Wednesday, 14 October 2015

The Frighteningly Fun Halloween Tour

Will O' the Wisp
C.S. Boyack

Will O' the Wisp is a paranormal tale from C. S. Boyack. It involves a mildly handicapped girl facing a mysterious threat. The wisp has been killing off Patty Hall's family for generations, and she's next on the list. It is suitable for young adult readers. It's a perfect Halloween read.

Patty Hall is perfectly prepared for the wrong problem. She is enamored with the space race, and knows the history of NASA by heart. She is faced with an ancient threat that has been targeting the Hall family for generations.  Hampered by an overprotective mother, if Patty can't figure it all out in time, she may be the next member in the Hall family cemetery plot.

It's not hard enough to be a fifteen year old girl, and a social outcast. As she watches her friends mature and grow, she has to face the idea of never turning sixteen. Please consider joining Patty on her incredible adventure.

An Excerpt to wet your taste...

 Will O' the Wisp is also a coming of age story. Patty wears corrective leg braces, and has a strained relationship with her mother. It seems like they both try, but never at the same time. Readers might enjoy a taste of this side story today.

Mom had an old purple bridesmaid's dress over the dining room table. Her tomato full of pins and needles sat beside it. It was a pretty purple dress that went clear to the floor.
She clasped her hands together and bent at the knees. She made a desperate looking smile and said, "Guess what I did today?"
I sat down my lunchbox and held my hands apart.
She pulled out a ticket. "I bought you a ticket to the dance. There's no time to buy a dress, so I need to alter this one. I need you to try it on real quick."
I flopped into one of the chairs and my jaw dropped open. "Mom, no. How could you do this to me?"
"I thought you'd be happy. Laura's no better than you, so you're going to that dance too. The dress is long enough to cover your braces and everything."
"She is better than me. An actual boy asked her to the dance. No one asked me. It's just pitiful when girls go stag. I'm already a freak, and this is like putting a cherry on top."
"Well, you're going and that's final. You have to live a normal life, and that means experiencing normal things. Now go put this dress on."
I swept up the dress and stomped upstairs. Stupid crippled girl in a stupid hand-me-down dress that's ten years out of style. Isn't she sad standing in the corner all alone? That was the best possible outcome.
The worst outcome was everyone making fun of me out loud. Or girls who forced their boyfriends to dance with me. Or jocks who dared each other to dance with me. God, she could be so stupid sometimes.
I got undressed and didn't bother to hang up my school clothes. I yanked the dress over my head and went into the bathroom. It was so stupidly out of style, but the color was nice.
I lifted it up and clanked downstairs. The hem caught in my braces and tore a little bit.
"It's too long anyway," Mom said, "no problem." She raised the bottom and pinned it where she thought it looked best. Then she bunched up the back and pinned some more. She led me to the sewing room to look in the mirror behind the door.
I actually looked pretty good. I curled my lip and looked at a ruffled thingy on my shoulder.
"Well, what do you think?" she asked.
"Does it matter?"
"Not with that attitude. This dance will be whatever you make of it. You know you have to be bigger than the few small minds around you. Now haul it off so I can get to work, and don't knock my pins out."
I hoisted the dress off and slapped it against her chest. "That fluffy part has to go."
"Fine, now you can go call your friends and tell them all about it. You're just as good as they are."
"I'm not calling anyone. There'll be more than enough sympathy and shame the night of the dance." I stomped back upstairs in my underwear and screamed into my pillow.

You can pick up a copy on Amazon using your Kindle or a free reading app. Download it here:

North American version:

International version:

Author Bio
I was born in a town called Elko, Nevada. I like to tell everyone I was born in a small town in the 1940s. I'm not quite that old, but Elko has always been a little behind the times. This gives me a unique perspective of earlier times, and other ways of getting by. Some of this bleeds through into my fiction.

I moved to Idaho right after the turn of the century, and never looked back. My writing career was born here, with access to other writers and critique groups I jumped in with both feet.

I like to write about things that have something unusual. My works are in the realm of science fiction, paranormal, and fantasy. The goal is to entertain you for a few hours. I hope you enjoy the ride.

