Forgetting Fallenwood
by Leslie D. Soule

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:
What happens when Ash accidentally makes her way through another portal, this time into the Other Realm, and forgets she ever went to Fallenwood? More importantly, how much of one's identity is made up of memories? Fallenwood 2 is the continuing journey of heroine Ash Kensington. Struggling with a deep sense of grief, sorrow, and overall confusion, Ash tries to work her way through to a deeper, underlying meaning. This search leads her back to Fallenwood, where the mystery unravels itself as she realizes that a very sinister force may be underlying everything…


~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt :

Ashley woke in a cold sweat. She remembered nothing of her time spent in the magical realm known as Fallenwood. Without the remembrance of her journey in Fallenwood, Ashley awoke as her former self, without the benefit of the lessons learned during her journey. That journey never existed, and her memory bank filled itself with everything she’d known before she left. Ashley began living a normal life, as though Fallenwood didn’t exist at all. Now, visions slipped away into nothingness and she believed she’d only had a series of incredibly vivid dreams and nothing more.

Yet the heart keeps a remembrance of its own, and without Prince Edward, a cold loneliness sank to the core of Ashley’s heart. Her mind couldn’t define the source of her heartache, so she blindly sought its cure.

Meet Leslie Soule
Tell us about yourself:

Well, I’m a Sacramento-based author who’s never really considered herself a “city girl”. I much prefer the woods and areas like Crescent City, where my dad’s side of the family’s from. That’s one of the reasons why I like to write fantasy so much – the woods offer a setting that is traditionally fantasy-based. I love doing art – painting, drawing, ceramics, putting together assemblages, etc. I also love the martial arts and have trained in a few different styles. I’m an introvert, so I tend to keep to myself and my books and tea and cozy things and whatnot.


What was your first book?

The first book I wrote was a book called Fallenwood, that was released as an ebook. It’s the beginning of my Fallenwood Chronicles, and surprisingly enough, I originally conceived it as a stand-alone, with no sequels of any kind to follow, but as so often happens to writers, the characters sometimes take over and take the story to unexpected places. We writers have no choice but to try and follow as best we can, clutching our pens and notebooks.


Describe your first break.

I started writing when I was very young and continued on through my teens and young adulthood, submitting pieces to every venue I could get an address to, and to no avail. I’d even started keeping a notebook where I’d tape all of my many many rejection letters. Then one day, I got a letter from a small literary magazine called The Armchair Aesthete, saying they’d accepted a poem of mine called “The Second Dante”. I feel like that was really my first break, and made me feel like I could make it as an author and have my work accepted.

What is your favorite genre to read? To write?

My favorite genre to read is fantasy, but followed closely by steampunk. I love that steampunk combines two favorites of mine – Victorian literature and science fiction. It’s like peanut butter and jelly – how did we ever live without steampunk?

As for writing, I’ve always had a love for fantasy and the hope that it represents – that there is magic and salvation in the “greenwood”.


What makes a protagonist interesting?

I think what makes a protagonist interesting is seeing how they grow as a character, and how their struggles change them. Also, Faulkner once famously wrote that “the only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself” and I definitely agree. It’s interesting to see a protagonist at those agonizing moments when they are conflicted and have to make a choice.


What is the best thing about being a writer?

I feel like the best thing about being a writer is the sense of freedom you achieve with it – that you can say anything you want to, even if it’s politically incorrect or it’s not something that’s typically discussed. Freedom of expression is what being a writer is all about. I feel like writers have always challenged the social norms, and that’s a good thing.


What is the worst thing?

The worst thing is that writing can be very difficult, and taxing, emotionally and mentally – and once you’ve put a lot of effort into something, it may not even be well-received by your audience.


Pantser or plotter?

I try to plot as much as possible, generally, and at least to have the ending worked out before I really get into a story.

What do you see the direction of your future writing taking? What can we expect next? Give us a little taste.

