Monday, August 31, 2015

Blog Tour: Harmony's Healing by T. J. West




Harmony's Healing
By T.J. West


Cover Model: Daniel Wells


Danny Jay, lead guitarist of the hottest new band, JINXS has found himself fighting for control in his own life. He can’t control his father’s choices, the sister he blames for his abandonment or his best friend dating his sister. It’s the ultimate betrayal leaving him bitter, angry and unforgiving.
Harmony’s older sister raised her after their parent’s fatal car accident instead of going into the foster care system. When tragedy struck again Harmony made the hardest choices to pay the bills and survive. She gets a second chance to build a better life when offered a job at Montgomery Suites, where she crosses paths with Danny.
After one horrible drunken evening at Montgomery Suites, Harmony takes care of Danny and feels a connection but he is damaged and reserved. Will these two abandoned souls be able to heal each other?















I'm a stay at home Mom of two teenagers. I became a self published author in 2014 after being inspired by many self indie authors. I have enjoyed writing for a long time, but never thought my imagination would carry me to this point in my life. After many years of losing my passion, and from enjoying raising my children I am finally at a place where I can reach for my dreams. Whether I become a best seller or not, I am loving the journey I am on and will continue to write as long as my readers are willing to read my stories.
Other interests: Watching many many TV shows (yes I am addicted), movies, hiking, going to the beach, spending time with the family, road trips, cocktail nights with friends and being interactive with my fans, friends and family on Facebook.




Twitter: @AuthorTJWest

Amazon: Author Page
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Saturday, August 29, 2015

Interview Spotlight: Author Kathleen Kelly







AUTHOR BIO

Kathleen Kelly was born in Penrith, NSW, Australia. When she was four her family moved to Brisbane, QLD, Australia. Although born in NSW she considers herself a QUEENSLANDER!!

She married her childhood sweetheart and they live in Brisbane with their two furry kids. A British Short Hair called Grace and a Burmese called Jack.

Kathleen enjoys writing contemporary, romance novels with a little bit of erotica. She draws her inspiration from family, friends and the people around her. She can often be found in cafes writing and observing the locals.

If you have any questions about her novels or would like to ask Kathleen a question she can be contacted via e-mail: kathleenkellyauthor@gmail.com or she can be found on Facebook.


 

 
 
INTERVIEW
 
RIU: Hi, Kathleen! Welcome to Rising Indies United. Please tell us a little bit about yourself.

I have been writing full time for just over twelve months. I live in the one of the nicest places in Australia, Brisbane, Queensland. If you love the heat Queensland is definitely for you.
RIU: When did you first begin writing? Did you find it daunting or did you just jump in feet first?
I helped another author out in early 2014 with some of her books. She encouraged me to give my over active imagination full reign so I quit my job and began writing. It was and is very daunting but I did kind of jump in feet first. I love it though, I can’t imagine doing anything else now.
RIU: Where do you find inspiration? And can you tell us about one or more of how you were inspired to write your books?
Inspiration? Lord, it’s all in my head.
RIU: Who have been your biggest supporters?
There are too many blogs to name just one. Without the support of bloggers and fellow authors, I doubt I would have very well.
At home it would definitely be my hubby, he’s my rock.
RIU: What is the hardest part of writing? What is the best part?
Hardest: Making myself sit down and write.
Best: There are times when it flows, those are the best.
RIU: Who has been your biggest influence?
There are many Authors I look up to, who have encouraged me and helped me.
The biggest influence would have to be my PA Maci Dillon. I bounce ideas off her all the time, she’s amazing.
RIU: What is your writing process?
I do a rough outline, chapter by chapter and go from there. It’s easier for me if I have a rough idea of where the story will be going before the voices in my head all start talking at once.
RIU: What advice would you give a new writer?
Be consistent and have a word count and stick to it. Find an Author who is successful in the genre you are writing in and copy every freaking thing they do – not their work, their actions.


RIU: If you could have dinner with any 5 writers (dead or alive) who would they be and why?
 
Gwendolyn Grace – we share the same PA Maci Dillon and she seems like a really nice chick.
JR Ward – I love paranormal and her Black Dagger Brotherhood is my favourite series.
Laurell K Hamilton – Have you read her works? OMG she’s amazing and her personal life is just as interesting.
Lili St Germain – she lives in Australia, so it is do-able and her Gypsy Brothers series is fantastic.
Harlow Brown – she is a very new author. She hasn’t even released her first novel yet but I’ve spoken with her on FB and she’s a really nice person. A sample from her book had me in tears – so looking forward to reading that!
RIU: What can we expect from you in the future?
I have another two more books planned for the Savage Angels MC but I don’t want to say that will be all, sometimes the characters don’t like to be left out.
I am writing a spin-off series to the Savage Angels MC called the Grinders, if you’ve read my works you’ll know it’s going to be a rockstar series.
AND I also have something else planned…but not sharing that yet J
RIU: Thank you for taking the time to talk to us today. Much continued Success!
 
