Monday, April 10, 2017

Interview + Giveaway: The Unlikeable Demon Hunter by Deborah Wilde


UFI welcomes Author Deborah Wilde. 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 a lifelong lover of musicals and am currently obsessed with all things Hamilton.

What do you enjoy doing on your down time?
Reading, watching way too much TV, and tap dancing.

What is your Favorite part of writing?
When my characters take over and start running the show.

Do you have any certain routines you must follow as you write?
I have phases. Before I start outlining, I manically scribble ideas and half-formed thoughts on pieces of paper and on my phone. Once I start outlining, I tend to start desperately looking for any kind of procrastination that I can justify as “research.” But once I start writing, I’ll get snarly when I’m disturbed, resenting my family for daring to want food and clean clothes.

What are some of your Favorite books or Authors in the Urban Fantasy/ Paranormal Genres?
The Fever series, Kate Daniels, The Others, Mercy Thompson, October Daye.

How would you pitch The Unlikeable Demon Hunter to someone who has not heard of it before?
The age-old story of what happens when a foul-mouthed, romance impaired heroine with no edit button and a predilection for hot sex is faced with her worst nightmare–a purpose. It’s Bridesmaids meets Buffy with a dash of the seven deadly sins.

Can you tell us a little bit about the world that The Unlikeable Demon Hunter is set in?
The Brotherhood of David is a secret, all-male, demon hunting society. Identified as one of the chosen at birth, Ari Katz has been trained his entire life for the day that he’ll be formally inducted into the society and receive his magic powers. Except when that day comes it turns out that oops! They’ve been training the wrong twin the entire time and that his sister Nava is actually the chosen. Thematically, I’m exploring gender politics, what makes a female character “likeable” and the double standards that I find even fictional women are held to. Then there’s a lot of snark and sexytimes.

Do you have a favorite scene in The Unlikeable Demon Hunter?
I can’t say that I have just one. I do really love the entire opening sequence and how it blows this idea of “chosen one” open.

Which one character out of all your books was your favorite to write about? What about the hardest to write about?
Nava has been my favorite and I think Rohan has been the toughest. Yes, he’s an alpha male but I’ve worked really hard to make sure he’s not simply a series of tropes or an asshole.

What Other Projects can we look forward to reading from you?
It’s all about the next books in this series with the first three coming out this year, though I have my sixth YA romantic comedy (which I write under the name Tellulah Darling) coming out later this year. Think Romancing the Stone meets Romeo and Juliet but with 100% less body count.


Thank you so much for having me!
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A global wanderer, hopeless romantic, and total cynic with a broken edit button, Deborah writes adult urban fantasy to satisfy her love of smexy romances and tales of chicks who kick ass. She is all about the happily-ever-after, with a huge dose of hilarity along the way. “It takes a bad girl to fight evil. Go Wilde.”

Find Deborah and her books
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The Unlikeable Demon Hunter
Nava Katz #1
Amazon


Bridesmaids meets Buffy with a dash of the seven deadly sins.

The age-old story of what happens when a foul-mouthed, romance impaired heroine with no edit button and a predilection for hot sex is faced with her worst nightmare–a purpose

Ari Katz is intelligent, driven, and will make an excellent demon hunter once initiated into the Brotherhood of David. However, this book is about his twin Nava: a smart-ass, self-cultivated hot mess, who is thrilled her brother is stuck with all the chosen one crap.

When Nava half-drunkenly interrupts Ari’s induction ceremony, she expects to be chastised. What she doesn’t expect is to take her brother’s place among the–until now–all-male demon hunters. Even worse? Her infuriating leader is former rock star Rohan Mitra.

Too bad Rohan’s exactly what Nava’s always wanted: the perfect bad boy fling with no strings attached, because he may also be the one to bring down her carefully erected emotional shields. That’s as dangerous as all the evil fiends vying for the bragging rights of killing the only female ever chosen for Demon Club.

Odds of survival: eh.

