Interview & Giveaway: Lousy Magnet by Sally Max

UFI welcomes  Sally Max Author of Lousy Magnet. Thanks for Joining us!!

What can you tell my readers about yourself that they might not know from looking on your bio or reading in another interview?
 
I'm awesome. Oh, wait. You can probably tell that from my bio. But, overall, I'm quite awesome. I'm also good-looking, witty, smart, and incredibly humble.

What do you enjoy doing on your down time?
 
I enjoy sleeping on my down time. Nothing beats a good nap.

What is your Favorite part of writing? 
 
I enjoy the sitting part of writing. Typically, I don't write standing. In my day job, I stand all day long, and... well... standing bad, and sitting is good.

Do you have any certain routines you must follow as you write?
 
Not really. I try and change my routine up to see if I like a certain routine better than another most of the time. I like to plot for a few days before starting a project, at least to know where it is going, but I've started a projected that I had no idea where it was going, and it turned out OK too. Actually that story is coming out later this month. It is called My Fair Vampire.
 
What are some of your Favorite books or Authors in the Urban Fantasy/ Paranormal Genres?
 
Besides my own paranormal books, I really liked the Harlequin Royal House of Shadows series.

How would you pitch Lousy Magnet to someone who has not heard of it before?
 
A fun spaceship romp!

Can you tell us a little bit about the world that Lousy Magnet is set in? 
 
It is a sci-fi world where the earth has expanded onto the moon, Mars and is now colonizing Saturn's moon of Titan.

Do you have a favorite scene in Lousy Magnet?
 
Lee and Clint just wanted to join the (several million) mile high club on the space shuttle.

Which character was your favorite to write about? What about the hardest to write about?
 
The hardest character to write was Clint's mother. She was the one that didn't know about the relationship.

What Other Projects can we look forward to reading from you?
 
My Fair Vampire, a short story is coming out at the end of the month!

This or That

Answered as Lee from Lousy Magnet by Sally Max

Angels or Demons
I have this bad boy image I can't get rid of.

Vampires or Shifters
Not sure why.

Left or Right
I'm right handed.

Up or Down
Clint and I are in a space shuttle for almost the whole story. So up, up, and away!

Pizza or Pasta
Lived on it while Clint was away.

Coffee or Tea
Keeps me up.

Coke or Pepsi
What Dolly ordered.

YA or Adult
;-)

Knives or Guns
Clint has a laser gun, not a knife.

Reading or Writing
I'm a newspaper writer.

Facebook or Twitter/ Neither that don't exist anymore.

_________________________

After not being able to answer, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" when she was little, Sally Max decided she wouldn't settle on just one profession. Instead, she lives vicariously through her characters on the page, and gets a taste of every possible scenario she can imagine.

Sally Max currently resides in central Florida with her fiancé and a rambunctious black and white tuxedo kitty.

Find Sally and her books

Website / Goodreads / Twitter

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Lousy Magnet
Buy Link

 A fledgling romance separated by over 790 million miles isn't Lee's worst problem. His best friend turned secret lover wants to keep their relationship hidden. On a surprise visit home to Mars, can Lee convince his boyfriend that he is worth taking a chance on?

Lee and Clint haven't seen each other in over two years. Ever since Clint deployed to Saturn's moon Titan, their communication consisted of short emails and spotty voice messages.

The last leave home didn't end with good memories. It culminated in a confused and livid family, and the relationship remained concealed.

This time, can Lee and Clint keep their hands off each other long enough to solve their festering issues? Or will the past replay itself, and Lee will be left broken-hearted and alone... again.

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Excerpt: 

"It's been too long." Dolly smiled at him across the table. "What has it been, two years?" She must have realized the last time they had seen each other happened to be the same day her brother had shipped out. Glancing down, as if suddenly aware she had brought up a touchy subject, she fidgeted. Lee hadn't wanted him to go.

Twenty-two months, two weeks, a handful of days, but who's counting—

"Something like that," Lee tried to smile for her but couldn't make it go to his eyes. Instead, he just settled for a half-crooked grin that he hoped she would read as sincere. "Are you in town long?"