 
AUTHOR LINKS
 
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/-x035 
Join my Street Team 'Kelly's Angels'
 
BOOK INFORMATION

1st Series - Savage Angels MC
 
Savage Stalker (Savage Angels MC #1)
 

 
Blurb
 
Katarina Saunders. Kat to the world, international rock star. Lead singer for The Grinders.
 
Until she has an accident that ruins her career and sends her running into the mountains, away from everything and everyone.
 
Dane Reynolds, President of the Savage Angels MC. Fierce, strong and loyal. He’s had his eye on Kat for a while now and has been waiting for her to come to him but he’s had enough of waiting. He’s decided it’s time to make her his.
 
But so has her Stalker, he’s been waiting for far too long…
 
Can Dane save Kat? Or will her savage stalker get to her first?
 
 
Savage Fire (Savage Angels MC #2)
 
Released May 29th, 2015
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1KkEde1


 
Blurb
 
Emily Reynolds, estranged sister to Dane Reynolds, President of the Savage Angels MC, has just lost her father. He was not a caring man and inflicted suffering on his family. Dane abandoned her and her mother years ago, leaving them alone to deal with a brutal man who never showed any love or mercy. Emily wants Dane to feel the pain she felt, she wants him to suffer as she did and decides to make the long drive to see him.

Salvatore Agostino, captain in the Abruzzi crime family is also on his way to see Dane Reynolds. A ruthless businessman, he is fiercely loyal to his family and his men. A chance encounter brings him face to face with Emily.

These two meet and their attraction grows into a love that neither could have anticipated.

Will they be able to overcome the turmoil that awaits them or will their love be destroyed by forces beyond their control?


 
Savage Town (Savage Angels MC #3)
 
Coming September 2015
 
Pre-Order Available
Blurb
 
Tourmaline is set to host the wedding of the century.
 
Everyone is in town to witness rocks' wild child, Kat Saunders, marry Savage Angels MC President, Dane Reynolds.
 
Love is in the air, and even the VP, Jonas, has been roped into helping with the impending nuptials.
 
For a time now, Jonas has kept quiet about his attraction to the beautiful Adelynn but now he's making it his mission to convince her he's a changed man.
 
With all hearts set on a happy ending, all are oblivious to the danger lurking on the outskirts of town.
 
The Savage Angels MC are fierce, loyal and will do anything to protect their own, but what if 'anything' is simply not enough?
 
Visit Tourmaline to experience the gut wrenching, unimaginable danger that threatens to destroy everyone's chance of a happily ever after.
 
 

Friday, August 28, 2015

Blog Tour: Nightlife: Night Terrors by Matthew Quinn Martin




 
 
Title: Nightlife: Night Terrors
Author:  Matthew Quinn Martin
Genre: Horror Release Date: July 7, 2015

Synopsis:
 
“Doesn’t get any darker than this; you can actually feel the blood spatter…” –Hugo & Nebula winner James Patrick Kelly

Enter the world of Nightlife, where the streets crawl with unimaginable demons, and a monster can lurk behind every friendly face...

Matthew Quinn Martin first terrified horror fans with Nightlife, the captivating story of two unlikely monster hunters determined to save the city of New Harbor from the Night Angels—bloodthirsty creatures that feed on the forgotten. Jack Jackson and Beth Becker are among the few who can see these creatures for what they really are, but as they hunt the creatures, a mysterious organization known only as The Division is hunting them.

In the novella Hazardous Material, we get a glimpse of The Division’s origins and aims, when a young man stumbles onto a long-abandoned video arcade—which three decades ago was the site of the largest mass shooting in New York history—and unwittingly uncovers a relic of unimaginable power and mind-altering terror.

And in the never-before-released As the Worm Turns, Jack and Beth are back, along with their faithful dog, Blood. For months they’ve been keeping just one step ahead of The Division, whose enigmatic leader has been pursuing them with the single-minded obsession to capture them by any means necessary. But as Jack and Beth continue their quest to rid the world of the creatures once and for all they find themselves facing off against something even more terrifying than the Night Angels––something that could hold the key to humanity’s salvation…or its doom.

