Archive | February 2015

February Release – Shadow Of The Hawk

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It is May 1932 and life in the timbered rise and fall of Western Arkansas has just gotten harder for sixteen-year-old Sooze Williams. With debt mounting and both friends and family fleeing, Sooze is determined to ‘do the right thing.’ She promises her heart to a well-to-do man believing true love is just another loss along the way.

But when her uncle is murdered and family is accused of the crime, Sooze vows not to be beaten. Is salvation within her grasp by relying solely on truth, or is it in the security of her intended’s money? Sooze must decide before it’s too late.

EXCERPT

As we neared Uncle Ray and Aunt Lissie’s farmhouse, the front left wheel, which was already whopper-jawed, hit a pothole in the road. Smack! The bolster clapped against the wood under our feet, and Cora nearly flew off the wagon seat. I caught her by the brown puffed sleeve of her dress and pulled her back toward me, holding her tight. Pulling hard on the leather reins, Daddy stopped the wagon. We could hear Uncle Ray yelling.

“You get off my land, and you stay off, you no-good little thief!”

Busting out the door of the hen house, Henry’s friend Benny was running like a wild man. His black hair was whipping across his face like strings from a wet mop, and he had his dirty white T-shirt pulled up like a hammock at his belly. It was filled with eggs.

“Go on, scram!” Uncle Ray came out the door of the hen house, swinging a leather strap. “If I catch you here again, I’ll beat the tar out of you, boy!”

Benny was in a dead-run. As he skidded around the back of our wagon headed for town, I saw a red welt the size of Uncle Ray’s leather strap across his cheek.

“What’d he get from you, Ray?” Daddy called.

“He stole my whole batch of eggs!” Uncle Ray walked toward us with one shoulder of his blue bib overalls hanging. He wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath to hide his big belly or a hat to cover his balding head. “I knew movin’ in this close to town would just invite the hoboes and hooligans.” He stopped at the wagon, reaching up to help Cora down off the seat, and kept right on talking. “But that boy — that loony little two-bit thief — he’s the worst of ’em all. If he was stealin’ so’s he could feed his family, I might look the other way once in a while. But when I get to town later today, I’ll bet I see a fresh batch of brown eggs for sale at Huckabee’s. All that boy does is sell what he steals from me so’s he can gamble and booze.”

“It ain’t right,” Daddy agreed, shaking his head. “It just ain’t right. You want me to go get the sheriff and be an eyewitness? A complaint is easy to file.”

“Won’t do no good,” Uncle Ray said. “With only one lawman in town, the sheriff said I needed to catch that boy red-handed myself and hand him over. But who can catch him? Did you see the way he lit out of here runnin’ like a jackrabbit?”

As we neared Uncle Ray and Aunt Lissie’s farmhouse, the front left wheel, which was already whopper-jawed, hit a pothole in the road. Smack! The bolster clapped against the wood under our feet, and Cora nearly flew off the wagon seat. I caught her by the brown puffed sleeve of her dress and pulled her back toward me, holding her tight. Pulling hard on the leather reins, Daddy stopped the wagon. We could hear Uncle Ray yelling.

“You get off my land, and you stay off, you no-good little thief!”

Busting out the door of the hen house, Henry’s friend Benny was running like a wild man. His black hair was whipping across his face like strings from a wet mop, and he had his dirty white T-shirt pulled up like a hammock at his belly. It was filled with eggs.

“Go on, scram!” Uncle Ray came out the door of the hen house, swinging a leather strap. “If I catch you here again, I’ll beat the tar out of you, boy!”

Benny was in a dead-run. As he skidded around the back of our wagon headed for town, I saw a red welt the size of Uncle Ray’s leather strap across his cheek.

“What’d he get from you, Ray?” Daddy called.