"You want to get rid of me?" Dolly teased, placing her hand on his.

Looking down at her small pixie-like hands, Lee realized they were just smaller versions of Clint's hands. The nail beds were the same size and shape. Even her cuticles were identical. Clint's hands were probably calloused and rough from his time away. When Lee looked up at her face, all he could see were Clint's eyes. How didn't he know that they had the same eyes? The blue of Earth's oceans matched in those two small globes. A pang of emotion swept over him and knotted in his stomach. He couldn't identify what it was. Regret? Longing? Sorrow?

"What's wrong?" Her soft southern drawl that she would never be rid of seeped out of her words. The same drawl that flowed from Clint's tongue every time they video messaged.

Tears sprang to his eyes. Lee would never call himself an emotional man, but at that second in time, he missed Clint with body, heart, soul, mind—every bit of his being. It went beyond reason, as the only thing he longed for in the universe was a hug from his fair-haired officer.

"You miss him that much, don't you?" Dolly asked as though reading his mind.

Lee coughed and blinked furiously. "Excuse me?"

"Lee Louis Love, I've known you since you couldn't pronounce my last name correctly and called me Dolly Wafers instead of Waters. We went to first grade together. I can tell how much you miss him." She started playing with her fork, then added softly, "We all do."

"I..." Lee didn't know what to say. Dolly was one of his best friends growing up, but he had never truly discussed his relationships with her. Clint and his affair needed to remain a secret. "So, what brings you to the Moon? I was a little surprised to hear from you."

"Truthfully?" Dolly asked. The waitress returned with Dolly's Coke and a Moon brand beer that was fairly common around the dome.

"Of course." Lee said.

"You."

A bit of beer went down the wrong pipe, and Lee started coughing. His face felt warm, as he hacked into his hand.

"Excuse me?" he croaked out between sputters.

"I know you are in love with Clint."

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Happy 5^th Birthday Breathless Press!!

In August, Breathless Press is turning 5!  To celebrate we are releasing a limited edition Hardcover collection of our special birthday Wonderland Tales and to make sure that you're able to indulge in a little birthday fun, we are also having a month long 50% off sale across our site (www.breathlesspress.com).

Wonderland Tales HC Buy Link

5th Birthday Rafflecopter Giveaway
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rahttp://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/05de02e13/

1st Prize: 1 x Limited Edition Hardcover copy of our birthda Wonderland Tales, a $20 Amazon GC and a $5 Breathless Press GC.

2nd Prize: Paperback print edition of our birthday Wonderland Tales, a $10 Amazon GC and a $5 Breathless Press GC

3rd Prize: A paperback print edition of our birthday Wonderland Tales, a $5 Amazon GC and a $3 Breathless Press GC

Review: Magic Breaks by Ilona Andrews

Magic Breaks

Author: Ilona Andrews

Release Date: July 29, 2014

Publisher: Ace

Kate Daniels Book #7

ISBN:   0425256227

ISBN13: 9780425256220

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Review Copy Source: Publisher

No matter how much the paranormal politics of Atlanta change, one thing always remains the same: if there’s trouble, Kate Daniels will be in the middle of it…

As the mate of the Beast Lord, Curran, former mercenary Kate Daniels has more responsibilities than it seems possible to juggle. Not only is she still struggling to keep her investigative business afloat, she must now deal with the affairs of the pack, including preparing her people for attack from Roland, a cruel ancient being with god-like powers. Since Kate’s connection to Roland has come out into the open, no one is safe—especially those closest to Kate.

As Roland’s long shadow looms ever nearer, Kate is called to attend the Conclave, a gathering of the leaders from the various supernatural factions in Atlanta. When one of the Masters of the Dead is found murdered there, apparently at the hands of a shapeshifter, Kate is given only twenty-four hours to hunt down the killer. And this time, if she fails, she’ll find herself embroiled in a war which could destroy everything she holds dear…

MAGIC BREAKS is jam packed with awesomeness. I'm not really sure what more the writing team of Ilona Andrews could have given us in MAGIC BREAKS and I don't want to give away spoilers because lets face it, you're going to want to savor every single second of every single scene in this book.

