Saturday, December 22, 2012

Bodyguards (Quicksilver COdex #1) by Kallysten

Title: Bodyguards
Series: Quicksilver Codex, Book 1
Author: Kallysten
Genre: Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance
Publisher: Self-Published
Words: 60,000
Release Date: November 12th 2012

Book Description:
On the verge of her twentieth birthday, Vivien’s worries are those of a typical young woman: doing well in college, gaining more independence, and maybe managing to show Brad, her classmate and sometimes jogging partner, that she wouldn’t mind taking their burgeoning relationship to a different level.

Everything changes in the blink of an eye. Vivien stumbles into a knife fight, watches a man die in front of her, and soon listens, stunned, as Brad and his brother Aedan tell her a story of magic, vampires and a murderous ruler intent on killing a princess in hiding – a tale in which she is the princess and heir to a realm she didn’t know existed.

Vivien’s first instinct is to refuse to believe this incredible tale, even if it comes from a man she is attracted to. But when her self-proclaimed bodyguards use magic to take her to a different world, the edges of reality start blurring and Vivien has to figure who she truly is.

About the Author:
Kallysten’s most exciting accomplishment to date was to cross a few thousand miles and an ocean to pursue (and catch!) the love of her life. She has been writing for fifteen years, and always enjoyed sharing her stories and listening to the readers' reactions. After playing with science fiction, short stories and poetry, she is now trying her hand, heart and words at paranormal romance novels.

To see her stories, including free short stories and sample chapters, visit

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Why Write Fantasy? by Charlotte Henley Babb

At some level, all fiction is fantasy, and at some level, fiction is true. It's the willingness of a reader to suspend disbelief that makes a story work. Fantasy requires a bit more suspension, and like a bridge, that suspension needs a good bit of structure.
Since the fantasy comprises things that are not seen in mundane reality, at least not for most people, the challenge is to make the differences in the fantasy world seem normal, at least to the characters. One reason for the Gulliver's Travel trope, told by  the stranger in a strange land, is so that the newcomer can think and comment about the weirdness of the world.  The natives don't notice their own normal.
The newcomer also inadvertently breaks taboo, stumbles into a problem that he or she does not even see, but which causes turmoil for the natives. This works on any real-world setting as well, with the colonial trying to assimilate the natives, or the Yankee trying to fit in with her Southern belle neighbors.
The otherness of fantasy makes it fun. Magic works. Dragons abound, whether virile and dangerous or powerful and snarky. Humans as a sentient race are not alone, though they may be seen as second class by other races—elves, dwarves, trolls, and the list goes on. Fantasy is always about finding out who you are, deciding to do what you think you can't, because the fate of the world depends on you. It's a bit narcissistic. But isn't it fun to pretend for a few hours that what you do matters that much?
The challenge of fantasy is to do something different with the same tropes. You can get an insight to our Euro-centered culture by seeing how we write about the other races of fantasy—tall is good, light is good, short is funny, ugly is evil. So consider a wisecracking elf, a philosophizing dwarf, a troll who works as an exotic dancer. Put them in the modern world, where no one still believes, and they keep out of sight or they work the street, recognized if not accepted. If the character uses magic, then it's likely to make the task harder, or to attract someone bigger, stronger and more magical to be an opponent
It's not that anything goes. The fantasy is to put one or maybe two changes in the culture and see how the stories develop for the characters you have. Who uses magic, and what does it cost? How is it learned? What are the effects? What can be done, and what can't? The most important decision is what difference it makes to the main character and how it helps or hinders him from reaching the goal.
For funny fantasy, parody of the tropes of princesses, fairies, dragons and such are all is easy and fun to write. But the job is still to sketch out the differences in the world, to break into the new normal, and find that twist that lets the character connive or finagle to get out of the difficulty that she is in.