Well, the original Fallenwood is going to be re-released at some point, and I’m working with a critiquing partner on book three of the quadrilogy. Book 3 is called Betrayer. I also have a sci-fi novel I’m working on editing, about human-animal hybrids, called Hybrid Space.

Just for fun

Cat or dog person?

You know, I have this crazy, adorable dog named Ginger, but I’ve always thought of myself as more of a cat person. Ginger hates cats though, so I can’t have those. L

Favorite food?

Sushi! I LOVE LOVE LOVE sushi!!!

Favorite book?

The Two Towers, by J.R.R. Tolkien

Favorite movie?

The Last Dragon – it’s a martial arts classic.

Favorite vacation destination (you just have to want to go there)

I’d love to go to Ireland – home of my ancestors.

FORGETTING FALLENWOOD MINI REVIEW 5/5


Forgetting Fallenwood blew me away in several ways. Let me first explain that I am a book reviewer on purpose, as job as opposed to a random review here and there. By this time, I’ve read almost 6,000 books over the span of thirty years.

I enjoyed the quiet elegance and interwoven construction of the plot. The concept of forgetting who you once were was intriguing. It hints at alternative universes and reincarnation. What if you were once magical? Not Disney Princess magic, but misty morning Fae magic? There would have to be a powerful reason why you’d forget.

Reading Forgetting Fallenwood was such an unadulterated pleasure. The contrast between her old life and new life was striking. The creation of suspense, doubt, and anticipation created a heady combination that kept me turning pages. I appreciate a writer who considers the placement of each word, the construction of each setting, and the hidden motives of each character. Bravo, Ms. Soule, you have achieved much with Forgetting Fallenwood. I can’t wait to read the entire series.

CIRCLE OF DISHONOR
by Carla Swafford

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BLURB:

John “Ice” Takahashi’s final job for The Circle has an unexpected hitch in it; he’s fallen for an innocent civilian and his enemies know it. With his mission in a shambles, he’ll do anything to protect her, including kill. So how can a man without honor prove he’s worthy of her love?

Lena Matthews feels like she’s playing with fire by dating the mysterious Master J. He’s exotic, dangerous, and exactly what she needs in her boring life. With the bad guys bearing down on them, she discovers a whole new world of sensuality that binds her heart to his forever.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Excerpt 

John Takahashi, also called Ice in the more deadly corners of the world, watched from the shadows as the woman slid into her Nissan Altima. He wanted to be certain she safely reached her car. 

His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

A burly fellow strolled by Lena’s car and continued to the next lane without glancing her way. John’s hold eased up. If the man had attempted to attack her, bloody fat limbs would be scattered across the parking lot within seconds. He’d never allow anyone to harm her. Hell, if the man only spoke to her, John was unsure of his reaction. He’d never felt this way before. Possessiveness wasn’t his
usual response. He only knew she belonged to him.

From the first moment he saw her five weeks ago, intently watching him from the coffee shop, he’d decided to meet her. Her contradicting shyness and boldness amused him. The two times he’d allowed her to see him watching her, she’d looked away, blushing. He liked that. From the way she walked and held herself, he suspected she was a woman used to taking orders from a man. After being with so many women with that certain need, he had a sixth sense about such matters.

His contacts reported that her husband had died three years earlier. She wasn’t a flirt and hadn’t dated during that period. She dressed stylishly but modestly. Her hours were spent working in her house and in the flower beds surrounding her home. Occasionally, she had lunch with friends and attended charity functions, but nothing more.

Of course, their time in the coffee shop had been a test. If she’d been too timid or too bold, their time together would have ended without a dinner invitation. He wanted a woman willing to take commands but strong enough to demand what she needed in return.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Carla Swafford is a lithe twenty-nine year old with long auburn hair and sparkling dark eyes who loves dancing with her gypsy friends. Geez! Can you tell I love writing fiction? Now for the real stuff: I'm married to my high school sweetheart and live in Alabama. I swear my stories are more exciting.