Odds of having a very good time with Rohan before she bites it: much better.
Excerpt:

Mornings after sucked.
Walks of shame were a necessary evil, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed shimmying back into the same trollop togs twice. I picked glitter out of my hair, then straightened my sequined top. I was officially decommissioning it. Multiple washings never quite managed to remove the lingering aura of bad decisions I made while wearing party clothes. My philosophy? Cross my fingers and hope for the most bang for the bucks spent later on new outfits.
The surly cabbie evil-eyed me to hurry up.
I complied, rooting around in my clutch for some crumpled bills before handing them over and stumbling out of the taxi onto the sidewalk.
Fresh air was a godsend after the stale bitter coffee smell I’d been trapped with during the ride. I pressed a finger to my temple, a persistent dull throb stabbing me behind my eyeballs. My residual feel good haze clashed big-time with the glaring sun screaming at me to wake up, and the buzz of a neighbor’s lawnmower cutting through the Sunday morning quiet didn’t help matters. Best get inside.
Smoothing out my mini skirt, I readied myself for my tame-my-happy-slut-self-to-boring-PG-rating body check when a wave of dizziness crashed through me. Whoa. I brought my gaze back to horizon level, swallowing hard. That sea-sickness technique was doing dick-all so I rummaged in my bag for my ginger chews.
No puking in the bushes, I chided myself, letting the spicy smooth and sweet candy fight my nausea. My mother would toss my bubble ass out if I defiled her precious rhodos.
Again.
The rise and fall of my chest as I took a few deep breaths spotlit a slight problem. My spangly blouse was missing two buttons. And I was missing a bra. Hook-up Dude had been worth the loss of a pair of socks, maybe a bargain bin thong. But the latest in purple push-up technology? No. I allowed myself a second to mourn. It had been a good and loyal bra.
The sex, on the other hand? Total crap. The girls, who were normally perky C cups, seemed a bit subdued. I couldn’t blame them. What’s-his-name had started out with all the promise of a wild stallion gallop, but he’d ended up more of a gentle trot. I didn’t know if the fault lay with the jockey or the ride, but it had been a long time since I’d seen a finish line.
Since I couldn’t keep examining my tits on the front walk with Mrs. Jepson side-eyeing me from behind her living room curtains, I thrust my chin up and clacked a staccato rhythm toward my front door on those mini torture chambers that had seemed such a good idea yesterday.
Every step made our precisely manicured lawn undulate. I clamped my lips shut, willing the ginger chews to kick in while fumbling my key into the lock. Dad had screwed up the measurements on our striking cedar and stained glass front door and, being a touch too big for the frame, it needed to be shouldered open.
I crashed into the door like a linebacker. Once I’d extricated myself and my keys from the lock, I brushed myself off, and stepped inside. Our house itself was comfortably upper middle class but not huge, since my parents preferred to spend money on trips and books instead of the overpriced real estate found in here in Vancouver. A quick glance to my left showed that the TV room was empty. I crossed my fingers that Mom and Dad were out at their squash game, my main reason for picking this specific time to sneak back in.
Really, a twenty-year-old shouldn’t have had to sneak. But then again, a twenty-year-old probably should have kept her last menial job for longer than two weeks, so I wasn’t in a position to argue rights.
I kicked off my shoes, sighing in delight at the feel of cool tile under my bare feet as I padded through the house to our homey kitchen. No one was in there either. Someone, probably Mom, had tacked the envelope with my final–and only–pay stub from the call center that I’d left lying around onto our small “miscellaneous” cork board. The gleaming quartz counters were now free of their usual clutter of papers, books, and latest gourmet food find. That meant company. Come to think of it, I did hear someone in the living room.
A study in tasteful shades of white, the large formal room was off-limits unless we had special guests. Mom had set that rule when my twin brother Ari and I were little tornados running around the place and while there was no longer a baby gate baring our way, conditioning and several memorable scoldings kept us out.
Hmmm. Could Ari be entertaining an actual human boy? Le gasp.
I beelined for the back of the house, past the row of identically framed family photos hanging in a neat grid, my head cocked. Listening for more voices, but all was quiet. Maybe I’d been wrong? I hoped not. Both finding my brother with a crush–blackmail dirt–and helping myself to the liquor cabinet were positive prospects. What better way to lose that hangover headache than get drunk again? Oh, the joys of being Canadian with socialized health care and legal drinking age of nineteen. After a year (officially) honing that skill, I imbibed at an Olympic level.
The red wine on the modular coffee table gleamed in a shaft of sunlight like its position had been ordained by the gods. I snatched up the crystal decanter, sloshing the liquid into the glass conveniently placed next to it. Once in a while, a girl could actually catch a break.
I fanned myself with one hand. The myriad of lit candles seemed a bit much for Ari’s romantic encounter, but wine drinking trumped curiosity so I chugged the booze back. My entire body cheered as the cloyingly-sweet alcohol hit my system, though I hoped it wasn’t Manischewitz because hangovers on that were a bitch. I’d slugged back half the contents when I saw my mom on the far side of the room clutch her throat, eyes wide with horror. Not her usual, “you need an intervention” horror. No, her expression indicated I’d reached a whole new level of fuck-up.
“Nava Liron Katz,” she gasped in full name outrage.
My cheeks still bulging with wine, I properly scoped out the room. Mom? Check. Dad? Check. Ari? Check? Rabbi Abrams, here to perform the ceremony to induct my brother as the latest member in the Brotherhood of David, the chosen demon hunters?
Check.
I spit the wine back into what I now realized was a silver chalice and handed it to the elderly bearded rabbi. “Carry on,” I told him. Then I threw up on his shoes.

