump-whump plowing through the air as it bumped and bucked. It howled over us, so close that I could have reached out and touched it if I’d been standing on the roof of our house.

Mrs. Parsall grabbed me and flung me to the ground. I shoved my bonnet back from my brow in enough time to see the helicopter spiral out of control, spinning nose over tail into a field. It vanished above tall tassels of corn.

For a couple of heartbeats, I saw nothing, heard nothing.

Then I felt the impact through my hands and the front of my ribs, bit my tongue so hard I could taste blood. Black smoke rose over the horizon.

“Oh no,” Mrs. Parsall gasped.

I scrambled to my feet, began to run. I heard Mrs. Parsall behind me, the jingle of her purse strap. I dimly registered her voice shouting into her cell phone. I ran toward the fire, across the grass. I swung myself up and over the barbed-wire fence, mindless of the scratching on my hands and in my skirt.

I plunged into the stalks of corn, taller than me, following the smell of smoke and the distant crackle of fire. I was conscious of the brittle yellow stalks tearing at me as I passed and realized that they were too flammable this far into the season. If the fire got loose in the corn, we’d have no way to stop it.

But my immediate concern was the people on the helicopter.

I ripped through the field and shoved aside blackened stalks of corn to view the site of the crash. The heat shimmered in the air, causing my eyes to tear up. I lifted my apron to cover my nose against the smell of oily smoke.

Fire seethed above me in a black and orange plume, curling around the husk of the dead helicopter. The bent and broken tail jutted out from the ground at an odd angle. The cockpit had broken open, flames streaming through the broken glass.

And I swore I saw something moving inside.

Copyright © 2012 by Laura Bickle 

About the Author:

Laura Bickle's professional background is in criminal justice and library science. When she's not patrolling the stacks at the public library, she can be found reaming up stories about the monsters under the stairs. She has written several contemporary fantasy novels for adults, and THE HALLOWED ONES is her first young adult novel. Laura lives in Ohio with her husband and five mostly-reformed feral cats. For more about Laura, please visit her website at: www.laurabickle.com.