Book Tour--THE CRACKED SLIPPER

Goddess Fish Book Tour

THE CRACKED SLIPPER by Stephanie Alexander
A romantic women’s fiction fantasy

BLURB
When Eleanor Brice unexpectedly wins the heart of Gregory Desmarais, Crown Prince of Cartheigh, she's sure she's found her happily-ever-after. Unfortunately, Prince Charming has a loose grip on his temper, a looser grip on his marriage vows, and a tight grip on the bottle.

Eight years of mistreatment, isolation and clandestine book learning hardly prepare Eleanor for life at Eclatant Palace, where women are seen, not heard. According to Eleanor's eavesdropping parrot, no one at court appreciates her unladylike tendency to voice her opinion. To make matter worse, her royal fiancé spends his last night of bachelorhood on a drunken whoring spree. Before the ink dries on her marriage proclamation Eleanor realizes that she loves her husband's best friend, former soldier Dorian Finley.

Eleanor can't resist Dorian's honesty, or his unusual admiration for her intelligence, and soon both are caught in a dangerous obsession. She drowns her confusion in charitable endeavors, but the people's love can't protect her from her feelings. When a magical crime endangers the bond between unicorns, dragons, and the royal family, a falsely accused Eleanor must clear her own name to save her life. The road toward vindication will force a choice between hard-won security and an impossible love.

The Cracked Slipper is a book club friendly fairytale retelling in the vein of Gregory Maguire, with a dash of romance. Set in a pseudo-renaissance, corset-and-petticoats enchanted kingdom, The Cracked Slipper brings a magical twist to women's fiction.

EXCERPT
The dragon stood and lumbered toward the first cave. It passed the other unicorns, slowing every few steps, and they responded with reassuring whinnies. The next dragon appeared, followed by two more of Tremor’s unicorn guides. The first dragon called to the second, who screamed once in return. Both creatures seemed eager to get underground.

The transfer continued for nearly an hour without much fanfare. Eleanor thought she must have miscounted when there was a break in the procession.

“This will be the last one,” said Gregory. “I wonder what’s taking so long.”

Tremor paced at the mouth of the cave. Dark smoke rolled from under the ground. Tremor sent two of his fellows down below, and when after a few minutes they did not return, Thromba called to him to send two more.

Without warning, and with an earsplitting scream, and a new dragon burst from the cave. Stubby horns revealed her as a doe.

“Ho!” Gregory yelled. “Nestlings!”

Three baby dragons, about the size of saddle horses, squealed and circled their mother’s feet. She screamed and shot fire at the wall of men and unicorns. The men fell back. The unicorns just shut their eyes. As Gregory steered Eleanor toward the cabin she caught a flash of white behind the dragon’s legs. Teardrop had somehow been pushed from the line. She was pinned between the raging dragon and the canyon walls. As the dragon backed and reared, her massive tail, all wrathful muscle, swung in a deadly pendulum.

“Teardrop!” Eleanor screamed.

Teardrop zigged, looking for a way around the mother dragon. The dragon’s tail came down hard and clipped the mare across the shoulder. Teardrop slammed into the rock wall. She cowered, stunned and heaving.

“Teardrop!” Eleanor yanked free of Gregory’s grip.

“Eleanor, stop!”

She ran past the startled guards and into the chaos.

“Get back!” Tremor snorted.

“I won’t!” She yelled to be heard over the dragon. “I’m going to help her.” “You can’t, and we must control this situation.”

“I will, damnit!” She tried to get around the stallion but he stepped in front of her again. “Get out of my way!” she stormed.

He lowered his head. “If you insist on this foolery at least let me help you.”

Gregory was shoving past the guards, but she climbed onto Tremor’s back before he could reach her.

“Eleanor!” Gregory screamed.

She clung to Tremor’s mane as he raced at the dragon. Her eyelashes stuck together in the blinding heat. Tremor dodged and wheeled as the dragon spit fire. Two other unicorns flanked them.

Tremor skidded to a stop. Eleanor leapt off and ran to Teardrop. “Hurry!” Tremor called.

Foam dripped from Teardrop’s muzzle as she pressed against the wall. She wasn’t bleeding—her thick hide was nearly impenetrable—but a raised welt marred her shoulder. Her eyes rolled.