Follow Craig at the following locations:

Check out all my novels here:

On Goodreads:

"This tour sponsored by"

Sunday, 4 October 2015

New Release ~ The Chronicler welcomes back Joshua Grasso

It is not often I come across a book that gets me in from the very first chapter; I don't expect it to happen that way and give a book due time to pique my interest. Joshua Grasso's The Astrologer's Portrait was one of those rare gem's that hooked me from the getgo... with his whimsical narration and charming story telling, it engenders everything that got me into fantasy in the first place.  Imagine my excitement when I heard his new book, The Winged Turban was available to read on Kindle, Sept 14th. Therefore, I could not resist inviting him back to my blog to showcase his latest work which has already received rave reviews on




Beatrice is the victim of an arranged match to the Duke of Saffredento, who hastily abandons her to an estate full of forgotten traditions and curses. When the portrait of a strange woman begins turning up in the house, she summons the great sorcerer, Hildigrim Blackbeard, to investigate. The portrait, it seems, has traveled through time to find her—and bring her back by any means necessary. For she can no longer be Beatrice of Saffredento, but a young woman who died two-hundred years ago and must be reborn through the magic of an Enchanted Circle. But no one in recorded history has ever conjured such a Circle, though quite a few have gone mad in the attempt...

What readers are already saying....

"I was hooked by the narrative voice, which is an enjoyable and often humorous pressence."
"This absorbing story is creepy enough to make you fear for the protagonist, and has enough twists to keep you reading." 
"'The Winged Turban' had my skin crawling."
"Brilliantly Atmospheric"


An excerpt to give you a small taste...

Beatrice found a suitable place for the portrait where she could easily lie in bed and see her, but could also flip to the other side and forget she existed. In the small hours of the night, she wavered between fear and fascination. Not that she entertained the slightest belief in the supernatural. No, the artist had simply copied some portrait he glimpsed in a gallery, or even one of his rival’s creations. What did concern her was the sitter’s identity. Clearly she was somebody, or had been, in some drawing room in decades’ past. What concerned her even more were the eyes. They never turned away from her. Why had the painter depicted them in this way, not looking just to the left or right, but directly, boldly, at the viewer? At her?

She turned over and willed herself to sleep. Beatrice had long since become accustomed to the sounds of the estate. What at first kept her awake became almost soothing, or at least predictable in its rhythmic convulsions. Tonight, however, the estate was silent. Nothing moved or spoke. Servants seemed entirely absent from the hallways. Thoughts raced in her head, daring her to turn around and look at it again, just to make sure. To make sure of what? That it was still there? Of course it’s still there, she told herself. Where else would it go? Paintings exist for the pleasure of their owners. They only have what life, what meaning, we give them. The poor woman, whoever she was, is dead and buried; no painter, not even Signor Fabrizio, could restore her to life.

At some point these thoughts merged into dreams. Most of them involved sitting for a portrait, though in the latest one she was completely alone. The painter had vanished. For whatever reason, she remained standing, terrified to move a muscle. Yes, something was watching, inspecting her with the eye of a connoisseur.  Days passed as did the hope that someone would relieve her. At length she realized, I’m not waiting to be painted, I am the painting—I’m in it now, being stared at. I’ll never leave. She screamed but nothing came out, the cries silent behind her smile. Cold, wet terror swept over her as her limbs refused to move, her eyes to blink, her mouth to open. Her last thought before waking was can a painting die? Or must it live on, a work of untroubled beauty, forever?

Her heart beat so loudly she wanted to stuff it under her pillow before it woke the servants. Sweat ran down her forehead as she stared through the darkness. Stars gleamed out the window. Just a dream—too much excitement. What did she expect? Months of total isolation before the artist’s arrival…she naturally projected her fears and desires onto the painting. In a sense, she had created it. As she slowly came to, details of the room fell into place: the end table, the curtains, a chair in the corner. Now all she had to do was look at it. Once I see it, I’ll know and understand. Then I can go back to sleep. She blinked and squinted, waiting for the vision to appear. Didn’t I hang it over the end table, in perfect line of sight with the bed? That seemed right, though in her scrambled state she couldn’t be sure. Her eyes scanned the wall for the familiar outline which never emerged.

She slowly crawled over the bed for a candle. Opening the tinder box, she laboriously—clumsily—conjured a spark and ignited the wick. A small blue flame shot up, but gradually subsided into a duller yellow. The Duchess raised it toward the wall, the feeble light groping over object after object. Finally she reached the spot where she knew the painting would be. She could see it in her mind, remember hanging it on that very spot. It wasn’t there. Her mouth went dry at the prospect before her. It must have fallen. She lowered the light toward the floor, inch by inch, terrified to do it too quickly. Clawing through the night, the candle revealed her clogs, overturned just as she kicked them off...a scrap of paper, possibly from her cousin’s latest letter...and nothing else.