Title: Maven Fairy Godmother: Through the Veil
Series: Maven Fairy Godmother, Book 1

Author: Charlotte Henley Babb
Genre: Fantasy
Publisher: Muse It Up Publishing Company
Pages: 279 / 101k words
Purchase: MuseIt Up | Amazon | Smashwords | B&N |

Book Description:
Maven's new dream job--fairy godmother--presents more problems than she expects when she learns that Faery is on the verge of collapse, and the person who is training her isn't giving her the facts--and may be out to kill her. Will she be able to make all the fractured fairy tales fit together into a happy ending, or will she be eaten by a troll?

A Handsome Prince (Excerpt from Maven Fairy Godmother) 
As she entered the Twilight Lounge, Maven transformed into Biker Trash leather, complete with a tattoo on her shoulder—“Trolls need love too.” The handle of her wand peeked out of the calf of her right boot.

At the bar, Maven straddled a black fatboy motorcycle that rose to the occasion. She didn't question how the Twilight Lounge knew what a motorcycle was.

Belle handed Maven a mug of some golden, frothy liquid without comment on her persona.

“What I wouldn't do for a beer,” Maven sighed after knocking back the mug's contents. She hoped it wasn't hemlock. Belle did not seem pleased to see her.

“What good is it to work in a place where you grant wishes for a living, but you can't get a beer when the job is done?”

“This is Faery, not Heaven,” Belle said, slapping the bar with her polishing rag.

Maven leaned back on her buddy bar and propped her boots on the gas tank. She fished her wand from her boot and held it to her ear to listen for the stories from her clients. She could not get a clear signal.

“Is this seat taken?” A Handsome Prince stood beside Maven. He smiled, sure of himself from his raven coiffure to his velvet-clad tush.

Maven looked up at him, a bit disoriented. “No. Take it.” She pulled herself back together, remembered where she was and how she looked. Whoever or whatever it was taking her away from Vivienne and Daisy, it was not a prince. “Take it somewhere else.”

She sat up and swung her leg over the bike facing away from him. She held the wand to focus back on Vivienne, but now the picture was unclear. The impostor prince blocked the signal.

“You must not be from around here,” The Prince said. “I have never seen anyone like you before.” He sat on a gilded throne.

“Just imaginative,” Maven said. Next time she'd be a harpy or a warthog. She didn't know how close it was to midnight. She didn't have lot of experience being hit on in bars in Mundane, especially not by enchanted un-Princes. “I am just learning how to turn people into frogs.” Maven smiled, but not sweetly. She aimed her wand pointedly. “Would you like to be my first attempt?”

The Prince transformed himself into a large slimy Frog with golden eyes, perched on a lily pad. “So, you like amphibians?”

“I'm all out of wart repellent.” Maven slid off the Harley and strode out of the Twilight Lounge, not stopping to change her garb. Maybe the short walk would let her think in peace.

 About the Author:

Charlotte Babb began writing when she could hold a piece of chalk and scribble her name--although she sometimes mistook ""Chocolate"" for ""Charlotte"" on the sign at the drug store ice cream counter.

When her third-grade teacher allowed her access to the fiction room at the school library, Charlotte discovered Louisa Alcott and Robert Heinlein, an odd marriage of the minds. These two authors have had the most influence on her desire to share her point of view with the world and to explore how the world might be made better. Her current favorites are Terry Pratchett's Discworld and Shelly Adima's Lady of Devices.

In the meantime, Charlotte has fallen prey to steampunk and the gears are turning...corset, bustle and magic, oh my! She brings to any project a number of experiences, including work as a technical writer, washing machine gasket inspector, cloth store associate, girl Friday, and telephone psychic.

She has studied the folk stories of many cultures and wonders what happened to ours.Where the stories are for people over 20 who have survived marriage, divorce, child-rearing, education, bankruptcy, and widowhood?

Charlotte loves Fractured Fairy Tales and writes them for your enjoyment

Author Website | Book Site | Facebook (Author) | Facebook (Book) | Twitter: @charlottebabb |

Friday, December 14, 2012

Huge Giveaway!!