“Teardrop,” Eleanor tried to keep her voice calm over the screams of the dragon as it went after Tremor. “Help me. Take me back to Gregory.”

Teardrop swung her head at Eleanor’s voice. Her dark eyes came into focus. “Why are you here?” she whispered. “You will be killed.”

“So you must take me out.”

Teardrop nodded, and Eleanor grabbed her mane and pulled herself onto the mare’s back. “Go, now,” she called. “I need you to get me past this dragon.”

Teardrop scraped at the ground with one hoof and pricked her ears. She watched Tremor and his helpers and the mother dragon. She spotted an opening and dove for it. The dragon spun and swung her tail again. Eleanor held on as Teardrop leapt. They barely cleared the spinning spikes.

They came to a stop past the line of unicorns, and Eleanor’s legs gave out when she slid to the ground. Gregory caught her, cursing and kissing her.

“Dammit, Eleanor,” he said. “You’re the most stubborn, disobedient, brave, exasperating woman.”

She sat on the ground with her head between her knees. The magicians bustled around Teardrop. They tried to examine her injury, but she snorted them away. She stood over Eleanor, breathing down the back of her neck.

Eleanor raised her head as Tremor called a dozen of his fellows into the skirmish. The doe blew fire, but more unicorns pressed in and she backed down. Her children squeaked and smoked around her. Tremor stepped from the line and knelt on one knee. To Eleanor’s amazement one of the nestlings crept out from under its mother’s belly and slunk toward him. The doe hissed a warning. Tremor stood, and gently touched the baby dragon with his horn.

The doe exhaled a long blast of fire, but this time there was no fight in it. The other baby dragons came forward, and Tremor touched them all before nudging them toward the new cave with his muzzle. Their mother let our several low whistles and followed them.

Once the doe disappeared under the ground, Thromba ran to Eleanor and Gregory. “Dear HighGod, sire,” he said. “It was a botch-up, and the princess nearly roasted.”

“No, Thromba,” Gregory said. “We both know you can never tell how the does with nestlings will react. Last year we lost three men to a new mother. Not so bad, really.” He knelt beside Eleanor.

“Are you angry with me?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “How can I be angry? But you must be more careful.”

He helped her stand on her shaky legs. She ran a hand over Teardrop’s withers and the white hide twitched under her fingers. “Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Some, but we heal quickly.”

“Princess,” said an airy voice behind her. It was Tremor.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry if I made things more complicated.”

Tremor lowered his head. “I thank you,” he said. “For reminding me of what is important.”

ABOUT STEPHANIE
Stephanie Alexander grew up in the suburbs of Washington, DC, the oldest of three children. Drawing, writing stories, and harassing her parents for a pony consumed much of her childhood. After graduating from high school in 1995 she earned a Bachelor of Arts in Communications from the College of Charleston, South Carolina. She returned to Washington, DC, where she followed a long-time fascination with sociopolitical structures and women’s issues to a Master of Arts in Sociology from the American University. She spent several years as a Policy Associate at the International Center for Research on Women, a think-tank focused on women’s health and economic advancement.

Stephanie embraced full-time motherhood after the birth of the first of her three children in 2003. After six wonderful years buried in diapers and picture books she returned to her childhood passion and wrote her own fairytale. Her family put down permanent southern roots in Charleston in 2011. Stephanie is an adjunct professor of Sociology at the College of Charleston.

Check out Stephanie’s website. Connect with her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter @crackedslipper. Find The Cracked Slipper on amazon.

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Hey readers,

Love me a good fairytale retelling.

Want more from this tour? Follow it here.

And don’t forget to comment for a chance at a prize.

Stephanie will be awarding a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

Arguing for Writers

Good Tuesday,

I was very, very, very, very (you get the idea) behind on life last week. I only posted once. *horrified face*

I’m back on track this week. I’ll post three times, and to make up for my earlier blunder, I have a real writing-related post today.

There’s been talk within my circle of writers lately about writing conflict. As any good writer knows, conflict isn’t just fist/sword/gun fights. There’s internal conflict, small group conflict, non-physical conflict, etc.

A big part of conflict is arguing. Being who I am, I am no stranger to the finer nuances of the well-orchestrated argument. I frequently forget that not everyone is familiar with arguing, though. As a writer, it’s important for the toolbox (or lockbox) to be filled to overflowing with every tool (lock?) imaginable.

