Paranormal Romance Book: Blood Beginnings by Alison Beightol


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Virtual Book Tour Dates: 2/11/14 – 3/11/14

Genres: Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy

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Only a day after Eamon Rutherford destroys a cadre of vampire hunters sent to kill him, he decides to take his human lover Amelie to London to turn her into a vampire and look for Bernard Townsend, the vampire who sent the hunters to kill Eamon and declared a blood war on him.

This war isn’t just to settle a rivalry. It’s a war for power.

Bernard wants control of the European Shadow Government, the vampire governing board, and bring his plan to fruition, a plan that begins with the revelation of vampires to humans and ends with the domination of the human race. He knows that this will never happen as long as Eamon is alive. Bernard also knows that to get to Eamon, he has to get what he cares about most. To ensure the success, Bernard brings forward his secret offspring Reinhard Heydrich, the Butcher of Prague, who will kidnap and kill Eamon’s beloved Amelie.

Eamon must find and save Amelie before Heydrich kills her and Townsend’s plan unfolds. If he doesn’t, there is no limit to what a vampire like Heydrich might be capable of. But saving Amelie won’t be easy. Everywhere he turns he finds intrigue and deception. Even from those he trusts the most.

Excerpt:

You Don’t Declare a Blood War on Me and My Line without the Expectation of Retaliation
Kill Townsend. That was what needed to happen. And as soon as possible. Eamon Rutherford rubbed the bridge of his nose and again tried to come to grips with the events of the past twenty-four hours.

A scowl appeared on his face and the muscles of his shoul- ders knotted before he could even process anything. Eamon took in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Destroying a makeshift band of vampire hunters in his former companion’s nightclub wasn’t something he would have chosen, but he was forced to do that very thing. And it had been ages since a hunter had threatened him personally. Or tried to threaten him. The ones last night were far from what he remembered from centuries past. The group he destroyed were nerds and armchair warriors, not organized, well-practiced hunters. However, before Eamon killed one of them the hunter mentioned a name, the name of an ancient rival, Bernard Townsend.

Bernard Townsend was a half-assed, one-time knight from centuries ago, an on-again-off- again problem for Eamon. Townsend fancied himself to be more powerful than Eamon despite the age gap of many centuries. In the late seventeen hundreds, Eamon almost imposed a final death on Townsend, but at the last moment Eamon spared his rival, figuring that leaving Townsend with the humiliating knowledge that he only survived through Eamon’s mercy was enough to keep the repugnant man away once and for all.

Since that time, Townsend had avoided Eamon and any- one, human or vampire, that Eamon knew and Eamon had all but forgotten about him up until last night. And his sudden reappearance raised an alarm in Eamon’s mind. Why would Townsend send a group of poorly trained vampire hunters after him?

Eamon rose from the bed and walked to the window over- looking Amelie’s back garden. Normally, he enjoyed the col- orful, fragrant roses and oleander bushes filling the quaint yard, but not today. He rubbed his shoulders, removing some of the tension, and sighed. The phone in his pocket vibrated, but he ignored it. The vampires of his line had nagged him the better part of the day, leaching as much of his time as they could before he left. His phone had vibrated non-stop with their calls and text messages. Should the meeting of the United States Shadow Government be arranged? Could they call him while he was in London or was he serious that he wanted no contact while he was gone? The main question was when was he coming home? He wondered if he was leaving children or vampires. But that was part of being a Primigenio of a vampire line. You were a father to them and had to deal with many of the same issues as a human father.

Because of this and Bernard Townsend’s unknown motives plaguing his thoughts, Eamon had gotten little day sleep. Fortunately, at his age, he didn’t require much rest. He also had the added benefit of being a day walker, a vampire who could move about without a problem when the sun was up. It was a lucky trait the vampires of his small line carried. Eamon looked back at Amelie and remembered they were leaving soon. He sent a text message to Jason, the pilot of his private plane, and verified the departure time. Eamon didn’t want any last minute surprises or problems.

Eamon returned to the bed and kissed Amelie’s forehead. He hated to wake her, but they’d be leaving for London in a few hours. He took a moment to watch her sleep. She was snuggled up next to him with a tiny, contented smile on her lips. Whatever she was dreaming about seemed to make her happy, and he wanted that for her more than anything. He wanted her to have a life of happiness and love with him and to never have any worries. If he had his way that would always be the case.