“He stole my whole batch of eggs!” Uncle Ray walked toward us with one shoulder of his blue bib overalls hanging. He wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath to hide his big belly or a hat to cover his balding head. “I knew movin’ in this close to town would just invite the hoboes and hooligans.” He stopped at the wagon, reaching up to help Cora down off the seat, and kept right on talking. “But that boy — that loony little two-bit thief — he’s the worst of ’em all. If he was stealin’ so’s he could feed his family, I might look the other way once in a while. But when I get to town later today, I’ll bet I see a fresh batch of brown eggs for sale at Huckabee’s. All that boy does is sell what he steals from me so’s he can gamble and booze.”

“It ain’t right,” Daddy agreed, shaking his head. “It just ain’t right. You want me to go get the sheriff and be an eyewitness? A complaint is easy to file.”

“Won’t do no good,” Uncle Ray said. “With only one lawman in town, the sheriff said I needed to catch that boy red-handed myself and hand him over. But who can catch him? Did you see the way he lit out of here runnin’ like a jackrabbit?”

 

As we neared Uncle Ray and Aunt Lissie’s farmhouse, the front left wheel, which was already whopper-jawed, hit a pothole in the road. Smack! The bolster clapped against the wood under our feet, and Cora nearly flew off the wagon seat. I caught her by the brown puffed sleeve of her dress and pulled her back toward me, holding her tight. Pulling hard on the leather reins, Daddy stopped the wagon. We could hear Uncle Ray yelling.

“You get off my land, and you stay off, you no-good little thief!”

Busting out the door of the hen house, Henry’s friend Benny was running like a wild man. His black hair was whipping across his face like strings from a wet mop, and he had his dirty white T-shirt pulled up like a hammock at his belly. It was filled with eggs.

“Go on, scram!” Uncle Ray came out the door of the hen house, swinging a leather strap. “If I catch you here again, I’ll beat the tar out of you, boy!”

Benny was in a dead-run. As he skidded around the back of our wagon headed for town, I saw a red welt the size of Uncle Ray’s leather strap across his cheek.

“What’d he get from you, Ray?” Daddy called.

“He stole my whole batch of eggs!” Uncle Ray walked toward us with one shoulder of his blue bib overalls hanging. He wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath to hide his big belly or a hat to cover his balding head. “I knew movin’ in this close to town would just invite the hoboes and hooligans.” He stopped at the wagon, reaching up to help Cora down off the seat, and kept right on talking. “But that boy — that loony little two-bit thief — he’s the worst of ’em all. If he was stealin’ so’s he could feed his family, I might look the other way once in a while. But when I get to town later today, I’ll bet I see a fresh batch of brown eggs for sale at Huckabee’s. All that boy does is sell what he steals from me so’s he can gamble and booze.”

“It ain’t right,” Daddy agreed, shaking his head. “It just ain’t right. You want me to go get the sheriff and be an eyewitness? A complaint is easy to file.”

“Won’t do no good,” Uncle Ray said. “With only one lawman in town, the sheriff said I needed to catch that boy red-handed myself and hand him over. But who can catch him? Did you see the way he lit out of here runnin’ like a jackrabbit?”

http://www.amazon.com/Shadow-Hawk-K-S-Jones-ebook/dp/B00TEPXNOW/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1423690741&sr=8-3&keywords=shadow+of+the+hawk

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shadow-of-the-hawk-k-s-jones/1121194142?ean=2940150302396

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/shadow-of-the-hawk-4

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/518501

http://www.wattpad.com/story/32563073-shadow-of-the-hawk-k-s-jones?utm_source=web&utm_medium=facebook&utm_content=share_myworks&ref_id=18201582

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/shadow-of-the-hawk/id966354494?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

 

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Author K.S. Jones, whose first name is Karen, has been writing most of her life, usually in stolen moments between raising children, caring for elderly parents, and working a real job. She spent fifteen years writing and researching her Depression-era debut novel, Shadow of the Hawk. During that time, she had short pieces published, but it wasn’t until 2014 that her writing took a giant leap forward. One summer morning, an email arrived announcing she had won Southern Writers 2014 Short Story contest. While reveling in the moment, a second email chimed – a publisher was offering a contract on her novel! That same week, two more publishing offers arrived for the same novel, and she hasn’t looked back since. Another novel, a middle-grade fantasy, is now under publisher’s review, and she is putting the finishing touches on a third.