So I’m here today to discuss the finer nuances of arguing.

***NOTE: No people were harmed or yelled at in the writing of this blog post.***

The Argument

Ever wanted to punch someone in the face? Yes? We’re going to get along wonderfully (just kidding). Maybe? You’re getting there. No? We’ve got work to do. As I said above, conflict isn’t always throwing punches. Arguments are often shouting matches with no punches.

Then why did I ask you about punching someone’s face? Arguments are the steps before the punches start flying. Once the first hit makes contact, the situation’s escalated past argument to brawl. I’m here today to talk about the crucial time before the broken noses and split lips.

How do arguments start? Let’s stick to two-person arguments for the sake of confusion. So person A disagrees with person B (or vice versa if you’d prefer).

A - “I want the green curtains.”
B – “I want the blue curtains.”

Seem stupid? Stay with me. You’d be amazed how many arguments blossom from simple statements like this. A and B have stated their different preferences. Now what? In a perfect world, one would say “you’re right. Let’s get the blue/green curtains.” This is not a perfect world, and so often, the things we say are not what’s really bothering us.

A – “I really want the green curtains.”
B – “And of course because you want them, we have to get them.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. The argument has taken a subtle shift. It’s no longer simply about the color of the curtains. B feels as if his/her needs are tossed aside in favor of A’s on a regular basis. B’s statement implies that A has gotten his/her way before—frequently—and used whatever methods necessary—begging, coercing, flat-out stating the “law”—to get it.

A – “What is that supposed to mean?”
B – “Please. It’s always what you want. Remember the kitchen floor tiles?”

More problems. A either doesn’t know or doesn’t want to acknowledge what he/she is like. But B isn’t being completely honest either. He/she is hiding behind curtains and floor tile choices to keep from stating the real problem.

A – “What does the floor tiles have to do with the curtains?”
B – “Of course you don’t know. Why would you know?”

Oh boy. If you’re anything like me, at this point you’re thinking “B, just say it.” But B doesn’t. In fact, once this pattern has begun, B will evade and lie until either the argument blows up (with no resolution) or until he/she is backed into a corner and has to say why he/she is upset.

A – “I don’t understand you!”
B – “You never have!” *storms out of the room*

Alternatively

A – “I don’t understand you!”
B – “That’s because you never listen to me. I’m not happy, A. Can’t you see that?”

The second option is the healthier one. Unfortunately, the first option is the one more often seen. In terms of fiction, you want to employ various versions of the first one until the end of the story. The first one widens the gap between characters through a lack of resolution. It’s tough to resolve anything when one person leaves. By contrast, option two shows a step toward resolution. “I’m not happy, A,” is a confession. B has finally said what’s bothering him/her. Now the discussing (rather than the arguing) can begin.

So there are the various parts of the argument. What are A and B feeling throughout this process. This is the part, I think, where most people get stuck. Anyone can write dialogue between two characters who can’t decide on curtains. It’s another thing to know and recognize the stages of an argument.

Blue vs. green curtains – Most likely, B’s emotions have been growing for a while. Arguments never come out of the blue (no pun intended). There’s always a backstory to every blow-out. Find a reason for your character to feel as if his/her needs are not being met. Be creative. Then when A makes the harmless “I want the green curtains” statement, B’s patience hit the last straw, and the claws come out. B is fed-up, hurt, scared, and wants, more than anything, to be heard. A, by contrast, is confused and can’t understand why his/her normally quiet partner is acting like this.

Of course you don’t understand – This is a classic line. It never gets old because it’s always used. B is trying to hurt A. He/she is trying to pull a confession out of A. They want to hear “you’re right. I don’t understand. What’s the matter?” This, unfortunately, is rarely the response they get. And sometimes, even when it is, B doesn’t respond by calming down and explaining. When people are riled up, sometimes they just want to fight. Yes, they want to resolve, but B’s desire to make A feel the same way B has for so long takes over. It’s no longer about fixing things. It’s now about causing pain.

You never understand me *door slams* - Ouch. B has thrown his/her last verbal punch and left A to either wonder or go back to what he/she was doing and not care. (That’s up to the author.) B, at this point, most likely gets in his/her car and drives to a friend’s house or until the car runs out of gas. He/she wants space. He/she wants to swear at the top of their lungs. He/she wants to play out the myriad of ways the argument could have gone and obsess on the reasons it didn’t go those ways. It’s not a pretty picture.

