Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Kiss and Tell Tour: Tastes of Love and Evil by Barbara Monajem

This 9 day, 9 author virtual book tour is presented by Bewitching Book Tours.

You can see the tour schedule by clicking HERE.
Welcome back to The Wormhole and The Kiss and Tell Tour!
I am pleased to present:
Tastes of Love and Evil by Barbara Monajem

Rose Fairburn is on the run. Her vampire nature can’t protect her from everything, especially not herself. Now, when she should be worried about escaping her past, she can only think about one thing.  Her kind can’t live without blood or sex. Love they must forego.

Jack Tallis can slake her thirst. Tall. Handsome. Trustworthy. And not a man alive can resist a vamp’s allure. But…Jack can. And he has other secrets, like why underworld hit men are on his trail.  How he can vanish into thin air. Love suddenly seems possible, but the shadows hide mysteries darker than Rose can even dream, and all will be revealed in the fetish clubs of one strange Louisiana town….

Barbara Monajem wrote her first story in third grade about apple tree gnomes. After dabbling in neighborhood musicals and teen melodrama, she published a middle-grade fantasy when her children were young. Now her kids are adults, and she's writing historical and paranormal romance for grownups. She lives in Georgia with an ever-shifting population of relatives, friends, and feline strays.

Twitter: @BarbaraMonajem
...and now, to fill your need to read...
The room was empty.

No, it just appeared to be. “I told you there was no one here.” Her nostrils quivering, every sense alert, Rose scanned the bed, the curtains, the embroidered mantle draped on a chair, the Elizabethan gown on the luggage cart. “Now get out of my room!”

The gunman ignored her, ducking in and out of the bathroom, glancing into the closet, going efficiently through every hiding place. Warmer, cried Rose’s senses, warmer, warmer, damn, oh God please no, as he shoved past the luggage cart to the window, and then as he returned, colder, warmer, colder, where the hell is the man? One-handed, the fake fed lifted the mattress and box spring, but no one as concealed underneath.

Sirens cried in the distance, and a second later the gunman’s phone squawked a warning.  He left without looking back.  Rose retrieved her breakfast, double-locked the door, and scanned the room. Aha. She’d seen this phenomenon once before. She knew Random Man was in the room, somewhere near the window. “They’ve gone,” she said softly. “You can come out now. You need to have that wound tended.”

Nothing. Where was he? 
“I brought coffee and doughnuts.” She put the food on the table. “I’d be happy to share, once we’ve patched you up.” Pause. “I know you’re here. I can hear you breathing.” 


“I can smell you,” Rose said, her voice rising, tendrils of allure escaping. You and your blood. “I’m here to help, you fool!”

Still nothing. Or maybe…a faint shimmer, like heat rising in summer air, over on the luggage cart, right by the Elizabethan gown. Damn it, thought Rose. If he stains that costume… Anger coupled with the aroma of blood overwhelmed her senses, and her fangs slotted down.  Purposely this time, she directed her allure toward the luggage cart. Another shimmer, instantly controlled, and then absolute stillness.  No more pussyfooting around. She smiled and sent a wave of allure crashing across the room. Random Man resolved into view, gold and tan and brown blending with the dress, then gradually reacquiring his own muted shape and colors, blue denims and Saints jacket, nondescript but definitely all there.

“God help me,” Random Man said. “Not another vamp.”


***Stop back tonight to see my review!***

Kiss and Tell Blog Tour: Karen McCullough

This 9 day, 9 author virtual book tour is presented by Bewitching Book Tours.
You can see the entire schedule by clicking HERE.
Welcome to The Wormhole and the Kiss and Tell Tour!
It is my pleasure to present: Karen McCullough

Magic, Murder and Microcircuits by Karen McCullough

A powerful wizard with a physics degree and a checkered past invents a shield to

ensure he'll never again be tortured almost to death…

The wizarding powers-that-be fear the repercussions of such a device and send his

former girlfriend, an accomplished wizard herself, to retrieve the device or destroy it…

When the shield is stolen by the magical mafia, Ilene McConnell and Michael Morgan have to set aside their differences and work together to recover it. Michael claims he needs the device as insurance against the kind of injury and injustice he suffered once before. Ilene maintains its potential to upset the delicate balance of power makes it too dangerous and that it needs to be destroyed. But none of that will matter if
they can’t retrieve it before a ruthless, powerful wizard learns how to use it for his own ends.
Author bio:

Karen McCullough is the author of ten published novels in the mystery, romantic

suspense, and fantasy genres and has won numerous awards, including an Eppie

Award for fantasy. She’s also been a four-time Eppie finalist, and a finalist in the Prism, Dream Realm, Rising Star, Lories, Scarlett Letter, and Vixen Awards contests. Her short fiction has appeared in several anthologies and numerous small press publications in the fantasy, science fiction, and romance genres. Her most recent releases are MAGIC, MURDER AND MICROCIRCUITS, a paranormal romantic suspense now available in most electronic formats, A GIFT FOR MURDER, published in hardcover by Five Star/Gale Group Mysteries, and the re-released ebook of A QUESTION OF FIRE. She invites visitors to check out her home on the web at and her site for the Market Center Mysteries series,

Web links:


...and for your reading pleasure...
 an excerpt:

Ilene smelled magic as she drove onto the bridge—a combination that included scents of sandalwood and nutmeg plus a sharper tinge of ozone. Michael’s magic. The aroma roused a trail of memories and evoked the same visceral reaction now that it had twelve years ago. Her pulse sped up and her stomach twisted with longing. Stupid, stupid. She was over him. Had been for years.

She sniffed again, more deeply, as a subtle wrong note in the smell penetrated her awareness. A fainter aroma of burnt coffee grounds mingled in. That wasn’t Michael’s magic, but there shouldn’t be another wizard on the island.  She glanced up through the windshield. Hazy, yellow-orange streaks of warding
floated above. Michael’s scrying system. Could it identify her specifically or did it just warn him that someone with power approached? How would he react if he did know it was her? Throw her off the island, most likely, and tell her not to come back. She planned to stay only long enough to deliver the letter from her father and get the information the Council needed, anyway.

A group of cyclists peddled ahead of her on the bridge, dragging her attention back to the road while she negotiated around them. The bikers all had packs hooked to their bikes and strapped on their backs. They spread out across more than half of the two lane width. They had to be sweltering in the August North Carolina heat, but they waved cheerfully as she passed them in the left lane.  At the crest of the bridge she caught a glimpse of her destination.

She’d been told Michael Morgan’s home was the largest house on the island and sat on the only piece of high ground. The hulking Victorian-style mansion fit the bill on both counts. No light-colored paint or gingerbread trim softened its stolid proportions, harsh angles, and weathered-dark cedar siding. The place would make a perfect setting for one of those old fashioned Gothic romances she occasionally picked up in a used bookstore. Of course, no one but another wizard would see the colorful swirls of magic drifting around it. She could only spare time for a quick glance around, but it was enough to find the signs of a different power in the shading of green to the south.  She lost sight of both house and olive streaks as she headed down toward land.  Enormous, twisted live oaks, bearded with Spanish Moss, lined the road, interspersed with the occasional Palmetto palm. Modest, low houses stood well back from the pavement behind the trees. They lazed indifferently in the sweltering heat and humidity, not feeling the prickle of the warding magic that sensed her. Seconds later a different wave of magic hit her.

More accurately, it slammed into her Toyota as a gale-force wind, sending it veering off to the left, almost into the front yard of the closest house. Fortunately her reflexes clicked in before her brain could recover from the shock. She twisted the wheel and barely missed a Palmetto palm whose leaves sat still and calm except where the breeze of the car’s passing made them flap. Just when she thought she’d regained control, the wind struck again, from the opposite side, and she struggled to keep the car from rolling off the other way.

Turbulent air changed direction from moment to moment, pushing the car one way and then another in an erratic pattern. For some moments Ilene could only clutch the steering wheel, fingers digging into the leather surface, holding on tightly to keep it steady. The tires lost traction and started to skid. She turned into it, allowing her to regain control just before she hit the nearest live oak. Her door scraped against a low branch as she swerved back onto the pavement. The force continued to batter at the car, however, pushing it to the left even as she fought to keep it in the right lane.  This was some kind of welcome to the island. Maybe Michael did recognize her.  This magic didn’t smell like his, but it had been twelve years…

With hands locked tightly on the steering wheel, she tried to get a feel for the power assaulting her, seeking a way to block it or turn it aside. She gathered her own power to answer until she realized she dared not pull enough of her concentration away from controlling the car.

The vehicle veered into the other lane and began to fishtail. Someone really didn't want her on the island. The Toyota did a one-eighty, ending up moving in the opposite direction, back toward the inlet and the bridge. Seconds later, the span loomed ahead. The pack of cyclists was just rolling off it, coming toward her, spread out across the road. A driveway ahead offered a place to turn around, but as she braked to swing into it, another blast of force jolted the car, and the tires lost traction again. The Toyota began to slide along the pavement at an angle. Panic sucked all the air from her lungs when she realized the cyclists were dead ahead...