Born and raised in California’s San Joaquin Valley—the destination of thousands of families fleeing the Dust Bowl during America’s Great Depression—the author’s favorite childhood pastime was reading. She especially loved The Grapes of Wrath, To Kill A Mockingbird, and The Education of Little Tree, plus all the Jack London novels. Who could expect Shadow of the Hawk to sound any differently than it does? She now lives in the beautiful Texas Hill Country with her husband, and their two dogs, Libby Loo and Red Bleu.

http://ksjones.com

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https://plus.google.com/u/0/+KarenJones-KSJonesAuthor/posts

 

 

 

Welcome, Sara Burr

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Astraea Press author, Sara Burr is in the spotlight to tell us about her January release UNDERGROUND ROSE.

Sara has been entranced by the written word for as long as she can remember. The daughter of a school teacher, she fell in love with books as soon as she could read them. She wrote her very first story, about a girl who ran away and hid in her cousin’s lilac bush, when she was just eleven. Although her stories have grown more complicated and less petulant since then, Sara still loves to entertain kids with her words.

When she isn’t writing, Sara has a big family to keep her busy: a husband who is her other half, and four children who are wonderfully individual. They live next to a beautiful lake in a tiny town with no street lights. Sara spends lots of time taking care of little superheroes. She likes to camp with her family, enjoys traveling, and hopes to see the Northern Lights someday.

After her surprise discovery of a mystical gift, fourteen-year-old Rose Wilson thinks her life is ruined. It turns out she comes from a long line of gifted women, and despite her protests, Rose’s mom ships her off to her grandmother’s house to spend the summer learning about her family’s well-hidden secrets. To make matters worse, Rose is expected to carry out this tradition alongside her mousy, bookworm cousin, Megan. What a waste of a summer.

With some effort, Rose and Megan manage to find common ground and by the time they get home, they’re working together to adjust to their new life. But everything is turned upside down again when their families are exposed by witch hunters who call themselves The Witches’ Hammer. With killers on the loose, their tiny town isn’t safe anymore. Rose’s entire family is fragmented and forced to flee through a network of hiding places, dubbed The Witches’ Underground Railroad.

 As she journeys to the sea, Rose learns more and more about who she really is. The closer she gets to her destination, the more danger she encounters, until she is forced to make the ultimate decision: follow her family’s edict of non-violence and become an orphan, or save her mom’s life.

Excerpt

A pool of blood already surrounded Amber’s head, and she was as pale as a ghost. Her breathing was shallow and labored.

Rose started parting her wet hair, little by little, trying to find the wound. Finally, after the longest minute of her life, she found it. The wide cut was right on the crown of Amber’s head – how could she have missed that? – and it was bleeding fast.

Fighting not to gag at the metallic smell, Rose put her hands on the slippery gash and pushed, like the lady said, but the blood just seeped through her fingers. The bleeding wasn’t stopping. Was she doing it right?

Feeling completely helpless, she began to sob.

She didn’t dare leave Amber again to go back to the phone.

“I don’t know what to do!” she cried out. “Help,” she croaked, knowing no one could hear. “Please help.”

Suddenly, she felt something strange happening, deep inside her chest. A comforting warmth, like hot chocolate on a freezing cold day, heated her from the inside out. It spread and expanded from her chest, bubbling and tingling like a fizzy drink, growing like wild morning glory vines, covering every part of her insides.

Was it coming from her heart?

It grew until she felt like she couldn’t contain all that heat for one second longer. Then, when she thought she might just explode, the heat-vines raced down her arms. An effervescent mixture of blue, pink, and purple light exploded from her hands, and surrounded Amber’s head like a quivering, transparent cocoon.

Rose sucked in a breath and blinked in disbelief.

She was frozen – afraid to move or even breathe. She stared with her mouth agape, her emerald eyes wide, as the bleeding slowed.