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Sunday, April 9, 2017

Week in Review: 4/2-4/8



Books Received for Review

Demon Cursed by Karilyn Bentley
The Broken Ones by Danielle L. Jensen
Ashes Reborn by Keri Arthur

Books I've Read

True North by L.E. Sterling
Shades of Honor by Sandy Williams
Destroyer by Shannon Mayer
Avenged by Amy Tintera
Demon Cursed by Karilyn Bentley

Reviews Posted
Lynchpin by Shannon Mayer
Shattered Pack by Aileen Erin

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

* Monday- Interview + Giveaway Wanted and Wired by Vivien Jackson

* Wednesday- Interview for If You Were My Vampire by L.J.K. Oliva

* Thursday- Promo + Giveaway for The Castaways by Jessika Fleck

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* Did you know you can follow UFI on these other sites?

You can also add me (as in Stacy) to your friends on these sites if you're on them.
 

 * I love comments so if you see something you like (or not) please comment away and let me know.

Friday, April 7, 2017

Review: Shattered Pack by Aileen Erin

Shattered Pack
Author: Aileen Erin
Release Date: March 28, 2017
Publisher: Ink Monster
Alpha Girl Book #6
ASIN:  B0167DZKVM
Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
Review Copy Source: Publisher via NetGalley

Meredith Molloney never thought she’d find a mate, let alone someone like Donovan Murry—one of the most powerful Alphas alive. Now that she’s no longer cursed and the evil Luciana Alvarez has been taken care of, she thinks life will finally settle down. Boy, has she never been so wrong.

In the middle of the night, Donovan gets a call telling him that his pack has gone to pieces. The news that his second in command has been found brutally murdered has Donovan packing his bags for Ireland, but the last thing Meredith wants to do is leave Texas. She’s heard about how the Celtic Pack are with outsiders. And Donovan has more than a few exes in the pack that will be less than friendly.

Meredith’s never let a few angry wolves stop her, and she’s not about to start now. She’s faced down much worse the past few months. But when she gets there, she finds that it’s not just a few exes who stand in the way between her and her Full Moon Ceremony with Donovan.

Meredith is thrust in to a deadly game of pack politics, one the fey have happily joined in on. When the dust settles, she knows she’ll either have everything that she wants or lose it all.