His phone vibrated again, shattering the moment of much-needed quiet Eamon craved. He hesitated before answering, thinking it was one of his vampires trying a last minute grab for his time and attention.

Yes?” Eamon said and climbed back out of the bed.

So you killed Sanchez and his followers? I expected as much. I didn’t honestly think they would succeed but they wanted to do it.”

The caller’s voice reignited a centuries-old anger within Eamon. He paced back and forth, wanting to reach through the phone and snap the caller’s neck. It was Bernard Townsend.

Instinctually Eamon checked on Amelie, who still slept. He turned away so as not to disturb her, his rising angst causing him to grip his phone until the plastic cracked.

I’m coming for you, Townsend. You don’t declare a blood war on me and my line without the expectation of retaliation.” Eamon would rip Townsend’s throat out right now if he could, and put an end to whatever scheme Townsend was formulating.

Townsend laughed his hearty, jovial laugh. “The humans I sent after you last night were a warm up, a bit of target practice. I felt it would give you a sporting chance.”

I will find you and when I do, you’re dead,” Eamon said.

Rutherford, you’ve been a problem for me for as long as I can remember. Now, I have the advantage.”

You’re nothing but a two-bit gangster.” Eamon looked around the room, calming himself. “I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

But you didn’t, which shows how weak and short-sighted you truly are. Well, until we see each other, Eamon. And we will see each other,” Bernard said.

The sudden dial tone cooled Eamon’s ire and he withered with regret as he turned back to Amelie. Their trip to London would not be the same. Townsend would see to that. Eamon wanted the trip to be perfect for Amelie. He wanted to show her London, the city he had known for centuries, not the What’s On version of the city. For a moment, he considered not taking Amelie with him. He could find and kill Townsend and then bring her over afterward. But he knew how much she wanted to go and he wanted her to go as well. After their recent separation, he didn’t want to be away from her any longer than he had to be. No, he refused to let Townsend ruin this. After all, Eamon had waited too long for Amelie.

And he could kill Townsend at any time.

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About the Author:

Alison Beightol formerly lived in an active haunted house in rural northern Florida but now lives in a non haunted but still active house with her author husband, Scott Baker, her daughter, two ice cream craving Boxer dogs, a rescued cat that thinks he’s a dog and a rabbit. For as long as she can remember, she’s loved vampire stories, romance and gothic tales that keep her up at night. Although she works as a registered nurse, she studied both history and theatre at the University of Florida and loves intertwining history with a theatrical touch in her writing. She is the author of Blood Betrayal: Book One of The Primigenio Tales and its sequel Blood Beginnings, which introduces a sinister historical figure as an adversary for her vampires. Alison is hard at work on the third and final installment of the Primigenio Tales.

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Poetry Book: Black Rose, Wilted by Frederick Jones


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Virtual Book Tour Dates: 2/12/14 – 2/26/14

Genre: Poetry

 

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Blurb:

The Great Gothic Poet brings you writings from my very heart and soul. From my service for our awesome country to relationships gone good and wrong. These literary workings are for more than just one Genre but for ALL! Please enjoy.

Excerpt:

STARLING

In your absence

I lose persistence

I stare at the black notebook that lie

in the middle of my biege floor

challenging me

as salt watered eyes

rapidly form a river flowing down my chest

gushing out the memories

of yesterday

as Hindemith talks to me in his orchestral tone

my throne of blue I sit in

thinking only of your

memories fond and sweet

not bad ones only good

She was a camoflauged Angel

always putting all before her

placing herself last

It is her good-heartedness

and love that I gratefully received

when I lost belief

when I may have lost faith

there was that Angel

the times I felt hopeless

the time I felt careless

there was that Angel

elegantly dressed in Battle fatigue

killing the sinful things that once haunted my thoughts

disguised in digital camoflauge

with her perplex smile and

comforting hug

that lifted my spirit

and saved me from being scathed

Missed immensely

Though her presence on this plain lost

Solace has been found

As you now sit on the throne of winged saviors

Who you peacefully command

With perfect love in your heart

I look upon the clouds

As if they are your shrouds

For I know, Stephanie is always there

When in need.