Three amazing horror stories in one chilling bundle...the only thing you won't fear is the price!




EXCERPT
 
The bank dominated the center of the block. The letters that had once been fastened above the entrance were gone—no doubt stripped long ago and pawned as scrap—but watery gray ghosts of the name, Empire Bank and Trust, remained, staining the lintel just beneath the crumbling cornice.
 
The bank was a relic from the days when money was kept on-site, when buildings like this needed to project an aura of safety and power. Power it had in spades, even if that power was a dark, haunted one. Safety, however, had long since taken the last train out of Camden.
Blood’s growl grew to a timber-sawing buzz. Jack knelt by him, resting one heavy hand on the dog’s neck. “Stay here, boy.” Beth fought the urge to do the same, to share in the bond between them. However, as close as she’d grown to Blood these past ten months, she knew he answered to but one master.
The boarded-up door gave way. The bottom edge ground against the sidewalk, leaving just enough room for them to slip through. Blood took his place just outside, standing sentry.
 
The place reeked of stale air and piss. Their own tentative footfalls echoed like timpani in the hollow structure. Each of them clicked on a flashlight, and the beams pierced the gloom, presenting a patchwork picture of the interior. Above them, the vaulted ceiling stretched past the reach of their beams. The curved sides were covered in a ruin of torn silk bunting that hung in shreds like funerary wrappings. In the center of the cracked tile floor were the remains of a mosaic. It might have once depicted an eagle clutching a shield, but half of it had cratered away. Many holes gaped in the floor, any one of them an invitation to a turned ankle.
 
Directly ahead of them was a row of iron portcullis windows, behind which a battalion of tellers had once stood. The shelves beneath each pass-through sported an uneven divot at the center, worn smooth by decades of deposits and withdrawals.
 
At the far wall, just past the bars, Beth could spot the shadow of an open vault. And between the two, the shadow of something else. Something that was moving toward the only door separating them. A door that was open.
“Don’t look at it.” Jack was already reaching for a snap vial. “Cover the door. Let me know if you see anything. Shadows, movement, anything.”
 
Beth drew her pistol and trained it on the narrow slit of night just past the entrance. She fought constantly to keep her eyes from flicking over to where that thing was. “What’s it doing?
 
“It’s waiting.”
 
“Waiting for what?”
“An opportunity.”
 
Beth clamped her jaw tight, gripped her pistol tighter. She backed up until she could see Jack in her peripheral vision. There was a quick cracking sound as Jack activated the vial. He breathed in deeply, and she watched his entire body begin to vibrate as the chemicals took hold. “What do you see?”
 
Jack took another step closer. He leaned in. And then he shook his head and coughed out the vapor. “Too dark to see much. It’s pacing. I’m pretty sure it knows we’re here. But every time it comes close to the door, it pulls back. I think it wants to attack but is afraid to come too close.”
“Is it wounded? Like the other one?”
 
“Yes. No. I’m not sure.” He coughed again, and when he spoke, his voice was little more than a gravel whisper. “Wounded, yes. But not in the same way. And . . .” Jack’s voice trailed thin into the musty air.
 
“And what?”
 
“And this is a trap.”
 
 
 
 
Reviews for the first book:
"Thrilling, edgy, and scary as hell, Nightlife is an outstanding debut and one of the most original takes on the vampire novel I've ever read." - Jason Starr, International Bestselling Author of The Pack

"Nightlife completely creeped me out. Martin is a master of suspense. Keep me up all night again soon!" -Nancy Holder, New York Times Bestselling Author, The Wicked Saga

"Doesn't get any darker than this; you can actually feel the blood spatter. Nightlife is the gutsiest debut I've read in a long time." - James Patrick KellyHugo and Nebula Award winning author of Think Like a Dinosaur.