MAGIC BREAKS starts with Curan going out of town and leaving Kate in charge. She does a fantastic job of keeping everything together but Hugh is out for blood and Curan is just a tad late to the party.  Kate saves the pack but she unfortunately couldn't save herself. MAGIC BREAKS ends with a major life change in Curan and Kate's life after a roller coaster of a book.

Again, a TON happens, but one of the biggest developments was that we FINALLY meet Roland and end that particular story arc. He wasn't exactly what I expected but I was highly satisfied with the events that took place.

The never-ending world building is just one of the awesome parts of this series. It get's better and better as the series goes on. When you think you have something figured out, you're proven wrong. When you think you know the players, more are thrown into the mix. Kate continues to surprise me and I honestly can't imagine getting enough of her and this series.

I gave it 5/5 stars

* This book was provided free of charge from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

Promo: Forbidden Kiss by Shannon Leigh

Forbidden Kiss
Amazon.  Barnes Noble

Jule Casale is the perfect daughter. Obedient. Trustworthy. Loyal.  With her high profile Italian family, her public image must be impeccable. And now to gain the respect and position she's desired in the academic world, she hopes to discover the unknown artist behind a masterpiece of Renaissance art.

Rom Montgomery seeks the unobtainable: forgiveness. Those who could grant him relief are dead. Instead, he wanders across continents and through time searching for salvation and the means to right an ancient wrong. But when Jule comes knocking on his door, it's the closest he's ever come to finally finding redemption. The closer Rom draws to correcting his past mistakes, the more his secrets threaten to destroy the woman who might hold the key to his future.

Don’t miss out on great books from Entangled Publishing – Check out their Steals and Deals! 
 
http://www.entangledpublishing.com/category/steals-and-deals/

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EXCERPT:
Excerpt from
Forbidden Kiss
by Shannon Leigh
 

Copyright © 2014 by Shannon Leigh. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher. 

Chapter One 

Jule Casale stomped her Kelly-green rainboots on the top step of the converted warehouse. Fat droplets of water flew to the concrete, adding to the existing puddles forming in the hollows of the aging stoop. 

Typical Chicago. The promise of spring, so fresh and bright this morning, turned to torrential rain by late afternoon, soaking everything, including moods. But nothing would sour her outlook. Nope. Not with the tiny victory she’d achieved at finding one Rom Montgomery, the difficult SOB. 

So it was with the memory of that success in her mind that she rang the bell for the third time before the lock sounded and the door opened. 

And there he was. The reclusive and enigmatic Rom Montgomery, the bad boy collector of the fine antiquities world who defied the press and guarded his privacy with fists and curses. So private, he almost didn’t exist according to her research. At least not before ten years ago. 

He’d appeared on the antiquities scene like a bear in winter, unpredictable and unexpected. Aggressive and hostile. A predator who knew his quarry. He’d quickly established a reputation as a collector of ancient swords, and today occupied the top position as global expert on metallurgy and ancient weapons. 

Except right now in the waning light of late afternoon, on the wet back alley entrance to a hidden gallery, he wasn’t reclusive at all—he was close. Looming. Intimidating. Practically in her face. She couldn’t make him out other than as generally large and muscular, and her impatience regarding his aggression after her long investigation to find him flared to life. 

Antagonistic bastard. 

Jule refused to take a step back into the rain to accommodate such a display, but she did lean back to take him in. All—what appeared to be—six feet and more of him. If she didn’t have five older brothers cut from the same broad shouldered, towering cloth, she might have the good sense to be cowed. Instead, she became prickly as she did when backed into a corner—physically speaking. 

“Rom Montgomery?” she demanded. 

His whiskey colored eyes glowed in the shadows of the stoop, almost backlit by an internal fiery light. 

“A question? Really? Seems unnecessary since you made it to my unmarked door off an inconvenient side street.”

So it was going to be like that? 

“I’m Jule Casale,” she forced her hand into the space between them. “I spoke to you earlier this afternoon about the painting I’m trying to identify.” 