I always get worried when a series that follows one lead switches to another. I get worried that I won't connect with the character or the storyline since I already love the other,  but once again Aileen Erin pulled it off.

I've always liked Meredith. She has a spunky personality and she has had to fight through her own difficulties in past Alpha Girl books. SHATTERED PACK dives right into her life, shows us a bit about her family and proves to us that she is just as Alpha as her mate Donovan. In fact, at some points she was more!

Just because SHATTERED PACK features Meredith doesn't mean we don't get to see some of our other favorite Alpha Girl characters. We see Cosette more than the others. She plays a small role, but we get a better understanding of why she has to stay out of pack politics and we learn more about her  role in the Fae hierarchy.

I enjoyed getting to know Donovan and Meredith better as a couple. There weren't a lot of romantic scenes, but they worked as a team when needed and fought together against their foes. I didn't want to put SHATTERED PACK down and I would be more than happy to continue reading more with Meredith as the lead female character.

I gave it 5/5 stars

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

Thursday, April 6, 2017

Promo + Giveaway: The Castaways by Jessika Fleck



The Castaways
Jessika Fleck 
April 3, 2017  
YA Contemporary Fantasy
Amazon  BN  iBooks  Kobo
The Castaway Carnival: fun, mysterious, dangerous.

Renowned for its infamous corn maze…and the kids who go missing in it.

When Olive runs into the maze, she wakes up on an isolated and undetectable island where a decades-long war between two factions of rival teens is in full swing.

Trapped, Olive must slowly attempt to win each of her new comrades’ hearts as Will—their mysterious, stoically quiet, and handsome leader—steals hers.

Olive is only sure about one thing: her troop consists of the good guys, and she’ll do whatever it takes to help them win the war and get back home.

Excerpt:


But everything’s clear. I do know where to go. “I’m going to find that boulder—” I suck in shallow breath. “The…hhh…maze.”
“It’s no use. We’ve tried everything. It doesn’t work! Wait!”
But I’m not listening because it has to work. It’s the only way. If it got me in, it’ll get me back out.
I run until my body, my mind, and, mostly, my lungs give up. Because, problem is, Will’s right. I don’t know how to find it.
I stop.
Will stops.
Bent at the waist, hands on my knees, I cough and spew, trying to catch my breath. The hyperventilation has passed, but my insistence on sprinting like I’m a track star when my
lungs and legs have no business running, has taken its toll.
I look up.
Will isn’t fazed. At some point he took off his shirt and now stands with his hands on his hips, chest rising and falling, barely winded. His abs flex with each effortless breath. “Get
it out of your system?”
It’s when my stomach springs that I realize I’m staring at his body. I quickly glance away and completely ignore his question. “Take me there.”
“I told you. It’s no use.”
“Please,” I whimper. Tears race down my face.
Tucking his T-shirt into the back of his pants, Will walks in another direction.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m taking you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
With Will now leading the way, I watch his suntanned back, the sweat beading at his shoulders and slowly, one by one, how the beads roll down the center crease. I’m in a daze
or a haze or a trance because all I see is his back, his muscles contracting and tightening with each step, and, like magic, we’re there.
The mossy boulder stands before us and, I swear, it mocks me in all its ordinary, commonplace glory.

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Jessika Fleck is an author, unapologetic coffee drinker, and knitter — she sincerely hopes to one day discover a way to do all three at once. Until then, she continues collecting vintage typewriters and hourglasses, dreaming of an Ireland getaway, and convincing her husband they NEED more kittens. Her work verges on fantastical and dark with a touch of realism. She is a regular contributor to the fantastic kidlit blog, Kidliterati, and is represented by Victoria Marini of the Irene Goodman Literary Agency. 


Find Jessika and her books
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  Follow the rest of the tour here: 
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Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Interview: If You Were My Vampire by L.J.K. Oliva


UFI welcomes Author L.J.K. Oliva. 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 am a total geek/nerd (and no, I'm not using those words interchangeably!). I love history, geology, earth science, and astronomy. I also love Star Wars, Supernatural, The Princess Bride, and Lord of the Rings. Not necessarily in that order.