 

www.carlaswafford.com

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iBooks - https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/carla-swafford/id461032072?mt=11

Last of the Red Hot Cowboys

by Tina Leonard

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BLURB:

A sexy cowgirl gives a rugged Texas loner the ride of his life in USA Today bestselling author Tina Leonard’s seductive new series.

Ava Buchanan dreams of a career on the rodeo circuit. Winning a spot on a one-of-a-kind team would be her ticket to the life she’s always wanted. Ava won’t let anyone stand in her way—not even a stubborn cowboy whose slow-molasses smile and red-hot swagger set her senses aflame . . . and whose talents as a trainer could make her a star. Rodeo might be a man’s game, but Ava knows the right woman’s touch can tame the wildest heart.

Trace Carter believes his mayor’s plan to raise the town’s profile has disaster written all over it, and he won’t allow the Hell’s Outlaws Training Center to be dragged into the fiasco. Yet watching Ava’s delectable body on horseback proves too much of a temptation, and his fantasies stray to her riding skills outside the arena. Soon Trace is fighting like hell to rein in his unbridled desire for the petite brunette before it becomes a passion hotter than the Texas sun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT 

“It doesn’t matter,” Trace said, glancing over at Ava.  “Don’t let the Horsemen guilt you.  They’re working an angle, and it’s always a crooked one.”

"That makes no sense.”  Ava gave him a look of disgust, which he intercepted with good humor.  He was just happy to have her in his truck.  Frankly, she’d come with him more easily than he’d thought she would.  Especially after he’d overheard Fallon ask her out.

That alone had caused Trace to shift his gears.  He hadn’t really planned on dragging Ava off.  The plan had been to talk rationally to her, help her put her horse in the barn.  Hell, he hadn’t had a plan.

Until he’d heard Fallon make his boneheaded offer—and split-second, Trace had known that just couldn’t stand.

“It makes sense to me.  You don’t want to hang out with them, Ava.  Trust me.”

“I don’t know if I trust you at all.  You seem shadier than they do.”
    
He shook his head.  “Just some friendly advice.  You don’t know the pitfalls of Hell.  Friends help each other out.”

“Do they?”

He felt her glare and grinned.  Such a sweet, sexy body, so much sass.  “Last I checked, yes.”

“You need to sell your idea to Judy.  Not me.”

“You let me handle Judy.”

“Fine.”  She waved her hand dismissively.

“You don’t really like me much, do you?”

Ava looked at him, her dark-green eyes gazing at him curiously.  “You’re arrogant and short-tempered.  You didn’t want to give us a shot in the first place, and this is the second time you’ve put me in your truck to twist my arm.  Did I miss what I’m supposed to like?”
     
“Now that you put it like that, I realize I haven’t given you much to be impressed with at all.  Let me fix this snag.”

“Go right ahead.”

He turned his truck toward his barns to put her horse away.  “If I train you, you’ll be a helluva rider.”

"I’m a helluva rider now.”

“Yeah, but when I get done with you, you’ll be a badass helluva rider.”

“Why?  Why are you suddenly so motivated?”

He laughed, parked the truck.  “Maybe I hate to see a nice girl getting taken advantage of by the Horsemen.”

“I’m not being taken advantage of.”
     
"I meant Judy.”  He grinned, enjoying himself.
    
“It doesn’t matter.  You’re not that kind of guy.”

“Unselfish?  Sure I am.”  He went around to open her door.

She slid out of the truck.  “Considerate.  You’re not considerate enough to try to help us out.  Your ego may be involved because you’re competitive.  But not considerate or unselfish.”

He grabbed her hand, turned her to face him.  She’d been sassing him with those pink lips for a few days now, and a man could only take so much.

He kissed her, long and slow and sweet, taking his time since she didn’t protest.  She felt better than he remembered, even in his wildest fantasies, which he’d had plenty of concerning her.  He was dying to move his hands to her waist, circle it, palm her sexy fanny.  Told himself it was too fast, and too fast never got a man anywhere.

