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Currently Browsing: Sunday Snippet
Mar
2

Sunday Snippet: The Medea Complex by Rachel Florence Roberts

Sunday Snippet: The Medea Complex by Rachel Florence Roberts  About the Book The Medea Complex Author:  Rachel Florence Roberts Released:  November 18, 2013 Snippet “Put out your tongue, please, Anne,” the ‘doctor’ says, approaching me slowly. “I don’t want to, you beast,” I say.  I’m really in trouble here. “Anne.  You must show me your tongue.  I am a doctor.” “My tongue is perfectly fine, you fiend.  The only thing wrong with my tongue is that it has to be used to talk with you,” I say.  I close my mouth and purse my lips together tightly. He sighs and looks about him, before making his way over to my bed.  He sits on it and puts his head in his hands. “Yes, you may very well cast your eyes upon the ground, you despicable creature.  How dare you lock a Lady in a cell, and pretend to be a doctor, in order to look upon her tongue?” He moves to pull something out of his pocket, and I move quickly: far to fast for him to catch me. “Anne-” “A-ha! You never imagined this did you, you wobbly eyed fish!”  I am over the other side of the cell now, facing him, brandishing my chamber-pot.  I hold it above my head.  “It is full: stinking, filthy, dirty full, and I shall throw it upon you unless you give me the key.” His puffy fish-eyes wobble a little more, practically standing on stalks out of his face. “I can smell them,” I say.  My arms are starting to ache.  I am malnourished, no doubt, from tepid, thick, nasty porridge. “Smell what?” “Your eyes, you sea-creature.” “My eyes?” “Yes, your eyes.  You horrible, beady eyes.  Fish-eyes.  I should imagine you’d like to cut mine out and make chairs out of them.  I simply refuse to put my tongue out.”  I can hear my own voice, and it sounds slightly hysterical. He starts writing on a long, slender notepad, evidently that which he pulled out o f his pocket before I retrieved my weapon. “Can you stretch out your arms for me instead then, Anne?  Perhaps wiggle your fingers a little?” Whilst I’m holding a chamber-pot?  Either he thinks I am stupid, or he is stupid. “No.  I shan’t do anything you ask of me.  Is that my ransom note?” “No, Anne.  It is-” He is a liar. “It is, I know it is.  Why else would you be writing upon a pad?  I hope that the ink leaks out of your pen, all over your...
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Feb
23

Sunday Snippet: Dark Craving by Veronica Wolff

Sunday Snippet: Dark Craving by Veronica Wolff  About the Book Dark Craving  Author:  Veronica Wolff Publisher:   Self-published Released:  November 17, 2013 REVIEW HERE Snippet I stalk from the bushes.  A shadow moves on the path.  I freeze.  I’d know the curve of those shoulders anywhere. “Bloody hell.”  I’ve only murmured under my breath, but I’m heard. Annelise stops, turns, steps closer. I tear into her the moment she’s within earshot and hiss into the darkness.  “What are you doing here?” Even in the shadows, I sense her recoil.  “Hi to you, too, Ronan.” I take my urumi into my left hand and grab her arm with my right, tugging her back onto the path. “How’d you get back so fast?”  She shuffles close, her side bumping mine.  I experience a stupid, pleased sensation and shove it away again.  “You should be halfway across the island right about now.” “Why, thank you, Ronan,” she says in a voice thick with sarcasm.  “I think I did a great job, too.  It’s all that stuff I learned about the Draug.  They feed on fear, and seeing as I’m not scared of them anymore, they’re not hungry when I’m around.”  She stops walking when I pause to wrap the urumi back around my waist.  “I mean, except for that time I was covered in my own blood.  Being covered in your own blood would make” — she stopped short, tuning into what I was doing– “what the hell is that?” “It’s a weapon,” I say quietly. “Thanks, Sherlock.  I mean what kind?” She tentatively reaches out to touch the blade.  Her fingers brush mine. I clench my jaw.  “Careful.” “Does this… this” –she peers closer — “this most awesome object have anything to do with the fact that we’re whispering?”  At that, she tilts her head up and pins me with her eyes.  She’s closer to me than I realized. I step away, beginning a brisk walk down the path.  “Why are you here?” She falls into step with a sigh.  “I was looking for you.” I raise my eyebrows.  “Why?”  I know I’m being harsher than is necessary, but I’m in uncharted depths. “I told you before,” she says, frowning.  “I have to talk to you.”  A hint of vulnerability edges her voice — a needful thing suggesting she requires me and only me. Or maybe that’s just my wishful thinking. Either way, I have to stop short.  Look down.  Focus on getting the cursed urumi back in place without...
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Feb
16