Amazon Kindle Edition:


Nook Edition:


Order from Smashwords:
***Come back to see my review later today!***

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Kiss and Tell Blog Tour: Mina Khan

This 9 author, 9 day virtual book tour is presented by Bewitching Book Tours.
You can see an entire tour schedule by clicking HERE.
Welcome to The Wormhole and The Kiss and Tell Tour!
It is my pleasure to present Mina Khan
The Djinn's Dilemma by Mina Khan
Book Blurb:

Rukh O'Shay, half-djinn and assassin, is used to taking out the bad guys. But his latest assignment, Texas Journalist Sarah White, is nothing like he expected. A glimpse of her bright aura reveals her gentle spirit, while her beauty makes him long for only one thing—to taste her.

Sarah shares the raw desire to connect with Rukh. He can turn her on with a glance, and satisfies needs she didn't even know she had.

But Rukh had been hired to kill her—and the only way to save her is to find out who wants her dead before someone else finishes the job….

Author Bio:

Mina Khan is a Texas-based writer and food enthusiast. She daydreams of hunky paranormal heroes, magic, mayhem and mischief and writes them down as stories. Between stories, she teaches culinary classes and writes for her local newspaper. Other than that, she's raising a family of two children, two cats, two dogs and a husband.

She grew up in Bangladesh on stories of djinns, ghosts and monsters. These childhood fancies now color her fiction.

You can find her at:

...and for your reading pleasure...

Oh heaven and hell, stop with the tears. Given the day Sarah had just had, the tears were logical. But watching her face crumple, hearing the gut-deep harsh sobs, filled Rukh with an irrational need to pull her into his arms, wrap her in a hug.

As soon as the urge had gelled into conscious thought, his essence hardened into visibility and his arms slid up around her shivering, wet body.

Sarah’s eyes popped open and she staggered back with a yell.

His arms tightened around her, steadying her, keeping her close. Well, shit. At least, she’d stopped crying.

Fear-bright green eyes stared at him instead.

Given he was an assassin, sent to kill her, her response was natural, even intelligent. Yet, bitterness churned in his gut at the thought of her fearing him. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”

“Am I hallucinating?” Her question came out as a croak.

“Yes, yes you are.” That seemed a much better answer than the truth.

She pinned him with her dark, direct gaze. “You’re just a figment of my imagination. A fantasy?” “Yes.” He didn’t dare move.

“Then why are you still wearing clothes?”

He made the clothes disappear and stood there as naked as her. Skin against skin, the heat from her body melted into his. Warm water washed over them like rain.
...and for your viewing pleasure...
Gotta have it?  Check out these buy links!
Book is Available At:


Barnes & Noble


Kiss and Tell Tour: A Deadly Whisper by Stacey Kennedy

The Virtual Book Tour is hosted by Bewitching Book Tours.
You can see more information by clicking HERE.
You can read my review of Deadly Whisper by clicking HERE.
Welcome to The Wormhole and my day on the tour!
Please welcome Stacey Kennedy!

Stacey Kennedy’s novels are lighthearted fantasy with heart squeezing, thigh-clenching romance, and even give a good chuckle every now and again. But within the stories you’ll find fast paced action, life threatening moments and a big bad villain that needs to be destroyed. Her urban fantasy/paranormal and erotic romance series have hit Amazon Kindle and All Romance Ebooks Bestseller lists. If she isn’t plugging away at her next novel, tending to her two little ones, she’s got her nose deep in a good book. She lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband.

Be sure to drop her a line at, Facebook and Twitter, she loves to hear from her readers.

Will destiny be enough to break her free of a lifetime of secrets?