He didn’t acknowledge the earlier conversation. He simply looked down at her outstretched hand like she’d offered him a stack of forms for an IRS filing. 

“No thank you.” And he proceeded to shut the door in her face. 

“Hang on. It’s important!” Jule reacted quickly, wedging her booted foot between the closing door and the jam. The door stopped short of crushing her foot, and reopened, an indifferent expression greeting her once again. 

“I need to talk to you,” she said, her hand holding the door open. 

“You need to talk to someone who cares. Or make it worth my while. I don’t consult for free.” 

Jule had prepared for this. She’d looked long and hard for something to sway him to her cause. 

Here goes nothing. “For your cooperation, I’m willing to get you an introduction to the Great Dane Rescue Society. I know you’ve been trying to hook up with them, but have been rebuffed by the founder.” 

Jule counted the founder of the rescue group as a personal friend, and the woman had relayed Mr. Montgomery’s attempts at a women ‘n wine party, to not only donate money to the cause of caring for terminal dogs, but to host injured and special needs Danes in his home. 

Rejection met his request. The determination: an unsuitable environment for animals with specific needs. 

Jule wondered why the dogs were so important to him . Or why a guy with as much money as he had, cared about fostering terminal dogs. Had to be a story there, somewhere. 

Whatever his interest, his current body language relaxed and Jule considered that yet another victory. A smile teased the corners of his full mouth. And the door opened wide. 

“Come in.” He stepped back and admitted her. 

Jule crossed the threshold into the proverbial bear’s lair and shivered involuntarily. She’d bought her way in, now to get him to help her identify the painting she’d been working on these last few months.

She followed him into a concrete and glass vestibule, noting how his dark T-shirt stretched tight across his shoulders and strained at the arms, revealing large, muscular biceps. Holy crap! This guy is ripped. The small number of pictures she’d seen of him didn’t do his body justice. 

A tapered waist drew her eye to well-fitted jeans that encased strong thighs, and he had a nice ass. Really nice. 

“Jule Casale. Related to Edmondo Casale?” 

The nature of the question didn’t catch her off guard, just the fact he’d gotten to it before she even had her raincoat off. Seemed a bit rude, but then again, she was talking to a man who’d earned a name for himself with his sharp intellect and even sharper attitude. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact. He’s my father.” 

He grunted dismissively. “So you’ve come to discuss a painting?” He left her standing in the vestibule as he moved through an arched brick opening and into the gallery proper. She joined him, shrugging. If he didn’t care about rainwater dripping everywhere, neither did she. 

Swords, knives, daggers, and blades of every length and design served as art. They hung on the walls, lit from above, and were ensconced in cases, resting on rich velvet. There were even some lying freely on the desk and scattered on the few tables visible in the room. 

It gave Jule the willies all the way down to her cotton candy pink toenail polish. For the first time, she questioned her decision to force her way into the man’s domain. 

Too late now. 

Shaking off good common sense (a Casale trait), she stiffened her spine and planted herself directly in the middle of the room. 

“I told you on the phone, Ms. Casale,” he made her name sound like a weapon, sharp and hard like the swords hanging on the walls. “I don’t have any expertise in Renaissance art. Did you need to hear it in person?” 

He had indeed told her the very thing and then promptly hung up. 

“Look, I’m sorry if my father has done something to upset you. We’re not in the same business at all.” How many times did she have to apologize for her father’s mistakes? “But I’m here because the art world needs your help.” She reached in her pocket to retrieve the envelope of color images. 

As the world’s foremost collector and dealer of swords, both ancient and medieval, Montgomery could be her best and perhaps only hope to unlocking the identity of the painting in her possession. 

“This is what I wanted you to see,” she said, moving close enough to show him the glossy photos. 

The barest flicker of recognition flared to life in his eyes. It was a tiny spark, but it grew brighter the longer he looked. 

Jule’s heart beat faster beneath her woolen sweater. He knew! And he would tell her. And then she could identify the painting and present her findings to the museum. The open slot for curator of early Italian Renaissance art had her name all over it. 