In honor of Danica Winters' soon-to-be-released (December 31, 2012) novel,The Nymph's Labyrinth, we have decided to participate in a huge Giveaway. Prizes include books and giftcards! To take part, please use the Rafflecopter button at the bottom of the page.
The book is available for pre-order now! 
  The Nymph's Labyrinth
Blurb: A world shrouded in mystery and intrigue, the Sisterhood of Epione must not be exposed. 
A Shape-shifting nymph, Ariadne, is tasked with keeping the truth of her group’s existence and their ancient mysteries far out of reach of an American archeologist and his troublemaking son.  When forgotten and forbidden passions are awakened, Ariadne is forced to make a choice—fall in line and continue to be overrun and pushed down by the sisterhood, or follow her heart and put everyone’s lives in danger.
Can Ariadne have the man she loves or will the pressure and secrets of the past keep her from her heart’s desire?
Publication Date: December 31, 2012
Publisher: Crimson Romance
Purchase Link: Amazon
Pages: 300

About the Author:
Danica Winters is a best-selling author who is known for writing award-winning books that grip readers with their ability to drive emotion through suspense and often a touch of magic. When she’s not working, she can be found in the wilds of Montana testing her patience while she tries to understand the allure of various crafts (quilting, pottery and painting are not her thing).  She always believes the cup is neither half-full nor half-empty, but it better be filled with wine.
Her Books:
Love Under the Christmas Tree
A Christmas Miracle
The Vampire’s Hope
Curse of the Wolf
An Angel's Justice

Coming Soon from Danica Winters (2013):
Montana Mustangs (Crimson Romance)
Winter Swans (Crimson Romance)

"The Nymph's Labyrinth by Danica Winters takes you through an edgy, emotionally driven maze full of imaginative characters, unique personalities, and an always creative plot."
-Award-Winning author Pam B. Morris, author of Smitten Image
"Gripping and unusual. Winters draws you into her world and amazing characters from the very first sentence. Well done!"
 -Award-Winning author Casey Dawes, author of California Sunset

"Danica Winters has a real talent for blending the mortal and immortal worlds together in a fascinating blend fo the paranormal.  It was a sexy and fun read from the first to the last page."
-Best-Selling author Jennifer Conner, author of The Reluctant Heir
A Note from Danica Winters:
I want to extend my sincerest thanks to my fans.  Your love and support keep me writing.  The Nymph's Labyrinth is the first book in a three + book series through Crimson Romance and I'm currently almost done writing the second book and outlining the third.  This book (and the series) have a special place in my heart.  As some of you know, I'm a trained archeologist and I used my experiences to help write this book.  I love writing, but I love to get muddy as well! :) 
Researching this book was incredible and all of the historical references in the book are based in historical fact.  Though, I must admit, I took a little artistic license in stitching together the book. 
If you have questions please don't hesitate to leave a comment below.  I will be checking in regularly to read and answer. 
Happy Reading!
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Tuesday, December 11, 2012

The Golden Chalice by Sienna Mynx and Giveaway!

Title: The Golden Chalice
Series: Lee's Girl's Series Book 3
Author: Sienna Mynx
Genre: Interracial Romance,
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Pages: 130
Release Date: 11/6/2012
Purchase: Amazon

Book Description:

The Golden Chalice has been found. But at what price?

Michelle Dixon faith is shattered with the loss of her unborn child. She struggles to remember the reasons why she ever believed life as a jewel thief could ever bring her happiness. The truth is her belief was centered on her love for one man. It’s no longer enough. Though Lee Sullivan has made many mistakes, choosing love over greed isn’t one. Now with his enemies circling he battles the odds for another purpose. Winning back his woman’s heart.

After surviving the depths of Lee’s betrayal of her trust, Michelle decides to play one final hustle. The stakes? The love neither of them thought possible. There remains one problem. Lee won’t lose her. He can’t. Lee knows Michelle plots against him and he understands why. He must race against time and those determined to steal the Chalice in order to salvage what is most important to them both. And he will do it at all costs.

Win or lose, Lee’s fate is hers.

After a shocking turn of events turns their lives inside out Michell and Lee both discover the greatest treasure to be won.

Love. For it conquers all no matter the price.


“What I want is to stop your pain. If I could have my wish it would be…I’d want our child to have lived.” His expression stilled and grew serious.