Knox, the Seeker, has waited two hundred years for his Watcher and now he’s found her. Paxtyn, however, is unwilling to join him. The more he tries to prove himself to her, the more she pushes him away.
Paxtyn has spent a lifetime keeping her secret hidden from the world, but now, she must confront these deadly visions head on. When a string of murders brings her into New Orleans, she must come to terms with her personal demons and use her gift to communicate with spirits to discover who has ended their lives.
*WARNING:  Explicit sex between a sassy Watcher and a sexy Seeker, and a ceremony that will certainly raise eyebrows!
There was nothing odd about the woman in her late twenties. Her look was exactly what you’d expect in downtown Cincinnati—chic. She wore clothing that looked more like something off the runways in New York than from around here—her high stilettos were fantastically
matched with her cute rose cocktail dress. The black lace shawl wrapped around her shoulders indicated it was chilly, but being that it was June, Paxtyn knew it was more for show than anything else.
And she could appreciate the look. But at the same time, she wished the woman had decided on different footwear. Then, those fantastic heels wouldn’t be about to go to waste.
Paxtyn’s hands closed around the chair as she prepared herself for what she was about to see. Her visions of the past always came the same.
She knew what the outcome would be and it wouldn’t be a good one.
Normally, watching the moment a life was lost was hard for her, but tonight, it was more than that, it was gut-wrenching. The woman looked so much like her—athletic. Even her shoulder-length curly hair was the same, except were hers was jet black; Paxtyn’s was strawberry blonde. But the one thing this woman didn’t have was Paxtyn’s turquoise
How many times had she heard “you have the most beautiful eyes”?
The line had run its course and she was sick to death of hearing it. The woman stopped at the curb, digging into her last season’s Gucci handbag and pulled out a cell phone as the street light beamed down. A smile grazed her face as she apparently received a text of interest. She raised her head, looking quickly, waiting for a moment to cross. When the cars cleared, she stepped off the curb, not bothering to look up as she continued to dawdle on her cell phone.
Paxtyn wanted to stand up from her chair, yell to this woman to stop, bang on the window for her to not move, but it was pointless. There was nothing she could do for her.
Within three steps, the life of this woman was forever changed.
A loud screech of the car’s tires, followed by a terrified scream, then the woman was about to discover those Christian Louboutin heels were going to be the only thing left of her.
She really didn’t have a chance. The car was going too fast for her to survive.
The moment the wheels locked, the woman’s ghost stood next to her broken body, shocked, scared and confused. The man who’d hit her jumped out of the car and, when he saw her body, smiled gloriously.
Paxtyn shuddered. Who smiled at such a thing?
Dying wasn’t how everyone thought it was. There wasn’t a flash of golden light with the soul drifting off to heaven. Most times, the spirit stayed, lingered. Couldn’t comprehend what had happened to them. And Paxtyn had witnessed moments of the past just like this a thousand times over.
“Earth to Pax,” Tate said loudly, snapping his fingers, completely unaware of the horror Paxtyn had just seen.
She glanced away from the window, but before she met his gaze, she did what she always did, found the smile to hide it all. “Sorry.” She laughed, but even to her it sounded shaky. The name was Paxtyn really, but Tate opted for the shorter form and she never minded.
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were a nut,” Tate said.
She laughed in agreement. He was right, if he did know her better, he’d believe such a thing. But he probably knew her the best out of anyone. Brought together at a welcoming party in their early days at the University of Cincinnati, they’d immediately hit it off.
A guy like Tate wasn’t to be passed over, and she hadn’t hesitated to try to snatch him up. It wasn’t his all-star bod, or his captivating baby blues, even those luscious lips that presently smiled at her that first caught her eye. It was his kind heart and loyalty. He was about as damn solid of a guy as she’d ever met.
They’d gone a round of it once after a blasted drunken night at a sorority shindig, but the next day, they’d woke up in bed, naked, and laughed. That was the end to anything romantic between them.
But what they had was better. Stronger. She could count on Tate for just about anything and there was no one else in the world who loved her more. Now, their relationship had blossomed into something found between a brother and sister. That was Tate, her protector.
Who just so happened to give her ear a flick. “Fuck, girl! Maybe you shouldn’t drink anymore.”
“I’m fine,” she said, grimacing from the throb of her ear lobe and shot him a look. It usually didn’t take this long to snap out of one of her horror moments.
She took a big gulp to drink away the sight of what she’d witnessed and kept drinking till the buzz settled in. Wasn’t ever a gift to see such horrible things, but one she saw often. Mom and Pa, back in Wyoming, had spent thousands on her as a child on testing and treatments to find out what was wrong with her. Why, as a child, she’d say that she was watching people die. She still couldn’t imagine what was going through their heads, knowing their child had this disability. But by the time she reached twelve, she realized it was best to keep her mouth shut. It ended the doctor appointments and saved her from being medicated or institutionalized.
Now, it was just something she lived with—suffered through. So, she put on her normal face and glanced around the pub. The crowd tonight was loud, as was the band blasting out the soft rock beats.
The O’Bryons Irish Pub had been their life while they’d bunkered down at University, and she guessed it had stuck with them, because they still came here every Friday night. Of course, it had only been two years since they’d completed their degrees so they really hadn’t had much time to grow and move on.
Tate, with his BS in Criminal Justice, had found a job right out of college with the Cincinnati Police Department. Paxtyn had majored in Business. Basically, because she liked the idea of being locked in an office where she could stare at blank walls and not have to look out windows or be anywhere she might have a vision.
When she’d seen the ad for Financial Specialist at the Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce, she’d jumped on it and, with some luck, she’d actually gotten it. Now, she spent her days glued to a computer, lost in numbers. As much as the job got to her, became a total bore, she couldn’t
really complain—it paid well.
Tate worked three times as hard as she did and his pay was nowhere in the numbers as hers.
“Looks like you have an admirer,” Tate said, drawing her back from her thoughts.
Paxtyn followed his gaze to see that she was in fact being watched, and the moment she met the man’s gaze she was locked in.
He sat off to the far side of the bar with a glass of brandy in front of him. He was older than the others in the pub, but it didn’t make him look out of place—it made him look distinguished. He wore a black dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves with the front unbuttoned showing a bit of smooth chest. His finger slowly rimmed the edge of the glass as his gaze was glued with hers. And those eyes were mesmerizing. Grey with a dark-steeled edge to them. But that seemed to be his thing.
He was all edge—hard and extreme. His features were made up of straight lines, including the squared jaw, high predominant cheek bones, perfectly shaped lips and even his mocha hair was buzzed with a hard look.
Tate knocked Paxtyn’s arm a good one. “Drool much.”
“Over him?” She nodded toward the hunk. “Doubt it.”
“Sure you weren’t.”
Thanks for stopping by The Wormhole!
Happy Reading!!!