With an audible exhale, Montgomery slipped the photo from her hand, brushing Jule with his fingers as he did so. The calluses on his fingers rasped against her softer skin, sending a trickle of warmth from her heart to her abdomen. 

One of Mama Casale’s infinitely silly, but astonishingly profound refrains boomed inside her head. “When you finally meet him, the one, you’ll know it because your insides will feel topsy-turvey,” she’d said. 

Jule’s insides felt neither topsy nor turvy, but intact, if not somewhat awakened, as if she’d been slumbering for too long. 

Montgomery walked into a shaft of overhead lighting. The light draped his head and shoulders, creating a play of shadow and illumination on his face. She noticed the five o’clock shadow for the first time, framing his strong, square chin and lips. 

While he examined the photos, she examined him and found herself falling into a memory, caught in a replay. 

He stood across the hall, an unrecognizable figure among a sea of family. A hooded cloak shadowed his face until he leaned on a column near the servants’ entrance. Overhead torchlight revealed the man, barely out of boyhood. Soft light bronzed the planes of his face, easing the pain and sorrow he so obviously carried. Why someone so young amidst a joyous masquerade ball should be so sad, she knew well. 

Because her heart bled, too. She was to be engaged to one she did not love. 

Tonight, they celebrated. 

“Ms. Casale.” 

Jule’s head snapped up. She glanced around the room, looking for the torchlight and the young man who looked impossibly like Rom Montgomery. 

What had she been doing? Dreaming? And why did she have this overriding feeling of crossing a forbidden line? Like being with Montgomery was going to get her into trouble. 

Because he was trouble. 

“Yes?” She responded, feigning attention. 

Montgomery had crossed to her side, the photos forgotten for the moment. Concern furrowed his brows. Warm. He was so damn warm. It would feel right falling into his arms. 

What the hell is wrong with me? 

“You okay?” 

“Sure. Just chilled from the rain.” What else could she say? Yeah, I just had this weird flashback to a memory I don’t own, but no worries, I’m not crazy. 

Except, maybe she was crazy. 

Refusing to lose her momentum in pursuit of answers, she said, “I take it you have seen the sword in the painting before?” 

He studied her silently for several seconds and Jule prayed he wouldn’t escort her out. The moment was awkward and she resisted the urge to squirm and shuffle her feet. The intensity of his perusal made her nervous—and dammit, kind of excited? 

She stared back at him, noticing his impossibly long lashes. Her gaze drifted down to his soft lips. She imagined they would be supple against hers, but his fierce attitude would create an urgency and dominance that could overwhelm her. 

Feeling like a teenager about to be rejected when emotionally overextended, Jule jerked her eyes back up to his. His steady gaze didn’t waver, but it seemed softer than it had been previously—almost caring. 

Her heart thudded in her chest as he spoke. 

“I know of the sword, yes. But it’s not a very exciting history.” He strode to an ebony cabinet and pulled two highballs from an interior shelf. “Can I get you a drink Ms. Casale?” He said it in an offhanded manner, as if he were only being polite. But nothing about the man was truly polite—in fact, he was all fierce authority. 

She didn’t want to come off as submissive, so she said, “Absolutely. How about I make it?” 

Jule joined Montgomery at the liquor cabinet and sorted through the bottles inside. That’s when she saw it. The dagger. Not just any dagger like those decorating the walls, but the one. 

Blood rushed from her head in a startling whoosh and Jule almost fainted. She definitely staggered as if she’d already consumed the alcohol. She knew that knife. Intimately. Knew the feel of it in her hand, its cold metal against her skin. She knew without looking the fineness of the polished mahogany hilt and the evenness of the grain. 

She knew the weight of it. 

And how it felt cutting into her flesh.

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Want to get to know me? Get to know a few of my favorite things:

I love Frito pie. And cowboy boots. Pickup trucks and summer nights. Willie Nelson and Shiner Bock. Essentially, all things Texas.

Ask me about BBQ or dance halls and we’ll be best friends.

Want to really get to know me?

Take me to Vegas and sit me down in front of a Blackjack table and I’ll marry you.

On a serious note:

I have a Masters degree in Information Science
Am certified to sell real estate in Texas
Have been a reporter and freelance writer for 12 years

And I love Hello Kitty.