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About the Author:

Born on April 6th 1970 in Ft Carson, Colorado and raised in a military Family, I have had numerous experiences that stretch across the globe. I currently live in Augusta GA where my Family settled in after my Fathers retirement from the Army. I too, am a Soldier. I have served 2 combat tours. One during Operation Desert Storm. The other from 2004-2005 for Operation Iraqi Freedom. I currently am serving in the Military with the primary function of training our Soldiers for deployment. Divorced twice, I have 3 wonderful children (Fred Jones IV, Serenity, and Kaitlyn) who are my everything! My children are and ALWAYS will be my priority. Raised in a very close Family and I am so glad. My parents; Lydia J Jones is a Brilliant teacher, and, my Father who is retired Military have made me who I am today.

My first book “Black Rose- A Book of Poems and Short Stories” was published September 29, 2010. Shortly after that in 2011 “Black Rose” was featured in the 2011 New York State Book Exhibit. Later in the year the Signed Industrial Metal music group Sonik Foundry sponsored my literary works on their 2011 Redemption tour of the southeast.

September 2012 I was presented a unique opportunity and given the job of Sci-Fi Author for Digital Lust Magazine in New York City, NY and am still writing Sci-Fi stories for them.

In 2013, The European Music Group Anything But Monday met with me and was presented a copy of “Black Rose”.

My second book “Black Rose, Wilted was published December 19 2013 and stay tuned as I have many more stories and poems soon to be published.

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Suspense: God on Trial by Sabri Bebawi @DrSabriBebawi


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Virtual Book Tour Dates: 2/4/14 – 3/4/14

Genres: Mystery, Suspense, Fiction, Philosophy

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Convinced that God is a negative force, tormenting the helpless human race, an ailing English professor becomes determined to put the deity on trial. But when he’s diagnosed with schizophrenia, he soon succumbs to the damning madness and brutally stabs and kills his wife. And in the deadly manhunt that ensues, he is ultimately shot dead by the police. This prompts his grieving sister to follow through his life’s mission to bring God to justice.

Excerpt:

He’s now back home in California. It is another night. That tantalizing sensation overtakes his natural senses again. Growing up, he always felt a sense of discomfort that was unrelated to his illnesses, and he still feels it now. He never has been able to identify the source of his severe and unusual discomfort. He wonders whether it was his family, religion in general, or society, with its unscrupulous culture.
He thinks of his parents. “Sadly, They were at odds,” he hears himself utter. “And rightfully so.”
His mother was at home, taking care of five kids, and his father was either working or endlessly playing. His mother had a tender soul. She was simple, affectionate, and caring, and loved her children dearly. The child in him sees her before him as a pretty young woman with fair skin, brown hair, and large brown eyes. She stands by his bed; she is neither too tall nor too short and neither too slim nor too heavy, but she is mysterious. Though his mother probably never knew it, she has had an immense impact on his life that continues with him until this moment of certain hallucination.
He becomes fully awake. It is 2:25 a.m. He gets up and decides to make a cup of espresso forte. After breaking a couple of coffee cups, spilling coffee all over his kitchen counter and floor, and mumbling a few expletives, he cleans up. Now he is calm; now he will taste the fruit of his coffee-making adventure; he places the cup on his desk and starts to write.

I’m not sure my parents’ odd relationship had any effect on me. I was a happy child tormented by religion and religious people’s hallucinations. I was tormented by Egyptian hypocrisy. I’ve seen a great deal of hypocrisy, child abuse, infidelity, abuse of women, and abuse by the government, churches, and mosques.