Monday, November 28, 2011

Cyber Monday Giveaway Blitz

This Giveaway Blitz is presented by Bewitching Book Tours.
Welcome to The Wormhole and this Giveaway Blitz!
There are 2 prize packs and 5 e-books being given away.  Enter by filling out the form below!
In the prize packs:
 A print copy of 2MOS

A canvas bag
A Pavarti T-Shirt
A copy of Hush Hush in one Fallen in the other
Shadow on the Wall Collectible Magnet
Shadow on the Wall Note Cards
Fighting Monkey Press Note Pad
Shadow on the Wall promotional post card

Follow Pavarti’s : Blog   FaceBook   Twitter
Thanks for stopping by The Wormhole!
Good luck in the giveaway and happy reading!

Meet Rebecca McKinnon ~~~ be sure to check these out!

Rebecca McKinnon has spent her life in a world filled with books. Her best friends include Bekka Cooper, Lady Katsa, Will Stanton and Ron Weasley. She currently lives near Salt Lake City with her husband, three kids and a cat. To learn more about Rebecca, visit

Annexed: The Refuge Trilogy: Book 1 by Rebecca McKinnon

Amazon Product Description:
Friends or family?
Desire or responsibility?
She thought she’d made her choice.

Now, finding herself trapped in a world splintered from her own, Narissa is determined to return home. Learning that the means of crossing between realities has been lost, she vows to find the elusive gateway.

Narissa doesn’t plan to make friends. She certainly doesn’t intend to fall in love.

Faced with the decision, will she choose the life she wants, or return to the world where she belongs?

Cantrip: The Refuge Trilogy: Book 2 by Rebecca McKinnon

Amazon Product Description:
She spent the summer in The Refuge.
Now, she’s come home.
Within days she realizes:
She wants back in.

Only two things stand in her way. The sister Narissa has protected for years can’t decide if she wants to go with her. And, of course, Narissa has no idea how to return to the splinter reality.

Complicating matters, Narissa discovers she can no longer avoid the problems her unexpected trip allowed her to escape.

Through it all, there’s one thing that keeps her going. She’s not the only person to have left The Refuge.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Blog Tour: Unnatural Law: Darwin's Children 2 by Natasha Larry