Find Shannon and her books

Website / Goodreads / Twitter 

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Release Day Blitz: Five Weeks by Dannika Dark

Five Weeks

(Seven Series, Bk #3)

By Dannika Dark 

Blurb:

Izzy has always loved the freedom and adventure of life on the road, but she’s recently decided to settle down—as much as a rogue wolf can. When her boyfriend gets her a job working at a hot Shifter bar, she runs into the last person on earth she expected to see again.

Jericho isn't the famous rock star he once was, though he still plays in a local band and loves to party. Beautiful women come and go, but music is his only passion—until a sassy redhead named Isabelle Monroe shows up unexpectedly.

Fate reunites two former friends living with one foot in the present and the other in the past. But will they have a future when one of them is forced to choose between life and death? Old habits die hard, and sometimes the toughest addictions to shake are the ones that control our hearts.

Available for purchase at 

      

Excerpt

As the men dispersed, a warm feeling slid over my body when I looked up at Jericho. His eyes were hooded and low, but when he melted me with a possessive gaze, my feet cemented to the floor.

He moved toward me with the grace of a panther—slow and predatory. The external noise from the bar faded away, and all I heard were his silken words as he caressed the ends of my hair, looking at it between his fingers.

“You haven’t changed,” he said in quiet words.

“What do you mean by that?”

Jericho bent down and his mouth brushed against my ear. “Still sexy as sin and making me protect you.”

Goose bumps erupted over my arms. “No one said you had to protect me. I’m not the shy girl you once knew.” My heart raced. The inflection in my tone wasn't as harsh as I’d planned it to be, my words breathy and unsure.

His warm body pressed against mine and when I stepped back, I bumped into a wooden post that pinned me to him. Tingles raced through my body uncontrollably, and I lost the ability to think rationally when I smelled his cologne. Men never had this kind of effect on me. His power slid down my body like hands against my naked flesh.

Jericho had a smile that aroused, and combined with his voice, it became an aphrodisiac.

Or maybe it was the way his callused fingers lightly stroked the back of my neck, as if I were an instrument. As he played me, memories flooded my mind, and I shoved him away, panting and trembling.

Jericho worked his jaw in a frustrated manner, his brows slanting down with a look of disbelief. He shook his head and then backed up.

A brunette appeared out of nowhere in a revealing top that displayed her breasts like cookies in a bakery: warm, tempting, and something you’d regret later.

“How’s my sexy man?” she asked, tucking her fingers possessively in his jeans and nipping on his arm. “You want to go have some fun?”

His eyes stayed locked on mine as he circled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. She moaned playfully as he squeezed her hip, testing if I had my temper under control.

So I played his game.

“Can I get you a drink, honey?” I asked her. “Maybe some milk in a dish?”

Sometimes I could spot the cats. It was all in the purr and the way they slinked their bodies.

“No, thanks,” she replied. “I have something else in mind I want to put in my mouth.”

When she stroked his crotch, I blinked in surprise. Not just because she had the audacity to do that in front of me, but the fact that Jericho tilted his head and gave me a “so what?” look.

So what?

Maybe he was right. All that connected us were five amazing years, and that was a lifetime ago. Seeing him made me raw again. Those feelings caught up with me like a shadow that had never let go. Part of me wanted to squeeze him tight and tell him how much I’d missed him—because I had. Jericho had shown me the private side of himself he never gave to others, and I’d done the same for him. Another part of me wanted to hate him for the anguish he’d put me through. And yet, I couldn't help but feel elated knowing that despite his insolence, Jericho wasn't lying in a grave as I’d imagined. He’d somehow assembled his life into something meaningful and gotten a grip on his demons.

Meanwhile, my demons were currently on the rampage and waving pitchforks.

So I said cutting words that hurt because I meant them, and yet I didn't.

“I wish I’d never met you.”

About the Author

This is the segment where you learn a little more about who I am, so here's what I can tell you:  I drink copious amounts of vitamin water placed precariously close to my laptop while writing. These are two healthy habits I have no intention of breaking. I'm a transplant living in the south, but I was born in the 70's to a military dad who moved us around the world.