What do you enjoy doing on your down time?
I'm mom to a 5-year-old, so this "down time" you speak of is something I only vaguely remember, haha. When I'm not writing, however, I love cooking, gardening, hiking, or going on long drives through the mountains (the fact that I'm scouting body-dumping locations for my books has NO BEARING here).

What is your Favorite part of writing?
The part where my characters finally stop poking me when I'm trying to sleep. That usually means I'm finally getting their story right.

Do you have any certain routines you must follow as you write?
Beyond the Butt-In-Chair-Fingers-On-Keyboard Rule, not really, no. I don't subscribe to some of the more-superstitious things some writers "need" to do in order to be creative. I've found that I tend to get caught up in the cuteness of them, and I don't actually get much done.

I love writing, I love stories, but this is my job. I show up, clock in, and I go to work.

What are some of your Favorite books or Authors in the Urban Fantasy/ Paranormal Genres?

Karen Marie Moning (Fever series), Stacia Kane (Downside Ghosts), Sarah Blair (Tides of Darkness series), Jacqueline Rhoads (The Wolvers Series), Daniel Jose Older, Madhuri Pavamani (The Keeper Series), Kayti Nika Raet (The Outsider Chronicles).

Some of these people are my gods. Some are my friends. All are f*cking awesome authors whose books you need in your life!

How would you pitch the Shades Below series to someone who has not heard of it before?
The Ghostbusters team up with Sam and Dean Winchester, then they all move to San Francisco and hunt monsters and fall in love.

Can you tell us a little bit about the world that If You Were My Vampire is set in?
Basically, it's our world- as in, the parts of our world that mundane people don't realize exist. I love hearing from readers who say they feel like the Shades Below universe and the stories in it could be real, because that's the whole point! I want people to be walking down the street after reading one of my books, see something out of the corner of their eye, and wonder.

Just...wonder.

Do you have a favorite scene in If You Were My Vampire?
Ooo, that's tough. Not to sound self-serving, but I pretty much like the whole book, haha! That being said, some of the scenes I most enjoyed writing were the scenes that involved Seneca Lynch, my soldier vampire, and Tonio Ramirez, my gay Texas transplant. I really like how their characters turned out, and seeing them play off of (and with ;-)) each other was really fun.

Which one character out of all your books was your favorite to write about? What about the hardest to write about?
Another tough question! So far, Jesper MacMillian of the main Shades Below books is my favorite. He's been through a lot, and could have chosen to be bitter. I think he was still on the fence about that at the beginning of A World Apart (Shades Below, #1), but meeting Lena Alan and learning about the paranormal forced him to reexamine the world and where he fits in it. For MacMillian, that's going to be a very, very good thing.

The hardest has been Darius deCompostela, hero of Season Of The Witch (Shades Below, #1.5). This wasn't due to anything about his character, per se, more about the racial politics I felt as a white woman writing a black hero. I believe white authors can and should engage characters of color in our work, however, I believe even more strongly that we need to be very mindful how we do that. I really wanted to get Darius right. I didn't want to tread on any toes, engage in cultural or racial appropriation, and I definitely didn't want to start telling stories that weren't mine to tell.

In the end, I realized that if I approached Darius as a "black hero", I was going to get myself in trouble. Instead, I came from the angle that he was a hero who happened to be black; that he was *gasp* a person first and foremost. I'm a writer. I can make people. Darius and Georgia took it from there.

What Other Projects can we look forward to reading from you?
I'll be continuing my Shades Below series for the near and not-so-near future. The next book returns to Lena and MacMillian, and follows the repercussions of what happened to the heroine of this story. Lena will be forced to deal with her grief and her feelings of failure, and MacMillian will be forced to consider just how far he'll go for the woman he's coming to love.
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L.J.K Oliva writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance, with a heavy dash of suspense. She likes her whiskey strong, her chocolate dark, and her steak bloody. L.J.K. likes monsters… and knows the darkest ones don’t live in closets.