This virtual book tour is presented by Bewitching Book Tours.
Click HERE to see the entire tour schedule.
Welcome to The Wormhole and my day on the tour!
It is my pleasure to feature Natasha Larry!
Natasha Larry resides in Huntsville, Alabama with her daughter and fiancĂ©. She graduated from Tusculum College with a B.A. in History and is currently working on getting her certificate in education. Apart from writing, she is a self-proclaimed comic book nerd and urban fantasy junkie. Her poetry and short fiction has appeared in publications such as Writing Edge magazine and Escaping Elsewhere. Darwin’s Children is her first work of novel length fiction.
Want to know more about her?  
She has granted me an interview!
? When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer? Well, I started writing when I was a kid, but I don’t think I ever wanted  to be a writer until I started this series. So,  in my late twenties =)
? How many jobs did you have before you became a writer? Dozens. My favorite of which was teaching American History.
? How long does it take you to write a book? Anywhere  from three  weeks,  to over a month, depending on whether or not I have to put any thought into it.  I started Unnatural Law as soon as I finished Darwin’s Children. It took five weeks to finish it because it was piecing together a puzzle carefully. Darwin’s Children took a month, and that story just wrote itself. I miss those days…
? What would you say is your most interesting writing quirk? People seem to be really amazed that I don’t use an outline, but I ‘d have to go with sharpie markers. My publisher is rightfully appalled by the fact that I write my first draft in sharpie. It’s the pretty colors I think…
? Do you have a routine that you use to get into the right frame of mind to write? Coffee, a good graphic novel, a can of markers  and a nice journal. Music doesn’t hurt either.
? Where do you get your ideas or inspiration for your characters? People in my everyday life mostly. I tweaked personalities, and added some characteristics from some of my favorite superheroes, but mostly my friends and family serve as the inspiration for my characters. I can’t think of anything more inspiring than the people in my life. As for ideas, they either fall into my head or come to me from my characters, I know that sounds weird. =) 
? How do you decide what you want to write about? Hmmm, I don’t think  I really decide what I’m going to write about. Young adult-Paranormal fiction is the last genre I expected to be writing in, so I’ve  decided none of this is really up to me.
? What books have most influenced your life? There are so many. Kingdom Come, Frank Miller’s Batman series,  and anything by Judy Blume. Oh, and my favorite book as a kid was Where the Wild Things Are. I actually still love that book. “Oh, please don’t go! We’ll eat you up! We love you so..”
? What is the first book you remember reading by yourself? A short story collection by Edgar Allen Poe. That was when I was seven or something? Eight? Eh, I don’t remember how old I was.
? What are you reading right now? Burned  by Ellen Hopkins
? What do you like to do when you are not writing? Well, I have a three year old that is not yet in school, so I do a lot of running around like a crazy person. I love hanging out with the kid though, she’s very awesome.
? What is your favorite comfort food? Gummy bears.
? What do you think makes a good story? Yesh, hard one. I think that the best stories challenge the reader in some way: challenge your sense of morality, challenge how you define love or something to that effect. I also love a story with memorable quotes.
? Who would you consider your favorite author and why? Another hard one. Judy Blume is the author that instilled a love of reading in me, so I have to say her. Overall, though, I’d go with Frank Miller.
? What book, if any, do you read over and over again? Batman: Year One
Fun random questions: 
  • dogs or cats? Dogs. I think cats are kind of evil.
  • Coffee or tea? Coffee please!
  • Dark or milk chocolate? Milk chocolate
  • Rocks or flowers? LoL, this question threw me off a bit. Um, rocks!
  • Night or day? Night
  • Favorite color? Blue
  • Crayons or markers? Markers
  • Pens or pencils? Pens

Friday, November 25, 2011

Blog Tour: The Chosen by Sheenah Freitas (Giveaway too!)

This Virtual Blog Tour is presented by Bewitching Book Tours.
You can see the entire tour schedule by clicking HERE.
Welcome to The Wormhole and my day on the tour.
It is my pleasure to feature author Sheenah Freitas!
Author Bio:
A neek at heart, Sheenah Freitas has a love for the whimsical and magical. She looks to animated Disney movies and Studio Ghibli films for inspiration because of the innovative twists on fairytales, strong story structures and character studies. When not writing, you might find her in a forest where she’s yet to find any enchanted castles.
 Find her online:
Twitter: @SheenahFreitas
Guest post from Sheenah!

I think music is critical to anything. It really helps set the tone and it’s something that everyone can relate to. I’ve compiled a playlist that I listened to while I was writing The Chosen and the music has to deal with the tone of a scene or I used it as a theme song of sorts for a character, a relationship, or how they might be feeling at a given time. And I think there might be a song or two that relates to something that happens in a future book, but I really enjoyed it and it helped me reach the end. This is part two of my playlist. Part one was posted JeanzBookReadNReview, earlier during my tour. Hope you enjoy!
2.     This is War/100 Suns — 30 Seconds to Mars
3.     Audience of One — Rise Against
4.     You Run Away — Barenaked Ladies
5.     Maybe — Ingrid Michaelson
7.     Farewell — Alan Menken
8.     Love Remains the Same — Gavin Rossdale

The Giveaway!  One commenter will win an ecopy of The Chosen (blurb below). Must be at least 13 years old and leave a valid email address.  The winner will be chosen by on November 30, 2011.