What the heck is happening? she thought. Is this a dream?

She didn’t understand what she was seeing. Was it … magic?

The glimmering cocoon continued pulsating from her fingertips, surrounding Amber’s head. Rose didn’t dare let go, for fear of undoing this miracle.

Then Amber started to stir.

This was not something Rose wanted to discuss. What kind of a freak would Amber think she was? Reluctantly, she removed her hands.

The vines of warmth snapped back into her, like a recoiling measuring tape. Then, the peculiar sensation was gone. No more heat. No more colors. She looked at her hands in a mixture of awe and disgust.

What was that? she asked herself.

She didn’t know, but she was glad it was over.

A few short seconds later, Amber opened her eyes. Her face so pale her freckles looked three dimensional and her icy blue eyes were even more clear than usual

 

http://www.amazon.com/Underground-Rose-Sara-Burr-ebook/dp/B00SILJ5P4/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1424204161&sr=1-1&keywords=underground+rose

 

 

 

 

Meet Ashley Stambaugh

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Ashley Stambaugh grew up in a small town in Illinois where she and her two siblings created some of the best memories playing on their family’s farm. She stayed in the southern region of the state to attend college where she earned a Bachelor of Arts degree and also met her husband.

 Now, she and her husband live in central Illinois and spend their time creating new memories with their two rambunctious boys and their comical black Pug. She also enjoys reading, taking long walks, and finding great bargains. When her sons are a little bit older, she has a great desire to travel with her family. Oh, and she also has a slight obsession with chocolate.

When she’s not busy chasing after her two young children or losing herself in a good book, you can find her curled up on her couch with her laptop, writing.

 Website: www.ashleystambaugh.blogspot.com

Facebook author page: www.facebook.com/ashleystambaughauthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ashleystambaugh

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8054295.Ashley_Stambaugh

 

Choosing between good and evil isn’t always that easy.

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Three months have passed and Melina thought she was safe. Safe from the effects of the angel powers and safe from the Noxin demons. But she thought too soon.

Just as she’s starting to enjoy her new powers and her new relationship with Lee, the slight pain she still experiences after using the powers starts to grow worse. As the pain becomes more and more unbearable, she finds herself lashing out at innocent people with unexplained anger and hatred. Then to make matters worse, she sees a Noxin demon again.

No one, not even the elders, seems to know what’s happening to Melina, or how a Noxin demon found her. And when she’s introduced to Dean, another unique human like herself, she learns that his pain is completely gone, which only makes her situation even more confusing.

Grasping for any type of answer, Melina throws out one possible explanation after another. But as her angry feelings intensify, and her angel powers grow weaker, she begins to think there might be something malevolent inside her that’s trying to take over. It’s not long before her internal struggle spirals out of control, and her body is turned into a battlefield that’s torn between good and evil.

Melina fears that if no solution is found, then she might lose all the people she loves, especially Lee. But what scares her even more is that she might lose herself to evil.

Amazon US: www.amazon.com/dp/B00SS399IU

Amazon UK: www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00SS399IU

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/torn-ashley-stambaugh/1121118308?ean=2940149979264

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/514533

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/torn/id962089053?mt=11&uo=4

Excerpt

Melina released his hands and nodded again as she turned to gaze out the front windshield. “I’ll talk to him as soon as I…ʺ Her voice trailed off as she continued to stare out the window.

“Is it the pain again?ʺ Lee asked.

“No,” Melina replied, her face turning paler by the second.

He glanced out the window and then back at her, a look of concern in his eyes. ʺWhat’s wrong then? What do you see?”

“A demon.” She continued to stare out the window, her body frozen stiff with fear.

Lee’s brow furrowed. “Why are you so scared? I know you can see angels all the time now, but I thought you could see all sorts of different demons now, too. ”

Melina’s eyes remained fixed out the window. The demon’s black, billowy figure wasn’t exclusive to his particular group, but the fiery red eyes were unmistakable.

“This isn’t just some random demon. It’s a Noxin demon.”