She screamed until a parade of servants appeared at her door, half-dressed and wide-eyed with terror. Without words she gesticulated to the wall but couldn’t bear to look at it again. A young servant ran from the room in tears. Another, older woman, knelt to the Beatrice’s side and took her hand.

“Bad dreams, my lady, it’s nothing to fear,” she whispered.

“The painting!” she finally gasped. “Where is it?”

“Why, it’s right where you left it, don’t you remember?”

“Remember!” she shrieked. “Of course I do, I hung it there—right on the wall! It’s gone!”

“My lady…we saw you come down hours ago. You moved it.”

“I….moved it?” she said, barely breathing.

“Yes, you swept through the hallway carrying the painting,” the servant nodded, feigning a smile. “Didn’t say a word to any of us…and hung it right in the Great Hall.”

Beatrice shook her head violently from side to side. She did not—she had not! She had never left the bed. Surely she would have remembered getting up in utter darkness and hanging a portrait! That portrait!

“Naturally we wondered at your doing it at so late an hour,” the servant continued, soothingly. “But it’s not our business to question, and you did seem so determined. All the great ladies have their whims and fancies, and though we lower folk struggle to understand them, it usually makes sense in the end. Now come, a little rest…”

Beatrice shot up and ran past them, down the hallway, down the stairs and literally flung herself into the Great Hall. And there it was: hung in the very position of her husband’s great ancestor, staring down at her with knowing, intimate eyes. For the first time, however, she saw something else inside them. A threat. I’ve come to take my place in the house.

Beatrice fainted.

From the Author... 

I was born in Mineola, NY, but actually grew up as a Southerner in Atlanta, GA and Tulsa, OK. I've spent all of my adult life writing, and used this passion for writing--and reading, as the two are inextricably related in my mind--to fuel myself through three degrees, getting my Ph.D. in British Literature in 2006. I've been a professor of English at a small university in Oklahoma ever since, teaching many of the books I grew up loving, as well as many I've discovered along the way. I've written at least 6 novels, most of them since finishing grad school, though only three are currently (self) published on Amazon: The Count of the Living Death, The Astrologer's Portrait, and most recently, The Winged Turban.

 Other books by Joshua Grasso...

Available on Amazon

Where to buy

Connect with Joshua

The Fantasy & Sci-Fi Network is a collection of authors, bloggers, and reviewers who are passionate about finding and creating quality fantasy/sci-fi books which are also teen safe (G, PG, or PG-13 rated). The FSF Network believes it is possible to create fantastic works of fantasy and science fiction without resorting to graphic violence, explicitly harsh language, or sex.

Twitter hashtag: #FSFNet
Twitter handle: @FSFNet

Friday, 14 August 2015

The Chronicler welcomes Y.A author S.M Spencer

Today I welcome fellow Rave Reviews Book Club member, S.M Spencer as part of her blog tour for her young adult fantasy series set in my own homeland, Australia. 

Absent Shadows Blog Tour  

           SM Spencer

Hello, and thanks for stopping by on my blog tour! I would like to thank today’s host for having me here, and also 4Wills Publishing for organizing this tour for me. To see all the stops on the tour, check out their website:


Q & A - SM Spencer, author of the Absent Shadows Trilogy:
What was it that made you decide to become a writer?

I think the desire to be a writer started in my teens. I read a lot and would often get caught up in the characters, living their stories long after I’d finished the books. I had a great deal of respect for authors that could do that, and I wanted to be like them.

What authors inspired you when you were younger as well as now?

Daphne du Maurier, Mary Stewart, J.R.R. Tolkien and Ray Bradbury were among my favourite authors when I was young, and now I tend to go through various genre moods. I devoured the Harry Potter books and The Chronicles of Narnia (didn’t everyone?) but also enjoy finding an author with a continuing series, like Patricia Cornwell, John Lescroart and Janet Evanovich. I particularly enjoy a good mystery/thriller with a romantic element.

Lately I’ve been reading a lot of fellow indie authors, from the Rave Reviews Book Club (RRBC) the indieBRAG Medallion site, and Awesome Indies just to mention a few of the sources. There are some incredibly talented authors out there that don’t get a lot of publicity and it’s such a pleasure to stumble upon them.

What inspired you to write the Absent Shadows Trilogy?

I was working around the corner from Melbourne’s Queen Victoria Markets, up near the Flagstaff Gardens. Walking around at lunchtime, I started sensing that I was smack dab in the middle of the perfect setting for ghosts and vampires—and the story just developed from there.