He hears the voice of his mother; during his childhood she always read to him in bed before he went to sleep. Now she reads from the Bible. In both her wisdom and lack of awareness, she reads from the Book of Genesis and the Book of Revelations. This exposure to apocalyptic writing at a very young age has had a profound effect on him.
Being imaginative, and in this phantasmagoric state, he now experiences the same fright he experienced as a child. He returns to bed and suddenly falls asleep but is soon awoken by one of his many epileptic seizures. His body shakes uncontrollably, and his tremors seem to have a mind of their own.
As his attack gradually dissipates, he thinks of the savagery of God and questions why a peaceful God would be so cruel and nasty. These thoughts make him feel even more terrified. Since childhood he has been petrified of that entity referred to as “God.”
At age seven or eight, he developed an obsessive-compulsive disorder. He’d repeat the phrase “God forgive me” to himself all day until he went to bed. He kept this a secret because he had no idea how his mother, siblings, or Zakia would react. He remembers that he often went to Zakia, who was a Muslim, and asked her to hold him. She would oblige, and he would feel protected, even from that savage God.
He gets out of bed. It is 3:42 a.m. He makes another cup of espresso forte and sits at his desk, thinking. Again he writes.

This phase simply shaped my feelings about whether God does indeed exist. I often thought I’d be better than him or her or it, for I would not be as cruel, brutal, or malicious. Today I am an agnostic, and I can’t get myself to understand why anyone would believe in such a God as depicted in the holy books, including the Bible.
In addition to the Bible, there were other sources of great damage. Egypt is an Islamic country. I was exposed to and forced to learn about Islam and its holy book, the Quran, which is like the Bible in its catastrophic content. I was forced to learn about the Islamic laws, Sharia, even though I was a Coptic. I did so in schools, and I did so in everyday affairs. I was even forced to memorize and recite verses from the Quran, which also had a negative impact on me.
The daily prayers announced over loudspeakers, and coming from all directions, were a frightening experience for me. Everywhere in Egypt, between each mosque there is a mosque, and even that wasn’t enough. The radio broadcasted Quran readings repeatedly. Even today the memory of these sounds brings a deep downheartedness to my soul.
I remember Sheikh Omar Abdel-Rahman, the blind cleric who’s in a North Carolina prison now for conspiring to commit terrorism. His mosque was right behind our house. I remember Abdel-Rahman’s Friday sermons. He’d curse the Christians, Jews, and Americans (I don’t know why he cursed Americans) publically over a loudspeaker that echoed miles away. The sheikh would scream in a screeching, deafening voice, “May God burn them and displace their children, and may God burn their houses.” The congregation would repeat, “Amen.” And the pattern would continue.
This persisted for a long time. We were so used to it, however, that it didn’t bother us much. The amazing thing is that Sheikh Abdel-Rahman was a friend of my father’s. He often visited my father at his law firm and spent hours talking with him. My father considered him a harmless, kind man.
Well, for once my father was wrong. The sheikh always has been a terrorist, and he put his evil spirit into action. Fortunately he’s in prison now. I hope he never gets out.
He stops writing for a minute and wonders how the United States allowed that savage man to enter this country. Where was American intelligence? Didn’t they know how radical Abdel-Rahman was? This was simply bizarre. But the United States government overlooks such things so often that he wonders whether the word intelligence is fitting at all.
His mind is racing, and he grows exhausted with the burden of thoughts. Hoping for a few minutes of sleep, he goes back to bed. His hope materializes, or perhaps he thinks so; at the very least, he is semi-asleep.

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About the Author:

The middle of five children, Sabri Bebawi was born in 1956 in the town of Fayoum, Egypt, where he attended law school at Cairo University. He then left Egypt for the United Kingdom. He was invited by Oxford University, where he spent some time, and never returned to Egypt. A few years later, after living and working in England, Italy, France, and Cyprus, he took refuge in the country he loved most, the United States.

In California he studied communications at California State University, Fullerton, then obtained a master’s degree there in English education. Later he worked at many colleges and universities teaching English as a second language, freshman English, journalism, and educational technology. He did further graduate work at UCLA and obtained a PhD in education and distance learning from Capella University.

Although English is his third language, he has published many works in English on eclectic topics. It has always been his ambition to write novels, and this is his first attempt. As English is a foreign language to him, the task of writing a novel has been challenging.

As a child, Bebawi struggled to make sense of religions and their contradictions; in fact he grew up terrified of the word God. As he grew older and studied law, as well as all the holy books, he developed a more pragmatic and sensible stance; the word became just that—a word.

