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Reviews, interviews, author articles, and guest posts of indie and self-published fiction, non-fiction and memoirs.
REUNION
David Ray kills eight in a failed attempt to fix his world. Twenty years later, the survivors organize a reunion. Old flames rekindle, fears ignite, and their lives explode in a whirlwind of memories. Will the classmates overcome their fears or be consumed by their nightmares?
Links:
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/10467702-reunion
Amazon Kindle Edition: http://tinyurl.com/48ror4u
Amazon Print: http://tinyurl.com/4gvpfyw
B&N eBook: http://tinyurl.com/6dcrsgm
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/44678
Giveaways:
Starting April 1, I'm going on a blog tour until May 15th. During this time I'll be giving away 1 Kindle and two signed copies of REUNION.
For Blog tour details and rules, go to http://jeffbennington.com/
Tour Schedule
April
1 - Candace's Book Blog - "The Story behind the Story." (REUNION available to eReaders.)
2 - The Cajun Book Lady - "Meet the Survivors."
3 - Julia Madeleine's Blog - "Why write fiction about a school shooting?"
4 - Bewitched Book Worms - "Why ghosts make great antagonists."
5 - Indie Paranormal Book Reviews - "Creating back story: David Ray's dark past."
6 - The Creative Penn - "Got Story? - Get Edited."
7 - Pinnacle Writing - "Author Interview."
8 - Jemima Valentino's Blog - "Book to Print: The Making of a Story."
9 - Swamp Dwellers, Dark Fiction Book reviews - "The Dark in Fiction."
10 - Jennifer Wylie's Blog - "Author Interview."
11 - Kait Nolan - "Supernatural, Love, and Fear."
12 - The Writing Bomb - "Character Interview with Lana Jones & Noah Berkley."
13 - Reading Without Restraint - "Twenty years after the shooting."
14 - Good Choice Reading - "Jeff's only Live Interview: Open questions from host and followers."
15 - Preternatural Primer - "Building Suspense one Ghost at a Time."
16 - 100 Stars or Less - "Author interview"
17 - Readaholic - "My experience with Blog tours... so far."
18 - Lost For Words - "Interviewing Tanner Khan: The Lost Survivor."
19 - I Am a Reader Not a Writer - "Author interview."
20 - The Writing Bomb - "Remembering Columbine: April, 20, 1999."
21 - Go YAY Reviews - TBA
22 - Reena's Blog - "Making a story go from scratch."
23 - Wakela's World - TBA
24 - You Wanna Know What I Think? - "The Motivation Behind Reunion."
25 - The Book Tree - TBA
26 - My Reading Room - "Author Interview"
27 - My Neurotic Book Affair - "Character Interview with Nick Tooley: The cRaZy One."
28 - Courtney Conant's Blog - "Questions about REUNION."
29 - The Writing Bomb - "Character Interview With Kate Schmidt Tooley: ."
30 - Paranormal Haven - "I'll have a Love, Ghosts and Fear Martini."
May
1 - The Writing Bomb - "Character Interview with Maria Vasquez: The Lonely One" (REUNION Available in Print!)
2 - My Eclectic Bookshelf - "My life as a Guest Blogger!"
3 - Fang-tastic Books - "Why I write Supernatural Thrillers."
4 - Bookhound's Den - "Proofing REUNION, what the Bookhound discovered."
5 - Patricia's Vampire Notes - "The story of Earl: My real ghost experience."
6 - AOBibliosphere - "Getting the story into Print and the Passion behind it."
7 - Book Noise - "How to Make a Book Read Loudly!"
8 - TzhaBella's Book Shelf - "Thoughts on Bringing Life into Paper."
9 - Rex Robot Reviews - "Thoughts on Plotting: How to pull it all together."
10 - JoJo's Book Corner - "Would the Correct Genre Please Stand!"
11 - Paul Joseph Writes - "Why Bullies Suck!"
12 - Frugal Family -
13 - OPEN: Last day of The REUNION Blog Tour!
14 - The Writing Bomb - Tour Wrap Up...Packing for Vacation.
14 - The Book Worm Blog - TBA
15 - Announce Winners of Kindle Giveaway!