“Let’s be honest, Lee. Any child you and I have we’d destroy, after we destroyed each other.” She made to move around him and he stepped with her, blocking her pass. “Lee, move.”

“Take it back!” He frowned with cold fury.

Michelle adjusted her smile. “Why?”

“Don’t you ever dismiss our child’s death. Take it back!” he said through clenched teeth.

Michelle, shaken by the threat in his tone, had to lower her gaze. “Okay.”

Lee’s voice dropped an octave when he spoke again. “We lost our baby. It’s my fault. I should have protected you, trusted my instincts.”

“Lee, please stop.”

“I’ll make them pay. I’ll kill ’em all—”

“Stop it, dammit!” Lee blinked at her, confused. “Stop, okay? No more violence. I can’t take it.”

He touched her and she shrugged off his hand. Lee persisted and she was forced into his arms. Soon hers, of their own accord, were circling his waist. He kissed the top of her head. Stroked her hair.

“My first priority is you. I had to make sure you were okay, Michelle. Now that you are we’re starting again. Nothing has changed between us.” He relaxed his hold on her and brushed her cheeks with the backs of his fingers. She tensed over how soothing his touch was. With mild force, Lee grabbed her face in both hands. He brought his forehead down to hers until their skulls met. Michelle winced over the burn it drove through her brow, and gripped his wrist, trying hard to free herself. But his lips covered hers before she could manage the break. A crushingly needy kiss followed. She softened under its weight.

“Forgive me.” He breathed into her mouth, trying to pry her lips apart for another kiss. “Damn it, Michelle, forgive me, baby. Don’t make me beg.”

Michelle lowered her hands from his wrists. The caress of his lips inspired a trickle of love, sparking forbidden desires for him in her heart. What the hell was wrong with her? How could she even stomach the thought of them, together, now? Yet she could. It would be her secret truth. She loved him so badly, the truth hurt. 

About the Author:

Sienna Mynx is your naughty writer of Contemporary, and Historical Interracial Romance. Her tales are for readers that love the bad boys but desire to be the women that tame them. She currently has 22 published books, as an indie author. A current resident of southern Georgia, Sienna Mynx has emerged into the e-publishing scene deciding to take the business by the horns.

She runs her own publishing company The Divas Pen, and works with other indie-authors who want to understand how to self publish responsibly. Sienna has also released a series with Decadent Publishing, and has a paranormal story under Cobblestone Press. Her novels reflect her thirst for romance told from a dark, sensual perspective with the diversity women of all colors crave in Erotic Romance. Look for more to come.

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Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Book Spotlight: Rite of Passage by Kevin V. Symmons

Book Description:
June, 1947, Sebago Lake, Maine. Robert McGregor has the perfect life until he meets Courtney Wellington at a reunion. Courtney is the stuff that dreams are made of: exquisite, vulnerable and desperately alone. But Courtney’s identity is more extraordinary than he could imagine. The 40th in a line of powerful witches, Courtney and her friends have elaborate plans for Robbie. He’s been chosen to wed her in a ceremony foretold a millennia ago. A ceremony to keep humanity from chaos and self-destruction. Though fearful and suspicious, Robbie is drawn to the young beauty. When Courtney is kidnapped by a rogue sect of Druids, she becomes a pawn in a deadly struggle. A struggle that will span the Atlantic, threaten their lives and lead to a confrontation effecting the fate of humanity. Rite of Passage combines classic romance with gripping action. Surprise and deception confront Robbie and companions as they struggle to wrest Courtney from the sinister Druids. Unbridled passion, non-stop action and plot twists will keep you turning pages well into the night.

Title: Rite of Passage
Author: Kevin V. Symmons
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Pages: 278



 “Good evening,” the young woman offered as she entered. I loved her accent. Formal and British, its subtle, delicate quality had elegance. The way she carried herself suggested breeding. She was incredible—part woman, part goddess. Electricity shot through me as her eyes caught mine and held them. My fatigue evaporated.

“My wife’s niece, Courtney Wellington.” Jonathan waved his arm. My wife’s niece. Odd choice of words. Like something out of another time, the young woman curtsied, reminiscent of a scene from Jane Austen. Some of the women returned the gesture. I held my breath, watching. The men let their eyes linger. It was difficult not to. Courtney was something to behold.