Her lips moved under his, returning his kiss, surprising him.  Had she just moved a fraction closer?  She seemed to melt against him, surrendering, and Trace’s world spun at all the magical wonder suddenly opening to him.

Somewhere a truck door slammed.  Ava gasped, moved away from him.  Stared at him, blinking, then silently went to unload her horse.

He followed, helping her unlock the trailer.  She unloaded Mack, walking him to the barn.

“Go away,” she told Trace.

That was it?  He’d given her a kiss to melt the hardest heart, and she was telling him to drop dead?  “Hey,” he said, “don’t freak out.”

“Do I look freaked out?”  She walked her horse inside the barn, checked that Mack had fresh, cool water and plenty of fresh hay.  “This is the face of annoyed.”

That wasn’t a woman’s typical response to his kissing.  “I’m sorry.  I jumped the gun.”

“You jumped more than the gun, buster.”  She put her horse into a stall, checked the hay, filled the water, brushed past him.

He followed her as she sashayed toward her own beat-up blue truck she’d driven from Virginia.  “Ava.”

“What?”  She moved a mountain of paper and horse stuff from the front seat to the back."

“Can you forget that happened?”

“Easily.”  She got in her truck, switched the engine on, rolled down the window.  “I already have.”

He jumped back as she peeled away, shredding his gravel drive.  Trace grinned.

She might try to forget, but that kiss was going to last him a while.

It had to.  He wasn’t touching the lady again—she was going to have to make the next move.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:
USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author Tina Leonard has sold over 2.6 million copies of her titles. She has made the USA Today Bestseller, Waldenbooks, Bookscan, and Ingrambook lists, and has written and contracted seventy-one books and special projects. Her work has been published by Harlequin, Samhain Publishing, Robinson Scarlet, and most recently Random House Loveswept contracted for a single title trilogy project, Hell’s Outlaws. Leonard was chosen to be among the first authors published for Robinson’s Scarlet line, writing four single title novels for that imprint. Not long after, she sold on proposal to Harlequin American, where she has since written several popular series, most notably the Cowboys By The Dozen, Morgan Men, and Callahan Cowboys series. Her newest single title project, HOTTER THAN TEXAS, was published in March 2013. Leonard is known for her fun sense of humor, endearing communities, snappy dialogue, and memorable characters.

Join Tina at www.tinaleonard.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/tinaleonardbooks

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/Tina_Leonard

http://www.amazon.com/Last-Red-Hot-Cowboys-Loveswept-Contemporary-ebook/dp/B00HKXQTDM/ref=la_B001HD1ESQ_1_64?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1390140573&sr=1-64

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/last-of-the-red-hot-cowboys-tina-leonard/1117903478?ean=9780345549303

The Fox's Mask (Kitsune Trilogy #1)

by Anna Frost

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BLURB:

Demon hunter Akakiba keeps many secrets from his human companion. The fact he's a werefox isn't the worst one.

In feudal Japan, magic is dying. As a demon hunter, Akakiba finds this problematic. The evil he's been trained to destroy is disappearing and, along with it, the shape-shifting abilities of the clan he left behind. With his only companion, a determined young human named Yuki, Akakiba traverses the country slaying demons and performing odd jobs.

But when an army of demon-possessed humans masses to exterminate his clan, Akakiba must put aside old feuds and protect his family–-all while hiding an important secret from Yuki. Will they find a way to defeat the demon possessed before it's too late? With magic dwindling, will it matter either way?
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excerpt One:
Rumor said that shinobi carried out their work in the dead of night, wearing black to disappear in the shadows, entering castles unseen and committing murder unheard.

Rumor, Sanae found out, was wrong.

When she noticed the intruder, it was merely late evening and the colors of sunset hadn’t yet drained from the sky. A gentle wind was tugging strands of hair out of the red ribbon at the nape of her neck, and the air was thick with the scent of spring and renewed life. It was a sudden noise, a thud that did not belong, that first alerted her.