Of course, the late night ghost tours I’d done in the area, where I’d learned the history of the cemetery under the market’s carpark and about ghost sightings all throughout the area, really helped. And like many, I was caught up in the resurgence in popularity of vampires.

Will we see these characters again?

I believe so—the continuing story is bubbling away in my mind, and when it’s ready, it’ll surface. I’m just waiting for the next generation to grow up a bit!

You grew up in California and now live in Australia. Do you feel this helped with writing the story?

I think everyone’s writing is influenced to some extent by where they were brought up, and where they currently live. In the Absent Shadows trilogy, I was able to give Lili the experience that I’d had. She travelled to a new country and felt desperate to fit in, not wanting to look or sound like a tourist.

I think enjoying the benefit of having lived in both the US and Australia certainly added credibility to Lili’s story. All the places she went to both in California and Australia were places I’d been to myself (with the exception of a few completely fictional locations).

Were any of the characters taken from real life?

Aspects of the characters were inspired by people I’ve known, but none were taken from any one person in particular.

What other genres are you writing in?

I’m currently writing a contemporary/rural romance and also science fiction/thriller.

If you could trade places with one of your characters, who would it be and why?

Crystal. I loved writing her. She is caring, and beautiful, and gentle and all things feminine. But at the same time, she is strong and powerful, and not to be messed with. She is Aphrodite and Athena wrapped up in one awesome little package.

What is it about vampires that made you decide to use them as your main “creature"?

Mostly, I think it’s a bit of that beauty and the beast thing—seeing through the horrible exterior to the goodness that dwells deep inside. You have this hero who is handsome and charming, but also deadly, dark and powerful. And the heroine sees all sides of him and falls in love with him anyway.

Where do you see yourself and your career in the next ten years?

I love where I am right now. It’s taken me a lot of years to get here, and I’m savoring the ability to progress my journey toward becoming a better writer. I hope to continue with my writing, as well as encouraging and supporting other indie authors.

What are three things that might surprise your readers to find out about you?

Growing up, my favourite TV shows were Dark Shadows, The Twilight Zone and Outer Limits. I loved all things paranormal, and one side of me truly regrets not doing a degree in parapsychology.

My favourite food, and the one I’d chose if I could only have one for the rest of my life—tortilla chips (or as we say here in Australia, corn chips)! And a bit of salsa on the side, please.

My favourite sound—a kitten purring. There is, quite simply, nothing better. Well, perhaps there is one better sound … the soft uttering of the words ‘thank you’. And I’d like to say them to you for providing this wonderful opportunity for me to connect with you and your followers.

Where can readers find you and buy your trilogy?

Only on Amazon:

They can also follow me on Facebook at: for advice about upcoming promotions as well as updates on the books I’m currently working on.

The Absent Shadows Trilogy is the story of nineteen year-old Lili McIntyre who decides to trade her California summer for a mid-winter visit to Australia in hope of finding inspiration and direction in the country where her father was born. 

When she arrives in Melbourne, the first thing Lili finds is the last thing she’s looking for—a brooding man who makes her heart race every time she sees him. Against her better judgement, Lili finds herself drawn into a relationship that tests her very beliefs about life, reality and fantasy. 

Follow Lili’s journey across Australia as she searches for her destiny, faces some of the hardest decisions of her life, makes incredible sacrifices, and encounters deception in places where it is least expected.

Destiny Excerpt:

Sometimes, when something bad happens, time seems to slow to a crawl.
Like that time I was running to visit my friend who lived down the street. I was only about ten at the time, but it seemed like it was yesterday. I remember exactly how it felt as I ran down that street toward her house. And how, when I was only part way there, I stepped on an acorn and my foot rolled out from under me. As I fell, the pavement got closer and closer to my face—in horrible slow-motion. I hit the ground with my hands stretched out in front of me, scraping the skin off both palms. They barely bled but man they hurt like crazy.
Yes, I could replay that memory like a slow-motion movie in my head even now—years later.
But this … well, this wasn’t like that.
What happened next was like a series of still photos. Tom flew out of the bedroom in a blur, but stopped just long enough for the image of his face to be burnt into my mind. His eyes were no longer soft brown, but were instead a glowing red, and his normally tanned complexion was now pallid grey. But what really stood out was the blood that ran down from the corner of his mouth.
Then I heard Sam’s voice—loud and harsh. ‘Go!’
Tom was gone and I heard the door slam.
I closed my eyes for no more than a long blink—it couldn’t have been more than a second—but when I opened them, Sam was in the bedroom, bending over Claire. Was he doing something to her neck? She was so still.
I ran to the doorway but stopped short of going in. I couldn’t draw a breath to scream or talk. I just stood there, frozen.