Sunday Snippet: A Cursed Moon by Cecy Robson

Sunday Snippet: A Cursed Moon by Cecy Robson  About the Book A Cursed Moon  Author:  Cecy Robson Publisher:   Signet Released:  December 3, 2013 REVIEW HERE Snippet I jumped out and ambled toward the blue Colonial.  Mrs. Mancuso, the girls’ elderly neighbor, was sweeping her front steps by the light of her lawn jockey’s lantern, a freak-ass little statue with bright red pants and a lazy eye.  Despite the late hour she brushed her little broom back and forth with quick precise motions, even through any sap could have eaten off of the wooden steps as they were.  She was probably bored, and lonely.  The Wird sisters seemed to be her only form of entertainment. She buttoned the top of her coat to protect her frail body against the cold.  As a were, I’d keep the majority of my strength and reflexes till my dying day.  Little old humans like her didn’t have that luxury.  I grinned with my new set of chompers and winked her way.  “Hey, sex-uh lady.” Mrs. Mancuso smiled and tucked her neck skin into her brown wool scarf.  “Oh, Brendan, you’re such a good boy to flirt with an old lady.”  She furrowed her penciled in brows and glanced over at Celia’s former home sweet home.  “Too good a boy in fact to be hanging out with those Wird girls.” I nodded in agreement.  “Don’t worry, Mrs. M, I’m trying to help them see the light.  I plan to spend the next few hours reading to them from the Bible.  They’ll come around, just leave it to me.” The front door of the Wird house crashed open.  There stood Celia – five-foot-three inches of long lethal muscles in skinny jeans and a tight white long sleeved T-shirt.  The breeze picked up, sweeping her long mane of brown curls around her face.  She pushed her hair out of the way, exposing her narrowing green eyes.  Her supersized hearing had obviously picked up my chat with her not-so-favorite neighbor. I waved.  “Hey, Ceel.  What’s wrong?  Still mad I made you cancel your porn subscription?” It was really hard not to laugh at her reaction.  Celia subscribing to porn was like me joining a Justin Bieber fan club – so not happening.  Her eyes shot open only to narrow further at Mrs. Mancuso’s stiff, reprimanding middle finger. Celia stormed to the edge of her front porch, and while a wide driveway separated both houses, I still caught her golden skin reddening beneath the whitening glare of her porch light....
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Feb
9

Sunday Snippet: The End of the Line by Jim Power

Sunday Snippet: The End of the Line by Jim Power    About the Book The End of the Line  Author:  Jim Power Publisher:   Sweet Cravings Publishing Released:  October 22, 2013 FREE SAMPLE Snippet “Hello.” Latesha said, her heart pounding.  She knew from the beginning that it was him, the white man with the gorgeous eyes and disarming smile.  And she would be talking to this white man, this strange and exotic creature, right in front of her father.  “Forevermore Matchmaking Service,” she noted in a professional tone. “Hello,” said the male voice she instantly recognized. “Hello,” answered Latesha, her voice cracking.  She was not quite sure of what procedure to follow, even though she supposedly had been in business for years.  She sat on the little bench her grandfather had made after the Great War.  “How can I help you?” “I’d like to try your service,” the man said awkwardly.  “Is this a good time?” “Yes, I just came on shift and our whole staff is here to serve you.”  She glanced at her father, who was picking his teeth, and Oprah as she lounged on the back of the couch. “I’ve been neglecting my social life,” Peter admitted. “May I have your name, please?” “Peter Elsworth.” “Hello, Peter.” “Hello,” he answered, still nervous.  “It’s Latesha, isn’t it?” “Yes, Latesha.”  She could clearly see his face in her mind.  “Could you tell me how you found out about the Forevermore Matchmaking Service?” “I saw a poster at the university.  It was near the Student Union Building.” “Are you a student?” “I’m an electrician.” “I see.”  Latesha looked into her father’s eyes, took a deep breath, and then made her pitch.  “Well, sir, for a flat fee of one hundred dollars, we will match you with a potential soul mate.” Mr. Thomas smirked. “Latesha ignored him.  “That’s if you’re ready for a life-altering experience.” “I’d settle for pleasant company,” Peter said with a chuckle.  He paused for several seconds.  “I’ve never called a professional matchmaker before.” “No worry, Peter.  You’re in good hands.”  She leaned back and felt remarkable at ease all of a sudden.  “However, our company is in the process of a major renovation, so for the next little while, I’ll be using my home address.  Is that all right?” “Yes.” “Have you got a pen and paper?”  Latesha asked in a businesslike voice. “Yes.  Go ahead.” “Send a check or money order for one hundred dollars to Latesha Thomas at 14 Beechwood Road.”  She gave him the rest...
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Feb
2

Sunday Snippet: Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel) by Light & Lowell