My debut YA Dark Fantasy novel releases April 1st from Museituppublishing.com. It is the first book of a series. Readers can see more about it and order it at http://seraphymwarsodessa.blogspot.com or http://rryalsrussell.com. It is an eBook for now with print coming later.
There will be a virtual blog tour throughout the month of April with TONS of prizes. I will forward the schedule as soon as it is ready.
BLURB:
Myrna Ashlin Watts is a high school Senior in Jacksonville, Fl when she is transported to a bizarre and primal planet corrupted by demon-dragons. And they want her dead. Her problem is, she has been recruited to kill them, too.
Reluctantly, and knowing it is her only way to get back home, she agrees to lead an army of six teens called The Vigorios (demon-hunters) all the while battling dragons and monsters as they cross swamps and mountains, forests and seas. She wrangles with mental scars of a demon attack when she was fifteen and a vision of those same demons killing her brother two years later.
Three very different men join her quest—a seasoned demon/dragon-slayer who irritates but beguiles her, a tender and sweet mentor in whom she trusts completely and a roguishly handsome Scientist who sets her senses aflame. How is she expected to lead the others and keep everyone safe with so much inner turmoil? Whom can she trust, if anyone, even herself? How can anyone expect her, a kid in high school to be a leader? Much less one who leads an army of kids in a Holy battle?
Will love and lust, jealousy, greed, deceit and distrust break the delicate tie that binds these teen warriors called The Vigorios? Can a troupe of teens help the Seraphym finally defeat the massive empire of evil dominated for eons by the demon-dragons of Dracwald?
Undercover cop, Hannah Ford, eager to return to work after trauma leave, takes on a drug-surveillance job in Draper’s Wharf. The small town on the banks of the
But when she arrives, the town was in shock after the rape and murder of its local barmaid. Hannah, a rape victim, with a career to salvage, needs to prove she can hack it. Or, is her worst nightmare about to be re-enacted when the villains learn her true identity.
(Short Listed for the Genre Fiction Award by New
Prologue
Old Marty could have chosen a better day for his funeral. The gravedigger hawked and spat a gobbet of phlegm. He squatted against an old stone wall and sniffed the damp air. He turned his weary face upwards to check the progress of a threatening squall line. Fat drops of rain fell on his cheeks.
The warning on the radio that morning told of severe weather from the west approaching
Reverend Timms led the procession along the narrow path, his balding head bowed to the wind, black and purple robes blown flat against his legs. The quartet of undertakers in maroon suits carried Old Marty in a coffin crowned with yellow roses. The widow, wrapped in a navy blue anorak, clutched the arm of her tall, angular sister. A few members of the Over 60s Club trailed along in their wake.
Large multi-coloured umbrellas mushroomed to shelter the mourners. The gravedigger sniffed again as the party stopped beside the hole he’d dug the night before. Brought up in an age when the predominant colour at funerals was black, the gaily-coloured golfing shades they used today struck a note of incongruity and turned his graveyard into a fairground. The billowing storm cloud burst. The gravedigger lurched to his feet and stumbled to his shed.
Storm driven rain slanted in the wind, bounced off the ground. Ferocious gusts tore at the robust umbrellas, lifted the corners of the tarpaulin covering the loose earth and turned the soil into a running river of mud. Deep puddles formed at the base of the grave, shifting and resettling the dirt.
As the minister began his intonation, the first of the storm clouds passed. The sun found an avenue between the clouds. In the moment’s respite, raindrops hung like splinters of glass from the surrounding bushes and trees. Freed from the umbrella’s cover, the widow lifted her face to the sky to look at the expanding rainbow. Her tall sister took a step forward to peer into the waterlogged grave.
Her scream drove seagulls from the church roof into the air with raucous cries and brought the gravedigger back to the party. Reverend Timms jerked forward, his gaze following the agitated woman’s pointed finger. Others bent to see.
There, in the dark wet pit, emerging from the muddied waters, they saw a human hand. Stark in its whiteness, washed by the rain, scarlet lacquer and bejewelled rings adorned the fingers. Runnels of water drained down the wrist and forearm as the water level dropped away. Only the tatty remnants of a thin blanket of soil remained to cover the naked, blue-tinged body of a young woman.