"An incredibly riveting, edge of your seat plot that was equal parts spooky mystery and gruesomely tragic horror novel." - All Things Urban Fantasy

"Whoa! This is like the ultimate Vampire book! No fluff here. This is not your modern, sexy, 'I wanna get laid by a vampire' book - this was some scary stuff." - Wall to Wall Books

"I don't think I've actually read anything like it!" - Bibliosanctum

"If you like your fantasy urban and dark, give this book a try. If you want to see vampires restored to a fearsome glory, give this book a try. If you just want a creepy good story for the Halloween month, give this book a try!" - Badass Book Reviews

"Nightlife is the perfect story to read if you like to get a good scare on!" - Jersey Girl Book Reviews

"Have you been wanting vampires that are mean, nasty, eating machines? Tired of the glitter and sparkle and angst? Well, check this book out....a perfect blend of action and pathos that most readers of horror should enjoy." - Now is Gone

"The vampires Matthew created are nothing like I ever read before. They are scary and creepy!" - Yummy Men and Kick Ass Chicks
 
Author Bio
Born in Allentown, Pennsylvania and raised in New Haven, Connecticut, it wasn’t until Matthew moved to Manhattan that he realized he was a writer. These days, he lives on a small island off the North Atlantic coast of the United States where it gets quiet in the winter…perhaps too quiet. . . 

 Links
 
 
 
 
 

Thursday, August 27, 2015

Blog Tour: 13 Stolen Girls by Gil Reavill



About the Book
 
Title: 13 Stolen Girls
Author: Gil Reavill
Genre: Mystery / Thriller
 
Perfect for fans of Michael Connelly's Bosch series, Gil Reavill's gripping new Layla Remington thriller plunges readers beneath the glittering facade of Hollywood and into a terrifying underworld where beautiful women can just . . . disappear.
 
Synopsis
 
Malibu is crumbling. A monster earthquake has just ripped apart some of the priciest real estate on the planet. In a bizarre twist, it has also exposed a grisly tableau buried for years beneath one particularly unstable hilltop: a steel barrel containing the mummified remains of Tarin Mistry, the beautiful starlet who went missing a decade ago. When Detective Investigator Layla Remington looks into that wretched metal coffin, she realizes she's just landed the case of a lifetime.

     But before Layla even strips off her latex gloves, a pair of hotshot LAPD detectives arrive on the scene and pull her off the investigation. Undeterred, Layla pursues her own line of inquiry, risking her badge and her life to track down Tarin's murderer: from the rarified air of exclusive canyon communities to seedy sex clubs downtown, all the way to the secluded lair of one of Hollywood's most powerful men. But while Tarin's a cold case, her killer is poised to strike again--and, in Layla, this depraved sociopath has just found fresh prey.
 


Author Bio
Gil Reavill is a journalist, screenwriter, and playwright. Widely featured in magazines, Reavill is the author of a crime novel, Thirteen Hollywood Apes, nominated for a Thriller Award from International Thriller Writers. He has written two works of crime non-fiction: Mafia Summit: J. Edgar Hoover, the Kennedy Brothers, and the Meeting That Unmasked the Mob, and Aftermath, Inc.: Cleaning Up After CSI Goes Home. He also co-wrote the screenplay for the 2006 film Dirty, starring Cuba Gooding, Jr. He lives in New York with his wife, the author Jean Zimmerman, and their daughter.

 
Links
 B&N
 
 
 