Sunday Snippet: Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel) by Light & Lowell  About the Book Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel)  Author:  Light & Lowell Publisher:   Self-published Released:  December 20, 2013 Snippet “You know a lot about all of this stuff, don’t you?  I don’t know if I said this already, but thank you.  I’d be more than a little lost without you.  Without your help, I mean,” he corrected. “You’re welcome,” she smiled.  “Most people find it annoying that I’m a bit of a know-it-all.”  Ariahna shrugged like it didn’t bother her. “Well, I’ve been called a box of questions on more than one occasion,” Rome laughed, standing up and placing his hand back in hers.  “Speaking of questions… what’s The Grove?” Before Aria had a chance to answer, she was startled by an old man she’d never seen before.  He was just suddenly standing at her side, and it wasn’t until then that she realized the group had moved on without them.  He had dark, heavily set eyes that seemed to have sunken into his face with age, and several discolored patches marred his skin.  There was something particularly eerie about him that she couldn’t explain. “The Grove,” the man said roughly, “was a sacred place created by the family of the Artisan.  They brought trees from all four corners of the world to bloom and flower into what some would come to call the perfect garden.  It was a place for gatherings, for great spells and rites to be performed; a place to celebrate life, and mourn the loss of the dead.  Magic lived in the very air, in the earth.  Stepping into The Grove was to be saturated in purity, wrapped up in magic and held safe,” he whispered, clenching bony fingers close to his chest.  “It was an Eden.” Aria had grown up learning about The Grove; she’d like to have thought that she knew most all there was to know about it.  But the way this man was speaking… There was something in his tone, a certain wistfulness in his eyes.  He spoke not as if he was reciting something out of a book, but as if he were seeing it.  It was as though he was recalling a treasured old memory.  Everything about him, from his hollow cheeks to his wild silver hair was filling her with dread.  Rome’s thumb brushed soothingly over the back of her palm, and she noticed the man staring at that. “We should probably go catch up with our group…” “You...
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Jan
26

Sunday Snippet: The Wanderers by Jessica Miller

Sunday Snippet: The Wanderers by Jessica Miller  About the Book The Wanderers  Author:  Jessica Miller Publisher:   Amazon Released:  December 6, 2013 Snippet The next night I stayed in and spent time on my home work for Monday.  Josie had a date with one of the boys from the fraternity.  She was definitely making her rounds.  I warned her she was not allowed to bring him back to the room tonight. Around midnight I decided to take a break from my studies and go grab a soda from downstairs since Josie drank the last one and didn’t refill the fridge, again. When I stepped out of my room, some girl nearly knocked me over running down the hall.  She was dressed like Pocahontas and yelling, “Catch me if you can!”  I looked down the hall to see who she was running from and saw Tristan come barreling out of his room. “You can run but you can’t hide,” he called after her. I didn’t know whether to laugh or feel a little disturbed.  He was standing in the middle of the hall wearing only his boxers, a toy gun holster around his hips, and a cowboy hat on his head. I just stared at him speechless.  “What?  You never played cowboys and Indians?” he asked. “Umm… yeah, when I was five, and definitely not in my underwear.” He smiled cockily and said, “My version is much more fun.” “What happened to trying to prove to me you’re a nice guy?  Because so far you’re failing miserably,” I said crossing my arms. “I gave her a head start.  I find that to be very kind on my part,” he smirked. I rolled my eyes.  “You’re… I don’t even know what you are.  There are no words to describe it.” He smiled taking it as a compliment even though that was the exact opposite of what it was meant to be.  “I told you, I have needs,” he said, making me cringe with disgust. “And this is why I will never date you,” I said turning to walk down the hall. He ran up to me and stopped me. “All you have to do is say the word and I’m all yours,” he said looking deep into my eyes, causing me to hold my breath. “Tristan?” the girl called from around the corner.  Tristan’s lips twitched slightly at the corners.  He shot me in the chest with a rubber tipped dart from his toy gun. “Gotcha,” he whispered and turned...
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Jan
19

Sunday Snippets: Hurricane Crimes by Chrys Fey

Sunday Snippets: Hurricane Crimes by Chrys Fey  About the Book Hurricane Crimes  Author:  Chrys Fey Publisher:   The Wild Rose Press Released:  March 5, 2014. Snippet On the television set, which was fighting to stay alive, was breaking news.  She caught bits and pieces of it as she emptied the bowl of blood-tainted water and threw out the cloth.  It was about  a high-speed chase that had occurred about a half-hour ago.  Beth shook her head.  Apparently, Donovan wasn’t the only idiot driving around during a hurricane. She went back into the living room and began replacing all the medical supplies into the first-aid kit.  Behind her, a reporter was explaining that the driver of the car was believed to be a murder suspect. “The name of the –” The lights flashed, prompting Beth to snatch up her flashlight. “Donovan Goldwyn.” Her fingers went cold around the plastic tube as ice frosted her veins.  She straightened her spine and turned stiffly to the television, her heart wasn’t beating in her chest.  On the screen was the picture of the man who was right now changing in her bedroom.  Above it was a caption in bold letters that read – SUSPECT. She gripped the flashlight in her frozen fingers.  Her heart thudded fearfully.  She stared into the immobilized violet eyes through the glass. “Oh my god,” she gasped. She had brought a murderer into her...
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Jan
12