What’s going on with A during this time? If A is the “go back to what he/she was doing and forget it” type, A is watching TV, going out with friends, or getting ready to move out—“I don’t want to put up with this anymore, so I won’t.” If A is the wondering type, A is as emotionally distraught as B. A is going to sit in the silent house and think about what could have caused the argument. If A is really caring, A will wait for B to return and try to resolve the earlier blow-out immediately.

B – I’m not happy because your mother did it again.”
A – “My mother has nothing to do with this.”
B – “Yes, she does. Why does she hate me?”
A – “My mother hates no one. Get over yourself.”

This is a very bad direction for an argument to take. Either A is right—his/her mother hates no one—and B is overly emotional, or B is right—A’s mother hates him/her—and A is being irrational.

If A is right, this could be a relationship ender. Attacking family members without good cause rarely ends well. A is feeling betrayed—how could B be so mean? B is frustrated—how can A not see what’s right in front of him/her.

If B is right, this is a good place for a meaningful speech on B’s part. You know, that speech that ultimately forces A to see the truth. At this point, A may or may not be aware that he/she is rapidly losing ground. If A is not aware, he/she will keep the argument going—why stop now? If A is aware, there’s one of two options. Either A will relinquish the anger and actually talk to B, or A will make his/her argument louder and more forceful to hide that he/she knows he/she has lost. It’s called denial, and people love it when they might be wrong. “No way am I admitting the other person is right.” Except that’s about as healthy as storming out of the room.

And don’t forget the underlying emotions. While A is shouting all the louder to keep from sounding wrong, he might be feeling guilty but unable to admit it. Or he might not care. If B is winning, B might be feeling triumphant. Or B might be feeling bad for yelling, or, in a worst-case situation, B might be gearing up to say “forget it. I’m sorry I snapped.” That would only bring the argument back to square one.

The key with the argument is to know your characters. Who are they? Which role would they play in an argument? Do they fight for their stance or give in at the first sign of bad weather? How quickly to they give in? Do they have an ego problem that keeps them from being the first to give in/apologize? You need to know all of these and more, depending on the specific argument.

I hope I’ve given the baffled arguer somewhere to start. If you’re a non-confrontational person, understanding the argument can be tough. It took me a while to stop having my characters argue at every opportunity. Arguments were how I got through a lot of my childhood, but I’ve moved past them. I’m not saying to go out and argue for the sake of research, but staying calm all the time isn’t healthy either. Humans need to let out steam, and they need to stand up for themselves. Sometimes that means arguing.

Thanks for reading.

Book Tour--LUCID

Goddess Fish Book Tour

LUCID by Natalie Roers
A young adult paranormal fantasy

BLURB
Being hailed by critics as an intelligent new voice in young adult fiction, Roers' debut novel tells the anything but ordinary, coming of age story of a small town, teen aged, misfit named Travis Hunter.

Disfigured at birth and ostracized at school, Travis dreams of acceptance and secretly yearns for the affection of a beautiful young woman named Corrine. When a mysterious doctor promises to help Travis through something called lucid dreaming, Travis suddenly finds himself ushered into a secret society called "The Lucid", a collection of social outcasts like himself, who have created their own world inside of dreams.

When Travis discovers he is able to bring Corrine into these dreams, he gets more than he ever bargained for and soon finds himself learning the secrets of love and life in a fantastic unconscious world.

An instant classic, Lucid is a timeless story of self-acceptance with a fresh paranormal twist.

EXCERPT
Corrine sipped nervously at her coffee, looking for the most appropriate way to brush over the topic. “It was just nice being able to be ourselves, ya know? No fears, no consequences, no regrets. It’s such a significant word, isn’t it?”

“What word?”

“Lucid. It means to have a clear perception of things. Don’t you think it’s funny that it would take a dream for us to see clearly?”

Corrine placed her coffee on the ground next to her. “Like you,” she said. “Who would’ve known you were like this?”

“Like what?”

“Well for one, you talk!” She laughed. “I must’ve seen you dozens of times before. Why don’t you ever say anything to anyone?”