Kaia’s entire life has erupted in flames after an assassin appears and burns her village down.

She’s rescued by a god from another planet who requests her help because she’s the descendant of their last savior.

Together with Reeze — the only other survivor from her village and her appointed guardian — they set off on a quest to find the treasures of the gods in hopes of preventing a dire prophesy.

Kaia and Reeze quickly meet the Tueors, a group of people many thought extinct, who are searching specifically for Kaia.

Their intention: to protect the truth. As Kaia discovers more about the truth and her family’s past, she also learns of the Tueors’ bloody secret.

Will Kaia be the savior the gods have been waiting for? Or will she let the
prophesy come true?

Buy links:

Thursday, November 17, 2011

2012 TBR Pile Challenge!

This challenge is hosted by Roof Beam Reader.
The Goal: To finally read 12 books from your “to be read” pile (within 12 months).
I participated (and failed miserably at) this challenge in 2011.  Although there are still months left in 2011 - I know that there is no way I can finish my list and have resigned myself to the knowledge that I FAILED at this one, so.....I will try again in 2012.  I have moved many of my 2011 list to my 2012 list in hopes that the coming year will provide me with the opportunity to move them from the TBR stack to the Read and Reviewed stack.  Wish me luck!
Here is my list:
1. The City of Bones by Cassandra Clare
2. Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater (have ALL her books, been to two signings and still this series is wasting away on the TBR in hopes of seeing the R & R stack).
3. Fallen by Lauren Kate
4. Hush Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick
5. Nightshade by Andrea Cremer
6. Howl's Moving Castle by Diane Wynne Jones
7. Glass Houses by Rachel Caine
8. Betrayed by P. C. Cast
9. Chosen by P. C. Cast
10. Darkness Becomes Her by Kelly Keaton
11. Vesper by Jeff Sampson
12. The Darkest Night by Gena Showalter (another FAILED challenge read)

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Gratitude Giveaway Hop!

The Gratitude Giveaway hop is hosted at I Am A Reader, Not A Writer and All-Consuming Books.
There are over 300 blogs participating.  
The stop before mine is: 273.BTween Prose - YA book giveaway (US) 
You are at stop #274. Beverly @ The Wormhole (US) 
The next stop is 275.Fictional Distraction (Int).
You can get to the ENTIRE tour linky by clicking HERE.

Blog Tour: Deadly Pursuit by Nina Croft

Deadly Pursuit: Blood Hunter Book 2 by Nina Croft

Amazon Product Description:
Breaking assassin Jonathon Decker out of a maximum security prison on Trakis One seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, pursued across space by the two most powerful factions in the universe, the crew of El Cazador are having second thoughts. They'd like to give him back. Unfortunately, that no longer seems an option.
Jon is used to working alone. Now, he's stuck on the space cruiser El Cazador until he can work out just what he's supposed to know that puts him on everybody's most-wanted-dead list. He s not happy that the crew includes a runaway priestess with designs on his virtue such as it is. Jon likes women, but he gave up the role of protector a long time ago, and Alexia, High Priestess of the Church of Everlasting Life, is an accident waiting to happen.
After twenty-four excruciatingly boring years of doing her duty, Alex is finally having some fun. She never meant to run away it was a rash impulse and she means to go back eventually. But first, she's going to squeeze enough excitement out of the situation to last her a lifetime. And what could be more exciting than a stunningly gorgeous werewolf?
Meanwhile, the Church are chasing their missing priestess, and the Collective are pursuing their escaped assassin. Being hunted has never been more deadly...or more fun.

Welcome to The Wormhole and my day with Nina Croft and Deadly Pursuit!

Nina Croft grew up in the north of England. After training as an accountant, she spent four years working as a volunteer in Zambia which left her with a love of the sun and a dislike of 9-5 work. She then spent a number of years mixing travel (whenever possible) with work (whenever necessary) but has now settled down to a life of writing and picking almonds on a remote farm in the mountains of southern Spain.