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

Who's in the mood for a draw?

 Celebrate 500 & 5000

Fantasy Sci-Fi Network fellow author and friend, Elieen Schuh has just begun a special draw on her blog Magic of the Muses. It is in honour of reaching 5000 twitter followers and 500 facebook likes. She is offering two lucky winners a pick of her novels in eBook or paperback format.


 But that's not all, a number authors have contributed books to add to the fun...

Pauline Barclay - Storm Clouds Gathering
Luke Murphy - Kiss & Tell
Beth Fehlbaum - Big Fat Disaster
Brian Guthrie - Rise
Gilli Allan - Fly or Fall
Robin Lythgoe - As the Crow Flies
Melody Maysonet - A Work of Art
C. Lee Mckenzie - Any

And as seen on this blog

I have also added my name to the list and have offered one lucky reader in Canada or USA a paperbook copy of Titanian Chronicles - Journey of Destiny Book 1 (Book 2 out in September 2015)

 So get in there and pick your wish... you might just get lucky!
For more information check it out on Eileen's blog, here's the link...

Tuesday, 9 June 2015

Meet Author M.P McVey

It's been a bit quiet on the new release front but the many amazing authors at Fantasy Sci-Fi Network continue to lose sleep as they attempt to get their newest works out into the public's hands. I know, I'm one of them. yawn*
The new release pool has not completely dried up though and Author M.P McVey is a shinning example of this. His debut book hit the shelves (digital and otherwise) in February and is well worth a looking.  Combining science fiction and fantasy elements, McVey takes the reader deep into the Earth's centre to reveal an elephant on an endless march; slowly, slowly turning the world.

M.P. McVey

At the center of earth exists Temelephas. Created as an insensitive automaton, he is chained to his wooden wheel, ever turning our world. Never to feel, never to remember ... he was made to only walk. Earth is ravaged by a storm the likes of which humanity's meteorologists have never seen, leaving nothing but questions. Cities are left in rubble and people like Edward and Lily begin to put their lives back together, all while afraid of the storm's possible resurgence. Destruction lays in wait for Earth and its inhabitants, and there is nothing they can do. It is left to a sole Watcher--those that guard over all in creation, sent on a fool's errand to save the earth, humanity, and most likely the universe. "Walk, walk, walk, through the darkness he would stomp; his feet pounding his life into the earth."

What readers are already saying...

"McVey not only presents us with a fabulous tale, but he makes us question the nature of stories themselves."
"Very good read! Hard to put down." 

An excerpt to give you a small taste...

The center of Earth shook and rumbled with the sounds of creaking wood and grinding metal, tumbling through the dark. The din swept through caverns, accompanied by the boom, boom, boom of steady, heavy steps.
It would have driven any man crazy, this racket that crept through the darkness, but it was comforting to the one who had to listen. It was a noise he had always known, a sound that was born with him. He was the reason for the noise.
     For all time he had walked his circle; his large, gray feet beating a pattern into the dirt. Round and round he went, his weight pushing the large, wooden wheel to which he was bound. He groaned from time to time … long, soulful bellows from his wrinkled trunk.
     His ancient head swayed with the thudding beat of his steps, his long immortal ears hanging tiredly at his sides. He would walk until the end of time. He didn’t want to, but he was compelled to. It was his purpose … and without purpose, what would be left?
     So he walked.
     He could feel their eyes upon him, those that watched him, those that kept him in this existence … those who gave him purpose. Their stares penetrated the thick hide of his neck, burrowed into his spine and peeked in to his brain, listening in on his every thought. That’s how they watched him, how they knew when he was unhappy.
     They were in his mind every second of forever, and he came to expect their presence there. After a while he lost track of his Watchers all together, as if they were just another part of him. Life would not have been the same without them.
     The Watchers always knew that, sooner or later, the great elephant called Temelephas would work through whatever unhappiness it was that settled in his large heart. After all, he had been walking since the beginning of everything and knew of nothing to which he could compare his sorrow.
     Walk, walk, walk, through the darkness he would stomp; his feet pounding his life into the earth. Around he went, his sweaty, tangled hair fl owing down around his neck. “Round and round she goes, where she stops … nobody knows.”

My personal review... 