“I’ve been around enough people to know what they’re thinking when they stare at me. It doesn’t help me any to hear them say it.”

Corrine reached a hand forward and touched my knee. “I’m not gonna lie,” she said. “You do look a little different. You know what though? I don’t even notice it that much now that I’m talking to you.”

I looked down at her hand.

She pulled it back. “You should talk more,” she said, nodding. “Some people might surprise you. Not all of them…but some.”

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"Roers' debut novel heralds the arrival of an intelligent, heartfelt voice in the world of young adult fiction. The rich characters, emotional complexity, and confident prose are matched only by the landscape of dreams that Roers sets them against... a landscape brought vividly to life by the author's seemingly boundless imagination. This is a novel that respects its readers as much as its characters, and that's a beautiful rarity." ~ Mike Flanagan, Filmmaker, Absentia and Oculus

ABOUT NATALIE

Natalie Roers is a veteran writer, voice artist, and on-air personality. A journalist by trade, Lucid is her first work of fiction. She is busy at work on her second novel and hopes to raise money and social awareness for worthy causes with each book she writes. Natalie plans to donate a portion of every sale of this book to her favorite anti-bullying organizations. She lives with her husband Cory, and son Austin, in Columbia, South Carolina.

Find Natalie on her websites: jointhelucid.com and Natasha-r.com. Connect with her on Facebook: Natalie Roers and Lucid. Check out her blog, and follow her on goodreads.

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Hey readers,

I chose to host this tour, not only because LUCID looks like a great read, but also because I know how it feels to go through school different from the other kids. Having a disability does that to you. Well done, Natalie, for writing about the different kid.

Want more? Follow the tour here.

And don’t forget to comment for a chance at a prize.

Natalie will award a $10 Amazon or BN.com gift card to one randomly drawn commenter.

Celebrating end of Semester!

Happy Friday!

Celebrating good times. I passed in everything for this semester last night! I don’t have to look at my thesis today! As much as I’ve come to like the project, I’m very happy about this. I need a break from it.

I believe in parties. I believe in sharing celebration, and I share my celebration today with a piece of flash fiction.

I was challenged to write a piece, fewer than 300 words in length, in a genre outside my comfort zone. My comfort zones are science fiction and fantasy—mostly fantasy.

I was given historical romance.

*gulp*

But I took the challenge and wrote a pretty good story, if I do say so myself.

Impropriety

By Mary DeSantis

Lady Estra folded her shaking hands in her lap. What had she thought? What irreverent things passed through her mind when she agreed to ride alone in a carriage with the man beside her?

“I beg your pardon, milady,” Lord Brannick said, leaning closer. “I meant not to offend. If you could accept my apology?”

Estra’s breath froze. God above, he was too close.

A lurch shook the carriage. Lord Brannick fell back, bracing himself against the seat. “What the duce?” He pulled aside the window shade. “Lord in Heaven—“

The carriage dipped.

“Oh my,” Lady Estra said as she was tossed against her company. If sitting with him had been improper, what was this? Even so a rush of desire swept through her. She made to meet his eyes, her gaze passing over the window.

She screamed.

Beyond was a drop, a hundred feet or more.

“Lord above!” she said, even now hating to curse. “We’re going to die.”

“It would appear that way.” Lord Brannick slid his arms around her, his touch lulling.

Estra leaned against him. No. What was she doing? She was in a falling carriage, and her only thoughts were of taking advantage of being alone with her handsome protector. Her heart raced, though from fear or desire, she didn’t know.

His lips brushed her temple, and he murmured her name, music to her ears.

She tilted her head toward his and waited for the soft caress of his lips. Did it matter if she was improper now?

Either way, she was going to Hell.

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Have a wonderful weekend. 

The Kindle and I

Wednesdays are my day lately.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, readers of all ages, I have exciting news.

Well, it’s exciting for me, and if you’re blind, legally blind, or a person who likes listening to books, it’s exciting news for you too.

By listening, I don’t mean audio books. It’s not actors reading. I mean accessible tech. I mean a computerized voice reading.

Think I’m crazy for liking that sort of thing. I am not. Growing up legally blind, reading options were slim. When I was a kid, it was Braille (which I’ve only ever been mediocre at) or talking books, which were fun when I was little. As I got older, though, and reading became both a pastime and a route toward academic success, Braille was definitely too slow, and audio books were, likewise, not fast enough.