Lee’s expression turned serious. “Those are the ones I saw on the video footage from my apartment, right? The ones you said were really dangerous?ʺ

She gave him a stiff nod, but kept her gaze locked on the demon. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him looking out the window to see if he could spot the demon himself.

“Where is he?ʺ Lee asked.

“He’s behind the antique store across the street, lurking back in the alley.ʺ

Lee leaned forward in his seat and squinted his eyes as he looked in that direction. ʺI don’t see it.”

Melina’s breath suddenly caught in her throat. “It’s gone. It’s gone!ʺ She sat up in her seat, her eyes frantically searching the area outside. A few seconds later she turned to look at Lee, her bright green eyes wide with fear. “This is serious. We need to go.ʺ

 

Read about Devon’s Choice

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Faith, love and a cup of coffee, can change everything.

Life holds no surprises for Devon Murphy. Her life consists of keeping tabs on her aging Irish father, working part time at a coffee shop, and building her online graphics design business. Devon’s only tricky situation is a shallow relationship with the pampered and affluent Michael Turner, who sees her as just another woman to conquer.

Following his father’s death, Brandon’s only goal is to expand the family business and live life on his own terms. That is, until he walks into the coffee shop one snowy evening and meets the enchanting, red-haired barista behind the counter. But can Devon and Brandon’s attraction for each other be strong enough to help erase their deepest disappointments and renew their faith in God?

Excerpt:

Once they got to the park, Devon unhooked his leash. The dog ran in the snow and stopping abruptly, he turned, tongue out and ears perked. Brandon reached down and patted snow into a ball and threw it far beyond Bubby, who took off after it. After a few more throws, they left the dog to himself and walked along the brick path to a bench. Brandon brushed the snow off with his gloved hand and they sat down. Bubby played some more, then lay with his head up and ears alert.

“I’m curious,” Brandon said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I may be out of line to ask you, but what kind of relationship do you have with this Michael guy?” He looked sideways to see her worrying her bottom lip and hoped he was going to get a truthful statement.

“It’s pretty shallow, really. We’ve never discussed being an exclusive couple. He travels a lot with his company and I figure he probably goes out with other women, and not just for business if you know what I mean. Once he practically admitted to it.”

“What kind of job does he have?”

Devon, who’d been watching the dog, turned to look at him. “He’s the Executive Vice President for Turner Construction. His father owns the company.”

Brandon drew himself back. “Turner Construction! That’s the largest construction company in the Midwest.”

“So, you’ve heard of it?”

“Yes, my dad had some experience with them.”

“So was it a good experience?”

Brandon shrugged. “I really couldn’t say.” Then, hoping to refocus her attention, he asked, “How’d you ever meet him anyway?”

“He hit my car in a parking lot. Not very romantic.”

Brandon looked over at her neutral expression. Whatever kind of relationship she had with Michael Turner didn’t seem to be making her happy. At that moment, all he wanted to do was to make her forget all about the jerk.

As if sensing him watching her, Devon turned her head enough to make eye contact with him. The faint, milky glow from the streetlight showed enough of her features for him to see a soft blush warm her cheeks. Under her dark lashes, he watched her sea green eyes glint invitingly as her soft lips turned up at the corners. In that moment, his resolve to keep the date on a friendly level came crashing down.

Book Trailer on You Tube: www.youtube.com/watch?v=GPBc1jGurlQ

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1AMhNfY

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1xkWZaw

Smashwords: www.smashwords.com/books/view/510322
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Author Bio:

I grew up in Ohio where I currently live with my husband and our two rescue Labradors. Some of my favorite things include reading, shopping, pepperoni pizza, Hershey bars and hanging out with my two grown sons. I also love dogs; so going to the dog park is cheap entertainment for my husband and I!

Growing up an only child, I had many imaginary friends. I believe this – and a love of books – fueled my desire to write. It was many years later that my dream of becoming a published author came true.

Website: http://www.catherinebennett.org
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCatherineBennett
Twitter: http://www.twitter@author_cbennett
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/authorcbennett/