Plod On, Sleepless Giant is a captivating fantasy with a loveable host of characters that feel real and engaging; from interesting little people called minikins who help in the running of the inner world to Temelephas an elephant with the most vital and important job of all. While written within the realms of our own world, the author offers a different narrative to it's organisation and creation and in addition how it is turned on its axis... by an elephant at its centre, who'd have thought!? For me the story started a little slow but once Temelephas missed an all important step in his eternal tread it all started happening and hooked me right in. I could barely put the book down. With a couple of stories above ground with seemingly ordinary people and one or two happening below it is hard to imagine how it will all come together to make one complete story... but it does... in quite an unexpected way. This is a great first book from Author M.P McVey.  

Fun fact about the book from McVey...

The main idea for 'Plod On, Sleepless Giant' came to me in a dream. In the dream, I was walking through dark caverns, hearing the far off thundering of heavy footsteps. In my mind I knew I was in the middle of the earth.
     Though the noise scared me, curiosity drove me closer and closer to the noise. And there, in the center of the earth, I found an ancient elephant chained to a wheel. He was so huge and old, he seemed to have been chiseled out of a large block of granite, his skin was so craggy.
     I knew that he was why the earth turned ... No one had to tell me, it was just inherent knowledge at that point. Then he stopped his walk, and the groaning of his wooden wheel ceased ... Then the earth around us quaked and grumbled, and I knew the world had stopped.
     I immediately wrote the idea down, just the main idea. I had to be quick about it, because the idea was becoming more and more vague in my mind ... Like a shadowy figure running to the back of my brain.

About the Author...

M.P. McVey was born Michael Patrick McVey in Fort Hood, Texas. Being a military family, the McVeys bounced around a lot, even doing a three year stint in Germany. He now lives in Columbus, Ohio with his supportive and patient girlfriend, Laura. They have a one-eyed cat named Stanley and an ornery kitten called Gandalf, the mostly gray. He creates worlds filled with magic and intrigue, drawing upon the city and people that surround him for inspiration. All that he accomplishes in his life is due to the support he finds from friends, and family.

Where to buy

Connect with Michael

The Fantasy & Sci-Fi Network is a collection of authors, bloggers, and reviewers who are passionate about finding and creating quality fantasy/sci-fi books which are also teen safe (G, PG, or PG-13 rated). The FSF Network believes it is possible to create fantastic works of fantasy and science fiction without resorting to graphic violence, explicitly harsh language, or sex.

Twitter hashtag: #FSFNet
Twitter handle: @FSFNet

Tuesday, 21 April 2015

New Short Story in the Flawed Series: Constricted by Becca J. Campbell

A Short Story Companion to the Flawed Series

Today is the release for Constricted, a brand new short story related to Becca J. Campbell’s Flawed series. This story coincides with the events in Empath (Flawed #1), and takes place in Logan's point of view. You'll need to read Empath first to thoroughly enjoy this story.

If you haven't already, download a free copy of Empath (links below). Read on to find out more about Constricted.

Constricted (A Flawed Short Story)


Logan’s secret has been exposed. When Jade—a beautiful student at the college where he teaches—discovered the truth, he spilled the whole repulsive story. Jade’s empathetic kindness flooded him with emotions he didn’t know he had and isn’t sure he wants to deal with.

It would be the easiest thing in the world to leave and let Jade be a whisper in his past. He can exit now and regain his anonymity, or he can risk everything to stay and face her again.

It’s not an easy choice, and when he’s about to decide, a woman from his past shows up, making his decision even more difficult.

What really happened when Logan disappeared during Empath? Find out in this short story companion piece to Flawed #1.
Get your copy now:

Get Empath for Free

Empath eBook cover WEB

Supernatural empathy isn’t a gift, it’s a curse. Anywhere she goes, Jade’s emotions are replaced by those of the people around her.

Jade grew up in a suburb of Colorado Springs, protected from other people by her parents. Now she faces college—and the world—with nothing to shield her from unwanted feelings.

When Cam, a classmate with a major crush on her, unintentionally hijacks her emotions, Jade struggles to keep from being carried away in feelings of attraction. When Ethan, a psychopath with a thirst for fear, fixates on her, the emotional impact could be lethal.

Caught in a deadly trap, Jade must untangle the emotions and find a way to use her empathic curse to overcome this killer or be overcome by him.

Empath is now FREE on most sales channels.

More About Becca J. Campbell

IMG_9824 BW small

Becca J. Campbell writes New Adult (twenty-somethings) fiction that varies from Urban Fantasy to Thriller to Science Fiction. Her stories typically blend a taste of the fantastical with real-world settings and add a dash of romance for good measure.

She's always looking for a great speculative fiction read, and she holds a special place in her heart for any story that involves superpowers or time travel. Her passion is defying the limits of her own creativity.