Halfway through college, I discovered Bookshare. I’ve mentioned this site before. It’s a great resource for visually impaired readers. Its only drawback is that, though its staff and volunteers work very hard (and I commend them for it), there are so many books in the world. Getting all of them onto the website is a daunting task. I love Bookshare. I’ll always keep my membership, but in the academic-heavy life I’ve chosen, access to books is a necessity, and up until now, if Bookshare didn’t have it, it was check the local library to scan it. If they didn’t have it, it was order it from Amazon in paperback to scan it. If Amazon didn’t have it—which was rare—it was scrounge. In other words, if Bookshare didn’t have it, it was a ton of work on my part, and with deadlines, a ton of time was not something I always had.

On a more personal note, it’s always been a bone of contention for me that sighted readers have access to books the day they came out. I always had to wait, even with Bookshare most of the time, anywhere from a few days to a few years to read a “new release.” Think of how easy it is to go to a bookstore or go online and get a book. Now think of how inconvenient it would be if you couldn’t. Some would say “Well, then I just won’t read.” As a life-long book lover and a writer, that’s not an option for me. I love to read.

And now, kids, I’m on the same page. Amazon Kindle finally went accessible.

Didn’t they have audio books before?
Some kindle books had text-to-speech capability, yes. But the way they did it, they needed audio permissions from the author. The new method puts the books out there as assistive technology. Thus, audio permission isn’t needed, and all books can, with the right software, be listened to.

I downloaded said software last week. I’ve only read a few books with it so far (end of the semester no time and such), but man, it’s like a dream come true. The world’s library is at my fingertips. For someone who’s never had that option, it’s amazing. I can finally read all the books my author buddies have published. Depressingly few are on Bookshare at this moment in time.

Interested in this?

PC users—download: kindle for PC with accessibility plugin

It works. There’s two voices to choose from—one male and one female. Are they the best, no, but they’re understandable, and they allow the visually impaired to read kindle books.

I’m told there is also a Mac version. I don’t own a Mac, however. If someone with a Mac would like to do some market research and report in the comments if it exists and/or works, how cool would you be? You might even get 5 bonus points. 

Stay tuned for my day’s creative inspiration.

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Oh my, Amazon,

Many years I have waited
For a gift like this to appear
Why, do you know over getting books?
I’ve so many times shed a tear

Oh my, oh my
I’ll write you customer reviews
Tell you of your good deed in detail
With this great option now, dear, there is no way I can fail.
If you work as you should.
It will be all good.

Did it finally happen?
Is it actually here for good?
No more scrounging for books in a format that works
But a method that could
let me get what I need
If I buy books
So I’ll buy books.

I could use a kindle.
It’s at last proved its worth.
To read books on kindle
What I’ve waited for since…since birth.

And with all the books to download
By my tech I won’t be mired.
As long as I get what I need
I don’t mind the price being highered.

It’s like a fairytale come true
Book source on which I can rely
And that’s how we’ll begin,
The kindle and I.

Once I have a kindle
My whole life will change
Cuz once I have a kindle
From books I won’t be estranged.

No frantic searching for class reading
No scanning page by page
All the books at my fingertips
Think of what I’ll save on rage.

And this gift of the word right at my side
Finally at last it’ll be mine
When we are hand in hand
The kindle and I.

You’ll hear the computerized voice
And say “I have a question for you.
Isn’t a voice that’s so impassive? A b*tch to listen to?”

And I’ll smile and hit the pause key
And I’ll sit you down next to me
“It might sound that way to you,
But if you knew what before this I’d gone through.

Of course the voice doesn’t matter to me.”
”All right then,” you’ll reply.
Oh what a pair we’ll be,
The kindle and I.
Yes, what a pair we’ll be,
The kindle and—

Unlimited.
My future is unlimited.
And I’ve just had a vision almost like a prophesy.
I know. It sounds truly crazy.
And true, the vision’s hazy.
But I swear someday there’ll be
Knowledge of this, through the world
That all started…with me.

And I’ll sit there with my kindle
Feeling things I’ve never felt.
And though I’d never show it
I’d be so happy I could melt.

And so it will be for the rest of my life
I won’t want nothing else till I die

The ability to read
The books that I need
By my tech not stymied.