Excerpt
 
The Corean master took a break from his emergency-service work on the Malibu earthquake. He went grocery shopping and returned with his purchases to the apartment building on Jane Street.
The hallway that led to 3C exhibited the kind of banal environment he preferred. The Sheetrock walls had a knockdown finish. The rug-makers had designed the durable frieze carpet not to show stains. Fluorescent lighting rendered everything in a nicely sick shade of lime-white. He relished such places in the same way that a chameleon favors a green leaf.
The triple locks on 3C’s cast-aluminum door seemed to be the only feature that set it apart from the forty-eight other apartments in the complex. The locks, plus the privacy/security film on the windows. And, yes, another oddity about 3C: the adjacent apartments, eight in all, had been left vacant. Because sound—weeping, moaning, screaming—travels.
Once inside, the Corean master set his groceries on the kitchen counter. Recently, he had resolved to treat his body better. No more of the sugar-and-fat junk food on which he had gorged in the past. The paper bag from the local Food Depot spilled over with produce, tomatoes, plums, Romaine lettuce. The bread was whole grain.
He felt a little impatient with himself, since he had often embarked on new healthy diets before, only to see the fruits and vegetables he bought rot in the refrigerator. This time would be different.
The apartment carried over the predictable decorating themes of the hall, with more white drywall, more industrial carpet, more innocuous lighting fixtures. The place barely looked lived in. Which made sense, since no one really did. Apartment 3C was just one of the Corean master’s many apartments scattered around the Valley suburbs of Reseda, Canoga Park and Woodland Hills, California, all communities that were just over the foothills from his Malibu ranch.
Building management, the Corean master thought, not for the first time, represented the perfect sideline for a man of his interests. He had his fingers in a lot of pies, but among his numerous business perks one of the most useful, he felt, was his ability to gain access to empty apartments all across the area’s heavily developed suburban landscape.
Partially visible through the open door of the first bedroom, his current slave was splayed out in a special rig of the master’s own devising. He had not only drawn the plans for it but had fabricated the device himself. The circular steel hoop had a radius of nine feet, suspended within a sturdy frame, which was anchor-bolted to the floor, wall and ceiling.
The master had fastened his unclothed, blindfolded and gagged submissive to the steel hoop by means of fur-lined leather cuffs and lightweight aluminum chains. The hoop rotated within the frame on industrial-strength ball bearings, providing all-direction access. In his magnificent, masterful generosity, he had allowed the slave to remain upright when he left for work and shopping, its arms secured at the ten and two o’clock positions, legs at seven and five.
Through his angled view of the bedroom, cut off and limited by the doorframe, the master saw that its thin, bony body had sagged a bit within the rig. One reason he liked this slave was that it had gone through some sort of auto accident and its skin was covered over with surgical scars.
Now it made no sound. He wondered if it might have fallen into an exhausted sleep.
He looked more closely.
Something was wrong.
Disliking the cheap orange ball gags sold in sex shops, the Corean master had painstakingly fashioned one himself, using an ivory death’s-head originally intended as a custom shift knob for a manual automobile transmission. It wasn’t real ivory, of course, just plastic, but it looked fierce and served its purpose.
Usually he would hear the thin wheeze of ball-gag-obstructed breath from his slave. He heard nothing.
A squeeze of fear nearly took his own breath away. Something had happened while he was gone. He hated not being in control. Stress stressed him out.
So, okay. No need to get upset. Just breathe. Of all the activities in the world, what worked to soothe him most? Why, the same thrill available right there, with the slave behind door number one. They were headed together toward the Ultimate Consumation.
Eat, shower, gear up, then stride in and wake it up with a good, furious twirl of the hoop. Rotate it long enough, fast enough, and it lost all sense of direction, of time, all sense of itself, really. There was no danger that it would lose its lunch, since he hadn’t fed it for days.
The master removed his T-shirt as he strode down the hall. He would put on his bulldog harness and his U.S. Marines jockstrap. He wanted the slave to see him in his full Corean regalia when it woke up. But as he passed the bedroom the sagging posture of the slave struck him once again.
Now real panic seized him.
He entered the bedroom, crossed to the hoop and grabbed the slave by the jaw, pulling its head upward. But his hand jerked away as if he had touched a hot stove.
The skin was cold and clammy, the body limp. The slave was gone.
The Corean master’s stunned surprise was immediately overwhelmed by rage. She had cheated him, the little bitch! The horror of what had happened stalled out his mind. She had gained the upper hand. Somehow, the slave had proved the master.
He had been so careful, so meticulous. What had gone wrong?
He reached out a trembling hand, extending two fingers, middle and fore, to feel her neck for a pulse. Nothing. It was really true.
“Cheat! Cheat! Cheat!” he barked.
Though he could hardly think, he slowly grasped what had happened. She had worked her head up through the restraints. It must have been an agonizing process. The head harness was cinched tight. But somehow she had gotten it so that one leather strap circled her neck.
Then the girl had strangled herself.
Strangled herself. He should never have left the bitch alone.
The Corean master considered himself something of an anatomical expert. He understood that normally it was a physical impossibility for a human being to self-asphyxiate. Yes, one can hang oneself, that happened all the time. That was gravity doing the job. But it wasn’t what had occurred here. There was plenty of give in the restraint strap. It was sized for a head and hung loosely around the throat.
This creature, this rancid little whore, this bound-and-gagged swindler had accomplished an unachievable feat. She had pushed her windpipe against the strap and held it there long enough to die.
It was an act of defiance.
The Corean master tried to remember her name, her real name, not her slave name. Marjorie? MaryAnn? Something with an “M.”
An ugly, weak feeling took over his groin, familiar in his youth but since then exiled from his life by sheer determination. He felt his member shrivel. She had robbed him of his manhood.
After he went to the toilet and vomited, he returned to the kitchen. He intentionally avoided glancing into the first bedroom as he passed. Let her rot. He opened the refrigerator and took out one of the peach wine coolers that he so loved.
He was back to square one. He would have to start again. Again, again, again. So many do-overs!
The Corean master made a promise to himself. He would find the perfect one. He would finally accomplish what he had been put on earth to do.
He would create his masterpiece.