She wore a fitted white silk blouse, a dazzling multicolored scarf tied around her neck, and a snug, floor-length navy skirt. A silver pendant peeked from beneath her scarf. As she approached I noticed unusual engraving and a small, dark stone at its center.

“Robert, would you escort Courtney to her seat?” Gretchen gestured toward the far end of the table.

“My pleasure,” I agreed, moving to join her.

“Hello, Robert,” she whispered, eyebrows raised and nodding as she touched my arm. “I am late.” She shook her head, resuming her study of the Tabriz oriental covering the dark walnut floor. “It’s become a tedious habit of late.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Courtney.”

Her lips curled up for a moment. I hoped she might smile but was left in disappointment. The thick, warm air drifted through the open windows, holding the scent of lilacs and roses, competing with the exotic fragrance surrounding Courtney.

We’d spend the evening with men and women of stature. Too much wine spawning tales of the tragedy the last few decades had witnessed. We would hear how they had saved humanity while the world was held captive. I attended the reunion reluctantly, knowing it would give me a chance to see my brother. My father and Jonathan had been best friends. Despite the lack of a blood relationship, we had always been like family. I’d been absent for years. Why this striking young woman was here was a mystery. I promised to find out and make our evening as bearable as possible.

“I’m a friend of the family.”

“Yes, Robert, I know.” She nodded. “I saw you at the pool this afternoon.”

“Really?” I said, wondering how I could have missed her.

She shrugged.

Courtney was spectacular. Tall and slender, her dark brown hair shone, cascading over her shoulders. Her pale skin shown lustrous in the soft light from the chandelier. Large, dark eyes recalled images of a doe. They flanked a perfect, lightly freckled nose.

It began as she took my arm—the excitement, the wonderful, hollow feeling in my stomach. Energy flowed between us with that first touch. Courtney tightened her grip. I followed each graceful stride as she headed to her seat.

“I have no idea how I missed you,” I repeated.

“I can explain.” Her voice was soft and hypnotic. I could have listened to her all night.

“Thank you, Robert,” she offered, inclining her head as she sat down. “I saw you from my
window,” she confessed. “I’m on the second floor.” A smile emerged. It was subtle but radiant, the glow of dawn after a dark night. I glimpsed flawless white teeth. This was no young woman. Courtney was an angel masquerading as Gretchen’s niece.

About the Author:

Kevin Symmons is a writer, college faculty member, and president of one of the Northeast’s most respected writing organizations. His new paranormal novel, Rite of Passage, will keep you turning pages late into the night. His other efforts include Voices, a sweeping women’s fiction work that brings to light the tragic problem of domestic violence in contemporary America. Kevin has also collaborated with award-winning screenwriter and playwright Barry Brodsky who has adapted one of Kevin’s story ideas to the screen. Kevin is currently at work on his next novel, Sanctuary, a romantic thriller set on Cape Cod.

Website | Facebook | Twitter: @KevinSymmons |

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Dream Lovers by D L Richardson

Thank you to Danica at Paranormal Romance Fans for Life for hosting me during my virtual book tour. I hope your readers enjoy this post. This is a humorous insight into what our dreams tells us about our dream lover.

Dream Lovers

You’ve met the paranormal creature of your dreams and he turns out to be a...