Straightening up, the minister met the gravedigger’s eyes. Turning to the undertakers, he nodded for them to take up their burden once more. Then gently he shepherded the funeral party back to the church. The gravedigger returned to his shed. With someone else occupying his grave, Old Marty would have to wait awhile.
Available in Print and Kindle at Amazon.com
Available at Barnes&Noble.com
Ahead of me, a tractor-trailer rig was in the right lane, brake lights flaring. I looked in the left rearview mirror, to pull into the left lane and pass, but a blue and white pickup pulled even with me and crowded me toward the rail. As I slowed, he slowed. It looked at first like the normal stupid driving one sees on the bridge every day, until I glanced in the rearview and saw an identical pickup on my rear… much too close to my bumper.
I started bumping the brake to keep the guy behind me off the back bumper. We were all still moving at about twenty or twenty-five mph. Where were we on the bridge? Yes, up there ahead. Just about a half-mile lay the last U-turn.
The pickup behind me tapped the Jeep’s rear bumper, the rig in front slowed even more. The pickup in the left lane had pulled alongside, then slightly ahead. These damned pickups looked like the ones I had seen at the turnarounds with trailers to haul off vehicles that have broken down. But these were sure as hell not driven by the Causeway emergency crews.
I had always idly wondered, and never knew, what those small trapdoors about sixteen inches square, on both sides of the large rear doors on some tractor-trailer rigs were for. Just then the one of them opened, and I saw one use. The door on the right side dropped down and the ugly nose of something that looked like an assault rifle poked out and pointed down at us.
I hit the brakes, still going about fifteen mph and was rewarded with hard smack on the rear bumper from the truck behind me. I simultaneously yelled at Rita to get down under the dash and snatched the Desert Eagle from its holster from under the seat.
The windshield exploded as two rounds slammed through. Either the bastard shooting was a lousy marksman, or the moving target and strange lighting on the windshield threw him off. He missed both of us.
Then the back window blew out. We were stopped. Surrounded. I slammed the Jeep into park. The engine was still running. I flipped the safety to the “fire” position
on the Desert Eagle.
As always, in the haze that envelops me in battle, I remember tiny, insignificant detail; like how the glass from the windshield had shattered into such tiny pieces and sparkled on the dashboard. The rig ahead was silver, and needed washing. The guy in the rig was swinging the barrel of the weapon for a carefully aimed shot. He had evidently figured the angle.
I put two quick rounds just below the trapdoor, about a foot apart, blowing neat holes through the thin skin of the trailer and probably out the other end of the rig. The “double tap,” handgun instructors call it. The rifle barrel disappeared.
The passenger door to the pickup on the left was opening. I couldn’t see who was exiting yet, but there was a weapon preceding him. I shot through the door of the truck twice. A man with a stubby assault weapon fell out to the pavement. I was about to put another shot through the cab at the driver, when I felt and heard the whip-snap of a bullet nearly taking off the top of my right ear.
The truck behind! Brinson, you dumbshit!
I was damned nearly deaf from the big .50’s roar inside the jeep, and had been totally involved in those who I could see ahead and to the left of me. I opened my door to drop out just as a round hit the left rearview mirror. As my door swung open, two rounds went through it. I pushed it to the full open position then spun across the seat to the passenger door, raised up quickly, shot through the windshield of the pickup behind us, left and right. The shooter was hanging out the passenger door with what looked like an AK-47. He dropped behind the door, apparently not hit.
I had two rounds left in the pistol and one more seven-round magazine. I shot one of those remaining in the pistol through the radiator of the truck behind me, ducked down, changed magazines and quickly popped up to see what was in front of me.
Nothing. Both the tractor-trailer rig and pickup truck to the left had gone. I left the door open, leaned left and looking at the road between the door hinge and body of the Jeep, snatched the gear selector into drive floored the gas pedal. I nearly jolted myself out of the seat, but managed to hang on to the steering wheel. A round from the truck behind us hit the left front roof column, and I swerved back and forth a little to screw up his aim. Screaming down the road with wind tearing at my eyes, my ears ringing I managed a glance back.