When I'm not writing (which is all the time), I'm hunting down Indie music, watching movies, reading, eating Tex-Mex, discovering new ways to humiliate myself bowling, and burning up my laptop battery on the Internet. I have a relaxed, easy-going personality and don't like drama. I live with a cat who thinks she is a dog, or a goat (she eats plastic, so I'm not sure which).

Throughout my life, I've had insomnia. Counting sheep never worked and eventually I would imagine those sheep were the sole source of food after an apocalyptic battle where only thousands survived. I made up stories in a futile attempt to bore myself to sleep. The problem was, I got so wrapped up in my "head stories" that I would continue them through the following nights, changing it up each time to make it more exciting. Eventually, I started writing my ideas down - creating short stories, and then I discovered my love for poetry.

It's almost embarrassing how many spiral notebooks and stacks of paper I have of poetry and lyrics.

Another passion: digital art. I design all my book covers, marketing, and series art. I'm a very visual person and pursued photography as an avid hobby for many years.

I am not a YA author (I feel like I have to state this only because I've had a few people ask), but I think it's wonderful there are so many books available to teens in Urban Fantasy and Paranormal.

I am finally doing what I have always wanted to do: giving my characters a pulse through writing full time. I focus on adult urban fantasy romance, but I don't like labels and I enjoy blending genres to break out of the confines of predictability.

But it's what I love to do.

Danni

You can stalk, I mean find Dannika here: 

            

Presented by 

New Releases: 7/27-8/2

Mon July 28th

 Forbidden Kiss by Shannon Leigh

 So I Married a Werewolf (Seattle Wolf Pack #3) by Kristin Miller

Tue July 29th

 Between by Megan Whitmer

 The Buried Life (Buried Life #1) by Carrie Patel

 Free Agent (Grimm Agency #1) by J.C. Nelson

 Path of Smoke (Parallel Parks #2) by Bailey Cunningham

 Shifter's Claim (The Shadow Shifters #4) by A.C. Arthur

 The Young World (The Young World Trilogy #1) by Chris Weitz

 

Happy Reading!

Interview & Giveaway: Black Moon by Becca C. Smith & F.M. Sherrill

UFI welcomes Becca C. Smith and F.M. Sherrill Authors of Black Moon. Thanks for Joining us!!

What can you tell my readers about yourself that they might not know from looking on your bio or reading in another interview?
 
Becca: I go to Comic-Con every year for the last ten years. I love it. I love the energy. I love that all my fellow nerds go to one place and unite in our geekdom.
 
Faith: I love science and math. If my mind isn’t stimulated I’m insatiably bored. I like to challenge myself with new tasks to keep my wits sharp.
 
What do you enjoy doing on your down time?
 
Becca: I read, I write, I watch enormous amounts of television and I play warcraft.
 
Faith: I’m learning the piano, but typically I like to spend time gardening, dancing, singing and enjoying life.

What is your Favorite part of writing?
 
Becca: Creating worlds and experiencing new adventures through my characters.

Faith: The explosion. The birth of a new life as filtered through my grid of experiences. For me it’s like a kettle. If I don’t let a little steam off through creation my over-active mind can’t slow down.
 
Do you have any certain routines you must follow as you write?
 
Not really, but we do like to get up early and work for at least an hour before the “routine” of the day stops us from being productive.
 
What are some of your Favorite books or Authors in the Urban Fantasy/ Paranormal Genres?
 
Richelle Mead, Kami Garci, Margaret Stohl.
 
How would you pitch Black Moon to someone who has not heard of it before?
 
It has fangs, blood, romance, history and all the romping bad-ass characters you could want in a paranormal romance.
 
Can you tell us a little bit about the world that Black Moon is set in? 
 
It takes place in the here and now, but we get to see it through two perspectives. Shea is a character who has no idea that vampires exist, she lives in “our” world. Lucian is a 3,000 year old vampire who has turned cold and cynical over the years, but meeting Shea starts to thaw him out a bit.
 
Do you have a favorite scene in Black Moon?
 