 ANDROID      You want a man who can cook and clean 24/7
BIGFOOT       They say big hand means big manhood, well they say the same about big foot
CENTAUR     Admit it, you want your man to be hung like a horse. (Don’t we all). Unlike the unicorn lover, if you dream of a Centaur you also want your hung man to be able to hold a conversation.
DEMON         Sometimes life is too short to be the good girl. You like to play on the wild side and you want someone who can handle the heat.
ELF                You like short green people who make toys. You probably have stuffed animals on your bed. And you like Christmas.
FAERIE          You want a man who wants to go shopping with you for clothes, sparkly things, appliances, doona covers, ooh and shoes.
GHOST          You want your man to disappear when your girlfriends come over to watch DVDs and drink cocktails.
HYBRID         You’re not one to put labels on people and you’re way cool with people loving whomever they wish to love.  
INCUBUS       You want a man who satisfies you when you sleep because you’re too busy working, looking after kids, exercising, writing, and everything else to partake in sex while you’re awake.
JEDI               You want your man to be able to swipe his hand and use his Jedi mind trick to get you into all the best restaurants and nightclubs and skip the long lines at the entrance.
KNIGHT         Self explanatory which sort of man you want in your life, you damsel in distress, you.
LEPRECHAUN           Like the lover of the elf except that you like a man with a funny accent.                      
MUMMY         You’re studying a degree in nursing and want someone to practice on.
NYMPH          You’re not into men or you’re not only into men.
OGRE            Similar to the troll lover, except that you like gentle giants and have a soft spot for ugly men. Maybe you can’t bear to be with a hottie in case he flirts and you go nuts with jealousy.
POLTERGEIST           You like someone who can join you in a good plate throwing fest when you’ve had a bitch of a day at work.
QILIN             A Chinese creature than resembles a dragonish dear, you like your man to be strong on the outside and soft on the inside. 
REAPER        You are a material girl and this man can get you the most powerful gift of all – people’s souls.
SHIFTER       You want a man who can change to suit your current mood.
TROLL           You’re a person who brings home strays because you feel sorry for them.
UNICORN      Like the lover of the Centaur, you want your man to be hung like a horse, and you also want him to be mute so he is incapable of complaining but with his pretty horn he is capable of opening tin cans.
VAMPIRE       You like a man who enjoys nibbling on your neck and takes pride in his appearance
WEREWOLF   You’re an animal lover who wants a man who is in touch with his animalistic side. And if he misbehaves you know he can handle a night in the dog house.
X-MEN           You have a desire to be with a man who is part of a secret organization.
YETI               You like men with long, platinum blond hair, and you’re possibly still in love with any number of 80s rockers.
ZOMBIE          You like a man who can provide for his family in the event that humanity is plagued by disease. All the food runs out, and we have to resort to cannibalism only you’re squeamish about touching meat.
Book Description:
Ethan James, Florida Bowman, and Jake Inala need organ transplants. When they receive the organs of a dead CIA agent, Dylan Black, they take on more than the task of completing the mission of deactivating bombs that threaten millions of lives. Kidnapped, their lives under threat, the memories stored in the CIA agent’s mind begin to awaken within each of them, except the one piece of information they are abducted for - the location of the bombs.
Chapter One
Wednesday, November 9th, Ethan James
AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” blared through the speakers. Apt music considering the weather conditions. Rain pounded the windshield of the Lamborghini. Crushed beneath the noisy rain, the music took a beating, too. I flipped the volume control to the max, drowning out the steady slap of water on the roof.
The dark shroud of night cloaked the striped lines to my left and right. Street signs blasted yellow warnings to drivers to slow down on wet roads. I ignored them.
Instead, I pushed the car to 120 miles per hour. Coming around a curve in the road, I flew up on a van and sharply jerked the wheel to avoid ramming the Lamborghini up its rear end. I owed my life to my quick reflexes.
I drove for another half mile at suicidal speeds, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the guitar riff. Another half mile. Then another. Just when the buzz of the ride plunged to a level of indifference, the car hit a pothole, veered me across three lanes, and like a punch from nowhere, it was game on.
A tsunami-sized wave of water fell from the sky. Momentarily blinded by the useless wipers, I sucked in my breath when two rows of lights cut through the haze. Two white lights on the bottom and six or more yellow ones on top—the bright circles headed straight at me.
Semitrailer. Not good.