And now for your reading excerpt!
Twenty-four years ago...
     A pair of sickle moons hung low in the sky, casting a sullen, bloodred glow insufficient to light the path. High priest Hezrai Fischer swore under his breath as he tripped over a tree root and only just prevented himself from sprawling on the ground in an undignified heap.
     "How much further?" he snapped.
     "Not far now, my Lord," the guide murmured soothingly. He'd been saying the same words for the last hour.
     The procession wound its way up a steep track cut into the side of a mountain, on what had to be the most godforsaken planet in the known universe. Sweat soaked his robes, and every muscle ached from the unusual exercise. "Why here?" he asked the world in general. "Why couldn't she have been born on some nice, civilized planet?"
     "God works in mysterious ways," Sister Martha spoke softly from beside him.
     Sanctimonious bitch.
     He gritted his teeth as the words hovered on his lips. Personally, he would have preferred a little less mystery and a little more common sense from God. Biting back the blasphemous thought, he peered sideways at his companion. She had no trouble maneuvering up the track, seeming to glide in her long, black robes. her face was serene; only the subdued glow in her eyes hinted at her excitement.
     Left to him, he would have chosen a different companion. Sister Martha always set his teeth on edge, but as the head of the Order of the Sisters of Everlasting Life, it would be her duty to take charge of the new priestess. He hadn't been able to think of a reasonable excuse to leave her behind.
     The old High Priestess had died a month ago. They had immediately sent out seekers to all the inhabited planets to search for the new vessel; a baby girl born at the exact moment of the old priestess's death into whom the holy spark would have been transferred.
     "We're here, my Lord."
     "Here" appeared to be a tiny hovel. Dull orange light flickered from the single window. He smoothed his robes, raised his fist, and banged on the wooden door.
     It was opened seconds later by one of the brothers. "My Lord."
     Hezrai nodded brusquely. "They know we are coming? Have they agreed?"
     "Yes, my Lord. For one thousand credits, they will hand over the child."
     "They should hand her over for the glory of the Church," he snarled.
     "They are not members, my Lord, but they are poor."
     Hezrai detected a slight censure in the words; he'd ignore it for now, but made a mental note of the man's name. "Let's get this over with."
     He followed the brother into the house, though 'house' was an ambitious word for the single, dingy space he found himself in. The air held a sharp, sour smell, and he wrinkled his nose.
     At the far side of the room, a man and a woman huddled together. The man held a baby in his arms.
     "At last," Hezrai muttered. Perhaps now they could finish this and get back to civilization. he stepped closer and peered down at the baby. He didn't know much about babies, and wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but some sense of holiness at the very least.
     "Are we sure?" It was an ugly, little thing with a squashed up face, strange gray eyes rimmed with black, and a shock of dark red hair. Hezrai frowned. "Has there ever been a red-haired priestess?"
     "Not that I remember." Sister Martha sounded dubious. "Can we see the sign?"
     The father parted the robes. A purple birthmark showed clearly on her right thigh in the perfect shape of a cross.
     Hezrai nodded. It was enough for him. "Make the transfer."
     He waited, tapping his foot on the rough wood floor, trying to ignore the stench of the place. Finally, the transaction was complete. "Right then...Get the girl and let's go."
     The parents hadn't said a word, but now the mother stepped forward. "Please, I don't - "
     Her husband halted her with a hand on her arm. "Shut up, Lisa. There'll be other babies."
     "But - "
     "We discussed this. What sort of life will she have here? With the Church, she'll have a chance - a future."
     Hezrai rolled his eyes. Yeah, right, they were doing this for the infant, nothing to do with the thousand credits. he really hoped the woman wasn't going to be difficult. Before she could say another word, the man edged closer to Hezrai and shoved the baby into his arms.
     Hezrai almost dropped it.
     Now he knew where the disgusting smell was coming from. Staring down into its red face, he tried to feel some religious awe. This was the High Priestess returned to them. She blinked at him from intense gray eyes, screwed up her features, and screamed, nearly bursting his eardrums.
     "Quiet, child." He made an effort to keep his voice even. If he gave in to his natural inclination and screamed back, he suspected it would do more harm than good. 
     She shrieked louder.
     "Give her to me." Sister Martha held out her arms.
     A second ago, he would have gladly handed her over; now that the sister had asked, he tightened his grip and gritted his teeth. "The child belongs to God now. She must learn obedience."
     The baby quieted, her lips curving into a sweet smile.
     "There, you see, she just needs discipline."
     She opened her mouth and regurgitated vile smelling, half-digested milk down his pristine black robe.
     That was the moment Hezrai Fischer began to hate the brand new High Priestess of the Church of Everlasting Life.
Intrigued?  Don't miss out on this one!
Thanks for stopping by The Wormhole ~ Happy Reading!