She knelt outside the clan head’s suite on the porch that opened on the gardens. She wasn’t wearing practical clothing like a real guard, but rather a bright-blue furisode with ample sleeves and a beautiful flower pattern. She wore no sword, but a knife was camouflaged in the colorful sash about her waist. Her function was to raise the alarm in case of danger. Fighting was for the adults, those who had undergone the coming-of-age ceremony and thus earned the right to bear a sword. She would soon be one of them, but not yet.

Sanae watched from the corner of her eyes as the intruder became visible among the flowering plum trees. The sound that had alerted her must have been his landing after he’d jumped the wall, an impressive feat indeed. Twice as impressive considering this wall was the second of the clan house, created specifically to protect the clan head and his entourage. The first wall was taller and better guarded. How had this intruder gained access?

Attacks on the Fox clan were so rare that it was considered an honor to witness one. For one to happen while she was standing guard for the first time was amazing luck, and her excitement was far stronger than her fear.

The intruder was dressed in a plain manner that would not attract attention in the clan house, but he could not disguise that which betrayed him: his human aura. The only humans who lived in the clan house were women who did not bear swords. None but a shinobi, an assassin, would be so bold as to try this.

Under normal circumstances, Sanae’s duty would have been to raise the alarm and watch as the intruder fled, discovered too soon to act. But there was no need to let the shinobi know he had been discovered; there was a fox in the garden.

Sanae stared at the fox until she had its attention, then deliberately flicked her gaze toward the intruder. The fox slunk away to enter through a door out of the shinobi’s sight. She forced herself to remain calm, to pretend she hadn’t noticed a thing. After all, she was but a young girl watching the flowers in bloom.

Her heartbeat quickened as the intruder approached, discreetly sizing her up. Would he attack, or would he seek another entrance to the rooms she guarded? There was no doubt he was after the clan head: assassins always were.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Anna Frost is a Canadian girl who spends winters writing and dreaming of summer. An overdose of Japanese culture and media has led her to write fantasy inspired by Japanese mythology. In a shocking break with literary tradition, Anna does not live with cats. Instead she lives with chinchillas, which can be just as demanding and evil as cats.

Author links:

www.annafrost.ca

https://twitter.com/Frostanity

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6452110.Anna_Frost

Buy links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Foxs-Mask-ebook/dp/B009SZNN5W

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/247839

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-foxs-mask-anna-frost/1113580803

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/ebook/the-fox-s-mask-1

BLURB:
Clark Jackson’s travels, for the first time, put him in touch with an intriguing species remarkably human-like. He becomes instantly fascinated with the Fronents and envious of their advanced technology. Striving to befriend them and learn more, his uncontrolled enthusiasm forsakes the use of appropriate caution and suspicion. Could their cold reception be a byproduct of their war with a vile species in this corner of the universe, or something else?

The magnificent splendor of an unexplored galaxy, new species to encounter and the adrenalin rush of space battle feed Clark’s awestruck hunger for exploration and adventure. Unfortunately, the more he learns the more he questions; including the wisdom of his entangled involvement in their war.

Meanwhile, back home in Des Moines, Iowa, Clark attempts to maintain an inconspicuous lifestyle to avoid attracting the attention of a certain relentless federal agency. His girlfriend’s own secret, however, could unravel it all.

**Even though the book is the second book in the series, it IS standalone

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EXCERPT

Clark studied the face before him.  The old creature carried a soft, wise and caring tone during the discussion.  This alien was easy to admire, however, it was difficult to get beyond the ruthless features.  The enormous bulk, massive display of teeth, scaly skin and intense eyes gave Clark shivers.  It would ease the conversation to talk with eyes closed but probably create the opposite affect desired for diplomacy.

Clark forced himself back to the discussion.  “Is this why you live in the caves?”