The truck wasn’t following. We were alone on the bridge.
The tractor-trailer rig had evidently gone straight ahead. One of those pickups must have been towing an emergency hitch and trailer—probably for my jeep.
I reached out to check Rita. She had not moved or made any sound since she had crouched in the well under the dash. I didn’t think she could have been hit, but a cold, immediate fear blanketed me. As I touched her back, she uncoiled to face me, her face white and eyes glittering. She held a small automatic. Then, understanding she was safe, shrunk back into her seat gulping for air.
“Keep your pistol ready and your head down.” I spoke to her as if she were a fellow trooper in combat, which was true enough at the moment. I paused long enough to make sure my pistol was on “safe,” and headed the Jeep toward home.
I shook like a drenched man standing in a cold wind.
Available at Amazon/Kindle
Barnes&Noble nook
I believe I have done something unusual in the publishing world. I am simultaneously publishing a YA series and a MG series with the same concepts, but rewritten for each age group.
The YA series, Seraphym Wars, debuts April 1 with Odessa. It is about 17 year old Myrna who must find and train the other six Vigorios to assist the Seraphym in a Holy War against the demons on their home planet of Dracwald. http://rryalsrussell.com for more.
The MG series, Stardust Warriors, is about 14 year old Zarena who must locate the remaining six Vigorios and get them trained for the same war.
So what is the difference, besides the Protagonist’s age? It is the POV, some of the action, and there is very little romance in the MG version, while Myrna struggles to discover her true love while on her quest. The YA version also contains graphic violence left out of the MG series.
As an author and reader, I have been cognizant of the fact current MG readers may later read the YA series as well—indeed I hope they do. To that end, I have incorporated several different adventures in the MG series that are not found in the YA and vice-versa. It is my hope that the MG readers will fall in love with Dracwald and the characters so much they will continue reading the YA series as they themselves age.
I have even toyed with writing several Early Chapter books and Picture books using some of the sweet characters as a way of introducing the ideas and world even earlier.
In addition to the text, I have illustrated nearly every monster, creature, character, dragon, and some scenes, which I hope to publish in a print edition along with the map of Dracwald. In the meanwhile, readers can find the map and many of these illustrations on my website,http://rryalsrussell.com on the link labeled Interactive Activities. Within the site they can also read about the various books in each series and the younger books in the WIP tab.
I have also considered turning the story into a Graphic Novel, as it is fast-paced and very visual. My own artistic skills are not up to par for that endeavor, however, so I have not pursued it. But I am open to anyone who would be interested in discussing it.
Watch for the first book of the MG series Stardust Warriors – Zarena to be released July 2011.
Here is the up-to-date release schedule of my upcoming books (so far). I am currently writing the next three books in the Stardust Warriors series and Book 3 Majikals in the Seraphym Wars series, as well as a YA Dystopian Romance and the aforementioned Chapter Books and Picture books.
BOOK RELEASE INFO:
April 2011-Odessa, Seraphym Wars YA Serieshttps://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=64&category_id=6&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1 ORhttp://seraphymwarsodessa.blogspot.com
July 2011-Zarena, Stardust Warriors MG Series
September 2011-Guardian, Seraphym Wars
October 2011-Don’t Make Marty Mad (adult Horror story)https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage-ask.tpl&product_id=97&category_id=3&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1
November 2011-Jeremiah, Stardust Warriors
January 2012-Harpies, Seraphym Wars
February 2012-Laman, Stardust Warriors
April 2012-Mercy, Stardust Warriors
June 2012-Magaelbash, Stardust Warriors
LINKS:
Author website: MG & YA Fantasy Author Rebecca Ryals Russell athttp://rryalsrussell.com.
Odessa Buy Page: http://seraphymwarsodessa.blogspot.com OR
My books are available at MuseItUp Publishing in addition to all major eBook outlets:
MuseItUp Publishing Author Page:http://museituppublishing.com/musepub/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=98&Itemid=82
Series websites: http://SeraphymWars.com andhttp://StardustWarriors.com
This article originally appeared as a guest post for Peevish Penman.
Author bio: Adi Alsaid is a writer living in