Becca is also the co-creator of, where you can join a vibrant community and write a novel during June.

To join Becca’s writing journey and be notified when her next book is released, sign up for her author newsletter.
Connect Online:

Friday, 10 April 2015

#DEAR - Drop Everything And Read Sale at #FSFNet

Drop Everything And Read... Why?
because there is a certain magic in books... a power to open your mind up to different times and different places... sometimes even different worlds or planets or spaces.
Books can transport you from your every day menial activities, from the humdrum of normal life to something unexpected, divergent and satisfying.
Stories can teach, inspire and empower... or they can give comfort, security and refuge.
You can be anything you ever dreamed... but unlike a dream you are likely to remember it. If you don't, even better... read it afresh and enjoy it all over again.

Here are some books you might fancy feasting on when you suddenly decide to Drop Everything And Read... They are all 99c or lower this weekend so you may want to pick up a few.

Recommended by the Fantasy Sci-Fi Network... but here's the deal... that magic in books... it takes two halves to create... the first half comes from the author who believes in their story enough to write the words into the form of a book... the second part of the magic only happens when someone reads those spellbinding words... then the book comes alive.

So Drop Everything And Read one or more of these great titles and watch the magic happen... Click here for links to each one.

Saturday, 4 April 2015

New Release Sci-Fi - Thought Gazer by Raymond Bolton

This weeks new release feature is from Fantasy Sci-Fi Network author, Raymond Bolton. This Indie Reader Approved and award winning author, who's had plenty of his own adventures to add fuel to his imagination, released his second book Thought Gazer on January 1st 2015. It is the first book of Awakenings prequel trilogy. 


Everyone who touches you transforms you, if only a little. But if you enter their minds, think what they have thought, in effect do what they have done, how complete will that transformation be?
The warlord, Hath Kael, kidnaps Darva, an opposing warlord's sister, to force her brother to surrender. When Bedistai, from a tribe of hunters, foils the abduction and undertakes Darva's return, Kael recruits Peniff, a telepath, to locate the two. Peniff's talent makes him a fine weapon in anyone's arsenal, and Kael ensures his cooperation by holding his wife and children hostage. But Peniff, a good man, refuses to play the game and instead comes to the couple's aid. This is the story of a man, in all other ways ordinary, rising above his fears to do what is morally right. Make no mistake about it, his power is considerable. But can he rescue his family before his betrayal comes to light? Moreover, what will he become before his journey is over? Thought Gazer, the second volume of The Ydron Saga, is the first book of Awakening's prequel trilogy.

What readers are already saying about The Ydron Saga...

"An interesting combination of really creepy 'bad guys' and good guys..."
"This was a well written sci-fi novel that left no loose ends. The story was original and plausible." 
"...because the action in Raymond's novel is so fast paced and the characters so engrossing, I found myself totally immersed in the world that Raymond has created." 

An excerpt to give you a taste of what's in store...

To say Harad was relentless is to understate the rage that drove him. He had pushed his party mercilessly until eventually, one of the horses, driven to exhaustion, fell and refused to rise. When Harad began flogging it, Peniff tore his leash from Kord’s grasp, strode up to Harad and grabbed him by the wrist, arresting the whip at the top of its arc. Harad turned to glare.
“You will kill it and still it will not rise.” In a soft, but deliberate tone, Peniff went on. “In fact, if you continue to deny the other horses rest or sleep, you will kill them all. Then what? Do you expect us to walk all the way to danHsar?”
Harad’s face became a mask of hate, but Peniff persisted.
“Even now, the man and the woman are entering the prison. Do you expect that somehow they will run away and evade us? I promise you, they will not escape any time soon. Look at your men. Even should we stumble on the pair in the next minute, they would be too exhausted to act.”
Harad was breathing heavily, but he opened the fist he had formed with his free hand and lowered it.
“We all want the same thing,” said Peniff. “Even this poor, dumb creature wishes to rise and avoid your wrath, but it cannot. Look at its eyes. They are filled with terror, but the animal is spent. It can do no more and neither can we.”
Harad could not deny the truth. The horse’s chest heaved, its mouth frothed and the whites of its eyes showed how deeply it feared the next strike of the lash.
“Very well, Thought Gazer,” Harad said as he looked from the horse to his men. “We will rest, even sleep if you like, but not one minute past Jadon’s rising. I intend to arrive at the city’s gate tomorrow.”
“And this poor beast will carry you there, if you but allow it to sleep the night, then feed and water it in the morning.”
As the two stood staring, it was hard to say who was in charge: the one with the whip, or the one with the collar around his neck.
“There are some things even you cannot simply will into being,” said Peniff.
Harad stared a moment longer, then threw the whip to the ground.
“Alright,” he hissed, before returning to his normal voice. “The thought gazer has declared a holiday. Rest, if that’s all you are good for. But I promise, in the morning we will cover ground as we have not done for days.”