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Speculative Fiction: Gospel For The Damned by Gordon Gravley


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Virtual Book Tour Dates: 2/17/14 – 3/17/14

Genres: Speculative/Dystopian/Literary

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Set against the backdrop of a city under quarantine, Gospel for the Damned is an episodic and introspective novel that follows young journalist Aaron Garrett on his three day assignment within sequestered San Francisco. His assignment: Interview The Elliots, family of the missing minister suspected of releasing the deadly Omega virus.

What he finds is a fractured community and a myriad of ways of facing hopelessness: clinging to normalcy in banal routines; thrill seeking in dangerous truth-or-dare games; mercy killing and federally sanctioned euthanasia; embracing sorrow through macabre celebrations; and searching for God where faith has been abandoned.

Together with The Elliot Family, Aaron embarks on a mission to save someone, anyone, from a doomed existence.

This is Gordon Gravley’s first literary work, and its philosophical leanings may very well provoke questions of your own about the world we live in, and the future we face.

Excerpt:

It was an opportunity that would make my career or crumble it, and I’d like to say it came to me by way of my diligence and journalistic talent. But truthfully, I was given the assignment for the simple reason that I was the only one on staff at the Sound who tested as resistant to the Omega virus; it was my luck to be in the 2 percent of the nation immune to a disease that, to date, had wiped out a third of the West Coast’s population.

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About the Author:

After decades of self-doubt and errant life choices, Gordon Gravley finally came to write this, his first novel, and is now diligently working on his next two. He and his wife currently reside in the Northwestern United States.

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Fiction: Las Hechizadas by Anne Garcia


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Virtual Book Tour Dates: 1/29/14 – 2/12/14

Genres: Literature, Fiction

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When Juan Romero decides to visit his Abuela in Aguas Puras he doesn’t realize the magical healing powers that exist in the high mountain valley. His journey to reconnect with his family’s past transforms his life and the lives of generations to follow. He becomes involved in a battle to save the valley from a multinational mining company and the struggle threatens to destroy “Las Hechizadas,” or healing women, and their way of life. Twenty years later his sister, Silvia, makes her way from the U.S. to again discover the secrets of her family’s past, but in contrast to her brother what she learns finally sets the universe straight and the women of the valley are once again in balance. Anne Garcia weaves her own experiences of living in South America into this magical novel that connects us all to the extraordinary women of the valley of Aguas Puras.

Excerpt:

Sofia arrived just as the altar was receiving its final touches. Those who are not familiar with altars often think of them as objects of pagan rituals, however, an altar is a personal sacred space where anyone can offer and receive blessings. In this case, it was a family altar, welcoming not only Sofia, as a new member, but the unborn child into the family. Abuela had built it around the same base her great-great grandmother had made and that had been used for each generation since. The path leading to the altar was aligned with stars. Each woman who attended the ceremony to welcome the new child placed a gift at the base of the altar decorated with photos of several generations of children, interwoven with daffodils, bring the higher powers to bless the child. A loaf of bread to stave off hunger, a bottle of wine to attract everlasting joy and laugher and, stems of birds of paradise to attract creative energy were only some of the many offerings Sofia was led to the front of the altar and seated on a hand painted stool. Abuela began o light the candles made with Echinacea extract to boost Sofia’s immune system. The other women hummed a calming melody and circled Sofia. No one knew what she was asking for or thinking, but it was none of their business so they didn’t wonder. When Abuela was done she took a glass jar from her bag and smeared a lavender salve on Sofia’s forehead. The blessing was to pass Abuela’s knowledge on her grandchild. Again, her secret desire for a girl reappeared. What she didn’t know was that Sofia, too, wanted a daughter. She placed a crown on Sofia’s head and the women left her alone to present her own offerings and prayers.

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 Buy Link:

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About the Author:

I am a bilingual teacher and author in Colorado. Writing and reading has always been my passion and as part of my teaching I have documented my thinking as the years have passed. I have written one professional development book for ESL teachers and contributed to a book on comprehension strategy work. Currently I am working on a title that documents the importance of partnerships between community-based organizations and schools. In my free time I also write fiction. My first novel, Las Hechizadas, is available in paper book and on Kindle. I am also writing two new bilingual children’s books.

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