The kindle and I.

-Parody of “The Wizard and I” from WICKED the Musical

Book Tour--A MATTER OF CIRCUMSTANCE AND CELLUDRONES

Goddess Fish Book Tour

A MATTER OF CIRCUMSTANCE AND CELLUDRONES by Claire Robyns
Dark Matters Book 1 – A steampunk paranormal romance

BLURB
A Victorian Steampunk/Paranormal adventure with strong elements of romance…

Lady Lily d'Bulier is prim, proper, and prefers to think of herself as pragmatic rather than timid. And avoiding life-threatening situations at all costs is just plain practical. But everything changes when Lord Adair tracks her down in London; searching for answers he seems to think she has.

Greyston Adair is a blackguard and a smuggler, although British Customs will have to catch him red-handed to prove the latter. Fortunately, the dirigibles they float around in have never been able to get near his air dust.

Hell is rising, One Demon at a Time…

With Lady Ostrich hunting them, and the mystery of how their lives tie back to Cragloden Castle and the powerful McAllister clan, Lily has no option but to throw propriety to the wind and run off with Greyston to Scotland, away from the immediate danger and toward possible answers.

EXCERPT
Evelyn was even more intrigued when she entered the drawing room. Not only was Lily’s mysterious gentleman the scrumptious Lord Adair from the previous night, but the two of them looked as if they’d been caught in flagrante. Lord Adair’s neck cloth looked as if it had been tied in unseemly haste—by a blind man. Lily’s skirts were scuffed and wrinkled and her bodice wasn’t sitting quite straight.

Lily left his side to meet Evelyn halfway across the room.

“If I’d known you were being ravished by Lord Dashing down here,” Evelyn declared in a whisper, “I would have stayed up there—” she raised her eyes to the ceiling “—another twenty minutes.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Lily’s hands flew to her hair.

“It’s your skirts that need patting down.” She linked her arm in Lily’s and strolled in the direction of Lord Adair, keeping her voice low. “What did he do? Drag you into the woods and toss you over a log?”

Lily went white in the face.

“By God.” Evelyn surged forward. “I’ll deal with the bloody Scotsman.”

“Evie, no, wait.” Lily dug her heels in. “Nothing happened. Must you always latch onto the most preposterous conclusions?”

Evelyn’s brows drew tight. Something felt wrong, but her friend made a valid point. She was rash and brash, a fact she’d never denied. She kept her sharp tongue on a leash and turned a smile on the man instead as they drew close. “How charming, Lord Adair, I was hoping we’d see more of you.”

“Lady Harchings.” He inclined his head in greeting.

Clearly not trusting her to keep the peace, Lily inserted breathlessly, “I was just telling Lady Harchings that we were riding in the park—“

“And your horses tossed both of you?” Evelyn couldn’t resist.

Lily rewarded her with a glare. “We were in Lord Adair’s carriage, but, um, yes, a rabbit or fox must have run across the path because one of the horses took fright—“

“You really should train them better,” Evelyn told him.

“The rabbits or the horses?” Lord Adair riposted dryly, his eyes never leaving Lily and a grin tugging at his mouth.

ABOUT CLAIRE
Claire Robyns lives in Berkshire, England, with her husband and twin boys. For so long as she has memories, she was either reading, dreaming about reading, or planning what she'd be reading next. Then one day she started dreaming about writing and that was the beginning of an amazing journey.

When Claire isn't thigh-deep in laundry, shopping, cooking and general crowd control, you'll find her head-and-heart-deep in the tangled lives of her characters.

Visit Clair at her website or on Twitter @clairerobyns or on Facebook.

Purchase A MATTER OF CIRCUMSTANCE AND CELLUDRONES -Amazon
-B&N
-Kobo

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Hey, readers,

I’d train the horses, though rabbits could be fun too.

Follow the rest of this tour here.

And don’t forget to comment for a chance at a prize.

Claire will be awarding a $50 Amazon gift card to two randomly drawn commenters during the tour.

Book Tour--ELVEN BLOOD

Goddess Fish Book Tour

ELVEN BLOOD by Debra Dunbar
An urban/contemporary fantasy

AN INTERVIEW WITH DEBRA
-What book and/or experience made you want to be a writer?