The pair of alligator eyes saddened.  “We did not always live in the caves.  Many vrems ago we lived out on the plains.  We farmed many fields and grew many crops.  We had villages to congregate in but most of our people lived in the vast openness of the farms.  There were many more of our people back then too.  Then came the aliens.  They destroyed our farms and stole a great many of our people.  We have since discovered that they use our people to work as slaves on their world.”

“Did you already know these aliens when they attacked?”

“At that time we had never had any contact with anyone from the stars.  We know them well now, however.”

“Have you met other aliens since then?”

“Let us stay on the topic of our three races, shall we?  Do your people fight any wars with other races?  How do these conflicts begin for you?”

“Our world has not gotten to the point yet in which we can travel to other worlds, so we have not met any alien races that I am aware of.”

“And yet you are here.”

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

David Englund is a storyteller (science fiction author) and teaches economics at North Dakota State University.  His first two titles, Upsetting the Tides and UNSEASONAL WAR are available on Amazon.  Camouflaged Encounters is due out in late 2014 and the fourth and fifth books are in progress.



 http://amazon.com/dp/B00F4MHDWM

http://davidjenglund.blogspot.com

https://www.facebook.com/david.englund.104 

The Eye-Dancers

by Michael Fedison

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BLURB:

Seventh-grader Mitchell Brant and three of his classmates inexplicably wake up at the back edge of a softball field to the sounds of a game, the cheering of the crowd. None of them remembers coming here. And as they soon learn, “here” is like no place they’ve ever seen. Cars resemble antiques from the 1950s. There are no cell phones, no PCs. Even the spelling of words is slightly off.

A compulsive liar, constantly telling fantastic stories to garner attention and approval, Mitchell can only wish this were just one more of his tall tales. But it isn’t. It’s all too real. Together, as they confront unexpected and life-threatening dangers, Mitchell and his friends must overcome their bickering and insecurities to learn what happened, where they are, and how to get back home.

The answers can be found only in the mysterious little girl with the blue, hypnotic eyes. The one they had each dreamed of three nights in a row before arriving here. She is their only hope. And, as they eventually discover, they are her only hope.

 And time is running out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excerpt One:

(Opening of the book)

 Peering out his bedroom window, his eyes flattened into squinting slits, Mitchell Brant saw her.

“No,” he said.  “It can’t be her.  It can’t be.”

     
But it was.  She had come again.

           

He looked away, at the night-shadows on the floor, at the sheets jumbled and strewn on his bed.  Maybe she wasn’t really out there.  Maybe it was just an illusion, some odd distortion of the light.

He looked out the window.

She was still there.

He felt the fine hairs at the nape of his neck stand up.  Gooseflesh, cold against the stifling humidity filtering in through the open window, speckled his forearms.

The girl was standing under the streetlamp, looking straight in at him—the same way she had last night and the night before.  She was just a child, probably no more than seven years old—his sister’s age.  What was she doing out in the street, alone, well past midnight?  Was she a runaway?  And why had she come three nights in a row?

He tried to look away again, but he couldn’t.  It was as though the girl had cast a spell over him.  “What’s with you?” he said to himself.  “Just go back to sleep.”  Instead, he stood up.  She had raised her right arm above her head, waving at him frantically.

“Help me.”  The voice filtered in through the window.  “Why don’t you . . .?”  The girl’s voice.  And yet, there was something different about it, something off.  It sounded hollow, as if it had originated from a dark place, a secret place, cold like the grave.  

Michael S. Fedison was born in Rochester, New York, and now lives with his wife, Sarah, and regal cat, Luke, in the green hills of central Vermont. Michael has been writing creatively for as long as he can remember, and has had short fiction published in several literary magazines, including Iconoclast and The Written Word. He works as a full-time technical writer and also is a freelance proofreader and copy editor.

Michael has been a lover of imaginative stories his entire life. He enjoys any story that takes you by the hand, lifts you up, and transports you to another place, a new and creative way of looking at the world around us.

 Buy Links:

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