Gritting my teeth, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. The truck swerved at the last second, missing killing me by about half that length of time. The driver blasted four long bleats of the horn.
I laughed out loud as I spun around.
I accelerated till the car caught up to its former 120 miles per hour. The chorus kicked in, and I helped with the backing vocals. “Thunder. Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na. Thunder.”
Whether driving under a dome of blue, or a sky darkened by storms like tonight, I liked to push cars to their limit. It didn’t matter what sort of car, but slow cars tended to break apart sooner under extreme pressure. Fast cars handled the punishment of driving at stupid speeds much better.
Speeding made the rush last longer. It filled a void and carried me to a place where I let go of the angst over a waste of a life spent waiting to die of kidney failure. The rush reminded me that seventeen-year-old kids should wish for a professional ice hockey career instead of wishing to still be alive by Christmas.
The song ended, and in that second of silence, my thrill took a dismal nosedive. Images of the hospital I attended every week flickered across my vision. So, I increased the speed. Bad enough the bleak place filled my head and haunted my dreams, but to interrupt my fun—not going to happen.
The next song on the CD kicked in, and it did the trick of hauling me back to the driver’s seat, where I replaced the hospital corridor for a rain-slicked freeway. I figured if I had to die young, I’d do it on my terms. No doubt the doctors would have something to say about this philosophy. If I crashed the car and ended up in the hospital, I’d tell them I reached out to touch life. Better than dwelling on my postpubescent life spent hooked up to a dialysis machine.
I’d probably get pulled over by the cops first, and I couldn’t have that. Aside from speeding, I’d stolen the Lamborghini from a mall parking lot half an hour earlier, and I didn’t have a license.
A crack in my concentration appeared like the lightning bolts streaking the sky. The car drifted into the next lane, and I let it go. A set of lights rushed toward me, and I expertly got the car under control, but at this speed, and despite the car’s sporting capability, the Lamborghini was all over the shot.
Buzzed from pushing the car, I kept going.
At 120 miles per hour, streetlights floated like satiny, white ribbons. The rain-slicked road made it impossible to judge the lines marking the lanes. Curves were hard to anticipate.
Sometimes I oversteered; sometimes I didn’t steer enough and had to yank the wheel to the left or right at the last second. Other drivers blasted their horns. I didn’t care about the rules of the road. Rules were for pussies.
For each minute I survived this suicidal cruise, I’d get two points. So far, I’d accumulated over two hundred. Fifty were up for grabs, if I made it home alive. I had a lot to lose if I crashed the car. I had nothing to lose if I killed myself.
I jumped in surprise when a car came up on my left and honked its horn, whizzing by in a blur of chrome. “I don’t think so, buddy.”
I accelerated. If the cops wanted to stop me, they’d have to use air support. Getting myself on TV only added to the thrill of the chase.
Concern over my reckless driving should have registered, but it didn’t. The speedometer now read 140 miles per hour. AC/DC screeched about “Hells Bells,” and the rain didn’t lessen. If I lost control now, I’d smash into the concrete barriers lining the highway. It’d be game over. No way I’d survive the impact. What a shame this last train of thought wasn’t on whether I’d survive or not, but on whether I’d care.
Lightning bolts exploded across the sky and lit up the windshield. In that brief flicker of visibility, I spotted the plane on fire, blocking the highway—and the spaceship blowing up a bridge with luminous green laser beams. I let go of the wheel, idly watching the Lamborghini plow into the concrete barrier. Metal fragments and orange flames danced in front of me. The sound of something exploding boomed through the speakers. The words GAME OVER flashed across the television screen.
The plane had been okay, but the spaceship insulted me. For sure, the makers of the game reckoned it’d be a hoot to throw unrealistic obstacles in my path.
I tossed the Xbox controller aside and scratched my numb backside. My life couldn’t get any worse…might as well go to school.
* * *
Title: Feedback
Author: D L Richardson
Genre: YA Paranormal
Publisher: Etopia Press
Words: 65,000
Release Date: 10/5/2012
About the Author:
Music first captured the creative interest of D L Richardson. She got her first acoustic guitar at age ten, and in high school she sang with the school band. When she left school she helped form her own rock band where she sang lead vocals, played bass guitar, and wrote all the lyrics. At age 26 she realized she wanted to write novels for the rest of her life, or die trying, so she sold her equipment, quit pursuing a music career and began writing instead. She currently lives in Australia on the NSW South Coast with her husband and dog. When she’s not writing or reading she can be found practicing her piano, playing the guitar or walking the dog.