I’ve always been a storyteller, and becoming a writer was just a natural growth from my love of sharing my imagination with others. At five I found a neighbor’s flower garden in a clearing surrounded by woods. It became a magical place between the worlds. I’d convinced all the neighborhood kids that we could see the elves and fairies at dusk, if we were very quiet and didn’t scare them off.

Once I learned to write, my storytelling just moved to the page. I wrote animal stories, mysteries, and fantasy tales as early as the first grade.

-What genre(s) do you write?

The IMP series is urban/contemporary fantasy, but I also have a horror short story, a set of erotic romance stories, and a YA Wiccan romance in an anthology. I love to challenge myself with new genres, but I’m particularly fond of fantasy and supernatural.

-ELVEN BLOOD

Sam may be the Iblis, but she is also an imp with a price on her head. The powerful demon Haagenti won’t rest until she’s dragged back to Hel for “punishment”. Sam knows she can’t face Haagenti and win, so when an Elf Lord offers to eliminate the demon in return for her help, Sam accepts. It’s a simple job – find and retrieve a half-breed monster dead or alive. But finding this demon/elf hybrid isn’t proving easy and time is running out.

-Spoilers?

It was after lunchtime when Gregory arrived for our meeting. So much for “early”.

He usually appeared in my house, unannounced, but this time he strode in the front door holding a head by the hair. He plopped it down on my dining room table and waved a hand, causing a depressing amount of paperwork to cover the table surface. I ignored the paperwork and focused my attention on the more interesting item.

“Is this a present?” I asked in delight.

I picked up the head and sat it like a hat on top of my own head, modeling it with a flourish.

“How did you know? I’ve always wanted one of these. And it fits perfectly.”

The angel was not amused. “We’ve got a lot to review today, and as often as you get sidetracked, we’re liable to be at it for a week. Put the head down and focus.”

Why the fuck did he bring a head if he didn’t want me to mess with it?

“Should I put it in a vase? Display it as a centerpiece on the table? How can you expect me to focus on stupid, boring paperwork when I’ve got this amazing, decomposing flesh tempting me with its beauty?”

“Fine. We’ll address this matter first, and then I’ll get rid of the thing so it won’t continue to distract you.”

He took the head from my hands and stuck it back on the table. It made an entertaining squelch sound.

-For aspiring writers, any tips?

Don’t let the meanies get you down – especially if you find yourself being the meanie. Sales may be sluggish at first, you may doubt yourself, but keep your chin up. Enchant one reader at a time, and with patience and perseverance, you’ll succeed.

-What’s your favorite book/genre to read?

I’m all over the place. I really love urban fantasy, and paranormal, but there are times when I’ll jump to a Regency or even a sweet romance. I’m reading a paranormal thriller on my Kindle right now – it’s so good I don’t want it to end!

-What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever written?

Oh no! That’s like asking me to pick my favorite child!

I do love the humorous scenes in my books the most. Almost everything I write has a comedic scene in it - even the erotic romances. Life is funny, and a good laugh helps us get through with the painful things, the embarrassing things, and the downright boring things we have to cope with as humans. So when Sam gets summoned by three teenage boys or Naughty Mom jokes about her elastic waist pants, I hope you laugh.

ABOUT DEBRA
Debra Dunbar lives on a farm in the northeast United States with her husband, three boys, and a Noah’s ark of four legged family members. Her urban fantasy novels feature supernatural elements in local settings. In addition to A DEMON BOUND, SATAN’S SWORD, and ELVEN BLOOD, she has also published a short story erotica series titled NAUGHTY MOM. Connect with her on Twitter @debra_dunbar, on Facebook at debradunbarauthor, and on her website at debradunbar.com .

Get started reading books 1 and 2 in the Imp Book series before tackling ELVEN BLOOD.
-A DEMON BOUND
-SATAN’S SWORD

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Hey readers,

Love me a good urban fantasy, and love me a character that plays with a decapitated head. That’s hilarious. Thanks for the interview and excerpt, Debra!

Want more? Follow the tour here.

And don’t forget to comment for a shot at some awesome prizes.

Debra will be awarding an e-book copy of A DEMON BOUND (book 1 in the Imp Series) to a randomly drawn commenter at every stop, and a grand prize of a Kindle Fire with an ELVEN BLOOD book cover skin to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour (US ONLY).