We’d love to tell you, but… Spoilers.

Which character was your favorite to write about? What about the hardest to write about?
 
The biggest challenge for both of us was trying to capture the other character’s voice within our own chapters. Since Becca wrote Shea’s chapters and Faith wrote Lucian’s chapters, and our writing styles are so different, sometimes it was hard to write dialogue for the characters.

What Other Projects can we look forward to reading from you?
 
Faith and I are currently editing our next releases of our own. Faith’s is called Cry Wolf and it’s a werewolf apocalypse novel. It will be published in September. Becca just finished the second book in her Atlas Series called Atlas: Grigori Returned and it will be released in August. We’re also working on Black Sunrise and hoping to have it out before the end of the year!

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Becca C. Smith: 
 
Becca C. Smith received her Film degree from Full Sail University and has worked in the Film and Television industry for most of her adult life. In 2010 Becca published her first novel, Riser followed by the sequel, Reaper, in 2011, and the finale, Ripper in 2013. In 2012 Becca wrote the children’s novel Alexis Tappendorf and the Search for Beale’s Treasure. She is also the co-author of the teen graphic novel Ghost Whisperer: The Haunted. Most recently Becca released Atlas, the first book in a new urban fantasy series. She currently lives in Los Angeles, CA with her husband, Stephan and their two cats Jack and Duke.

F.M. Sherrill: 
 
Aren't author's bios boring? I always wanted to read one that went something like this:
F.M. Sherrill: recent citizen of earth. Plans on ruling the planet once she gets over the common cold. Or, F.M. Sherrill: time traveler. Decided to alter the space-time continuum by writing a novel, thus changing history slightly, which will eventually lead to the rise of a new human species.

But here it is. F.M. Sherrill is a novelist, A.K.A. an avid bullshitter; that's why she lives in L.A.. She's been writing for as long as her ancient mind can remember, devouring tales like an anemic vampire roaming the streets in hot pink heels, always thirsty for more. When she's not writing, she's making steampunk weapons, sewing giant plant-eater Mario plushes, making costumes for some film bloke or cosplayer, and sculpting/casting movie prop replicas while gardening in her urban apartment. Her favorite tools? A soldering iron, a blowtorch, a band saw, a sonic screwdriver, a replicator and an active imagination.

Blog: http://girlswritingcoffee.blogspot.com
Twitter: @therisersaga and @fmsherrill

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Black Moon
Black Moon Saga #1
Available on Amazon

 Shea Harper is forced to stay in boring, hot and dry Phoenix, Arizona for college. But once she meets the enigmatic yet positively egocentric Lucian, Shea’s life changes forever.

She finds out that she comes from a long line of descendants called Vessels. In her soul is the key to destroying an ancient prison protecting the world from darkness itself: Lucian’s father.

Up until now, Lucian has captured every descendant except Shea. With her powers awakening, all vampires want to drag her down to the pit. But Lucian is territorial. She’s the first female Vessel… and he’s convinced she belongs to him.

Saucy and tauntingly surprising, Black Moon captures the struggle between burning desire or denying the heart. This is a love story that will drain you dry.

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Tour Wide

5 copies of Black Moon

10th Doctor Plush

Castiel (Supernatural) Plush

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Week in Review: 7/20-7/26

Books I've Bought/received

- Chained by Night by Larissa Ione- ARC- Publisher

- Taste of Darkness by Katie Reus- eARC- NetGalley

- High Moon by Jennifer Harlow- eARC- Author

Books I've Read

Dead Spots by Melissa F. Olson
Veiled Target by Robin Bielman
Cursed Moon by Jaye Wells
The Immortal Crown by Richelle Mead

Reviews Posted

Wicked Magic by Madeline Pryce
Witchlight by Sonya Clark
Dark Secrets by Madeline Pryce

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* New Releases for the week. Was there anything you were looking forward to reading?

* Wednesday- Interview & Giveaway for The Strange Maid by Tessa Gratton 

* Thursday- Interview for A Touch of Death: Death Witch by Ella Grey

* Friday- Guest blog for Birthright by Ryan Attard

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