Book I of The Ydron Saga

How does a world equipped with bows, arrows and catapults, where steam power is just beginning to replace horses and sailing ships, avert a conquest from beyond the stars? Prince Regilius has been engineered to combat the Dalthin, a predatory alien species that enslaves worlds telepathically, and to do so he must unite his people. But when his mother murders his father, the land descends into chaos and his task may prove impossible. Faced with slaying the one who gave him life in order to protect his world, he seeks a better way. Set in a vast and varied land where telepaths and those with unusual mental abilities tip the course of events, Awakening goes to the heart of family, friendship and betrayal.

Where Raymond finds his inspiration...

The Highwayman - Grist For the Pen

From September 1971 through August 1972, I hitchhiked and backpacked throughout Europe, spending days, weeks, even months in various locales. My adventures ranged from wondrous to perilous. Once, I lived with the owner and staff above Kipp’s, London’s sole vegetarian restaurant, where I mingled with the likes of Warren Beatty, Julie Christy and Marc Bolan. On another occasion, I milked cows on an Israeli kibbutz and explored ancient Jerusalem, sleeping in the prison where Christ was held. Some events, however, still chill me …

… like the time I hitched a ride into Paris.

I remember little about the young man who picked me up—longish, medium brown hair and a sparse moustache and beard that spoke of a youth in his early twenties. It was a gray afternoon and I was enjoying my first glimpse of the City of Lights when the rundown gray Volvo braked hard. I tore my gaze from the architecture only to stare down the barrels of dozens of automatic rifles, at helmeted police clad in body armor and ballistic face masks.

I was manacled, shoved into the caged rear seat of a police car and transported to headquarters where I was relieved of my passport and held. With no idea why they arrested me, what they thought I had done, who they thought I might be, I tried to explain I had met the driver only minutes before.

Eventually, they released me, perhaps because the one they had taken to interrogation confirmed my story. I have no idea why we were stopped, but a client of mine living in Europe at the time recalls that the terrorist group, Baader Meinhof, was very active then and numerous arrests were being made throughout Europe. What else could explain such an overwhelming show of force?

Then, in February, 1972, there were the three Portuguese revolutionaries who drove me from Copenhagen to Hamburg, discussing their plans to overthrow the dictator, Oliveira Salazar. I still have the business card of the printer who invited me to visit, should he survive the coup. On April 25, 1973, the authoritarian Estado Novo regime did fall.

Days later, I had just climbed from a concert cellist’s car at an autobahn restaurant near Karlsruhe. I was sitting down to eat when a man asked if I were going to Munich. When I replied in the affirmative, he said if I wanted a lift, to grab my food and come with him.

During the drive, he related how, as a hashish dealer, he gone into hiding after evading arrest two weeks earlier. Friends had phoned that it was safe to return. At one point, the conversation turned to black market merchandise. The most valuable thing one could sell, he said, was an American passport. Conversation halted. We both knew what I had. After long minutes of silence—now well after dark—he suggested we stop somewhere—to eat, he explained. The first likely place was brightly lit. Many parked cars. As I expected, he kept driving. The next autobahn restaurant, however, was deserted—the perfect place for what he was planning. Once inside, I headed for the restroom. If matters escalated, I needed to empty my bladder. Before returning to the common area, I adjusted my sweater to reveal the Buck knife holstered on my belt. Bigger than he and armed, I went out to confront him. One glance, and he was once again the genial host.

I made him drop me off at Munich’s outskirts and walked six hours until I reached the city center. At the Hauptbahnhof—the main train station—I purchased a ticket.

These days, I write thrillers, preferring not to live them.

About the Author...

Raymond Bolton divides his time between Santa Fe, New Mexico and Portland, Oregon.
Prior to being published, he won several awards for his work. Most recently, under its
working title, Renunciation, Awakening was a finalist in the Pacific Northwest Writers
Association's 2013 literary competition from among hundreds of entries from the US, the UK, Canada, Europe and Australia. It also won's June 2013 First Chapter competition. From April 2011, until it was disbanded in December 2012, Raymond was an invited, featured contributor for the writers' blog, Black Ink, White Paper.

Where to buy

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