Find L.J.K. and her books
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If You Were My Vampire
Shades Below #2.5
Goodreads     Pinterest Board

Sometimes, your life begins the day you die…

Asher Evans is a man haunted by history. Turned vampire in the concentration camp that claimed his family, he has never recovered from the loss of his humanity. Removed from the mundane world and resigned to facing eternity alone, he’s completely unprepared when the unthinkable happens: he meets a girl.

As the youngest daughter of San Francisco’s most prestigious psychic family, Grace Alan has always known about the things that go bump in the night. She especially knows about monsters…including the fact that she is one. Grace has spent her entire life trying to be normal, and finally, things seem to be looking up. There’s only one problem.

She’s just been murdered.

When Asher stumbles upon a dying Grace, he knows he should leave her to her fate. But in a world that looks at him and sees only a monster, Grace reminds him what it feels like to be human. He can’t bring himself to let her die.

Unfortunately, rescuing her has consequences. Female vampires have been illegal for centuries. In saving Grace, Asher may have condemned them both.

Can be read as a standalone


Listen to the Playlist at YouTube and Spotify

Excerpt #2:


Traffic was scant on The Embarcadero.  Even going at a light pace, it didn't take long to reach Fisherman's Wharf.  A stiff wind was blowing in off the Bay, and the crowds of tourists had long since departed in favor of warmer retreats.  Seagulls feasted on the scraps of sourdough bread bowls sticky with clam chowder left in their wake.
A lone street musician remained on the empty sidewalk.  He was seated on a small, rusty stool, a battered guitar perched on his knees.  He sang in a haunting tenor, his voice crisp and clear in the stillness.  The words of the song echoed off the surrounding buildings.
Someone to watch over me...
Asher stopped.  "This song was written the year I was born."
Grace didn't answer.  Asher was about to look down when her hand slipped into his.
Perhaps it was the cold.  Perhaps he was still high from the streetcar ride or the race down Market Street.  Either way, he clearly wasn't in his right mind, because instead of pushing her away, he spun her around so she was squarely in his arms.
Her eyes widened.  "What...?"
"Dance with me."  He couldn't believe himself.  Asher took a deep breath.  "I mean, unless you don't—"
Grace coiled her fingers through his, lifted her other hand and rested it on his shoulder.  She met his eyes.  Asher wasn't sure what she saw there.  A blush stole across her cheeks, but she didn't look away.  "You'll have to show me how."
Asher released the breath.  He hadn't been aware he was holding it.  Gently, he reached up and adjusted her hand on his shoulder.  Then he set his hand to her waist.  "It's easy.  Just move with me."
He heard her breath stutter, and her hand trembled a little in his.  For some inexplicable reason, that pleased him.   He firmed his other hand against her back, and started to move.  It was nothing complicated, just a simple two-step he'd seen his parents do.  Asher closed his eyes.  For a moment, he could almost remember a time when things had been normal.  A time when he'd been happy.
A time when he'd been human.
He jerked his eyes open again.  His throat ached.  He swallowed ruthlessly, tried to lock down the place inside him that felt poised to crack wide open.  He started to pull back.
Grace's fingers tightened around his, and she rested her cheek against his chest.  Her hand slid from his shoulder and curled around the back of his neck.
Asher wasn't sure he remembered how to breathe.  "Grace," he whispered.  The emptiness inside him expanded.  "I can't..."
"It's easy."  He felt her voice in every fiber of his being.  "Just move with me."
Asher stared down at her.  The emptiness receded a little.  The vise around his chest loosened.  He closed his eyes again and let Grace hold him, let the scent of patchouli leak into his senses and anchor him firmly in the present moment.

They danced until the song ended, and the street musician finally packed away his guitar.

  
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Tuesday, April 4, 2017