Sunday Snippet: Nightlife by Matthew Quinn Martin

Sunday Snippet: Nightlife by Matthew Quinn Martin  About the Book Nightlife  Author:  Matthew Quinn Martin Publisher:   Pocket Books Released:  October 21, 2013 REVIEW HERE Snippet Beth padded over quietly and took the place against the rail next to him.  She pulled a pint bottle wrapped in a brown paper sleeve from her coat pocket.  Hoping it was his brand, or that he wasn’t picky, she set it within easy reach. The man eyed the bottle suspiciously.  “I said, what you want?” “I want to know why you’re spray-painting those messages.” The man grabbed the bottle, twisted off the plastic cap, and took a deep draught.  “It’s a warning.” “A warning?  A warning of what?” “Can’t you read?”  Another swig.  “The Night Angel.” “The Night Angel?” “Yep.  Question answered.”  He quickly pocketed the bottle and began ambling off.  “Thanks for the hooch, lady.” “Wait!” “Ain’t waiting on you,” he called over his shoulder as he began to dissolve into the moonlit mist.  “Go to the diner you want to get waited on.  Find you a waiter.” Beth rushed to catch up.  Together they went deeper into the shadows of Fort Red Rock.  “But–” “Butnothing!”  He whipped around so fast that they almost collided.  “You come down here.  Down to the fort, talking about the Night Angel.  Bad mojo.  You hear me?” “I hear you.  My friend, she’s missing.”  Beth yanked a flyer from her pocket and thrust it to him.  “You took one of these down.  You kept it.  I saw you do it.” “Maybe I did.”  He plucked the flyer from her hand, holding it almost tenderly as he looked at it.  “What’s that to you?” “I just want to know if you know anything.” “I know this.”  His voice was flat and funereal.  “If the Night Angel came for your friend, she’s not missing.  She’s gone.” “Gone where?” His shoulders went slack.  He tugged out the bottle and took a slug.  “You don’t want to know,” he answered, wiping his lips before taking another swig. “Where is this Night Angel?  What is it?” He quickly looked to either side before drawing closer.  “The Night Angel comes for you… you’ll wish you’d listened when you had the chance.  You hear me?  She’ll mesmerize you.  Make you see what you want to see.” “But aren’t you the one warning everyone?  Isn’t that why you’ve been spray-painting it all over town?” “Yes.  I am.  And I’m warning you to stay away.  You understand me?”  He stood firm.  “It is...
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Jan
5

Sunday Snippet: Hell Bent by Devon Monk

Sunday Snippet: Hell Bent by Devon Monk  About the Book Hell Bent Author:  Devon Monk Publisher:   Roc Released:  November 5, 2013 REVIEW HERE Snippet I bought the boots, the statue, and a pack of cigarettes.  Made my way toward the front of the store.  Passed in front of a stockroom door and noted a guy walking out of it. Walked past him before I heard the click. I turned. Did not expect the Taser in that man’s right hand, nor the gun in his left.  I also didn’t expect the other two guys who strode out of the sporting goods and household paint aisles I called on magic, just as the guy with the guns raised them both and pulled a trigger. Heads or tails.  Would I be shot or electrocuted? Heads said bullets. Before I could raise my hand for a spell, before I could lash out and drain their lives down, someone flipped a switch and a million volts of electricity blew threw me. Huh.  It was tails: electrocution. I came to being dragged away from bright lights and basketballs, and into the stale, cold stockroom. Maybe another door went by.  Then the two guys who had my arms over their shoulders dropped me into a chair. I decided not to let them know I was conscious. They stepped away and a new set of boots came closer. “I know you’re awake, Shamus,” Jeremy said.  “Don’t make me shot you to prove it to my men.” I opened my eyes, tipped my head back.  He wasn’t holding a gun, but the four other guys around me were. Bullets are faster than magic.  Even my magic. “Some reason why you don’t want to face me alone, Jeremy?” I asked.  “That’s an awful lot of firepower for a junkie piece of crap like me, don’t you think?” He was a good five feet away from me, and didn’t come any nearer.  “You have two options here.”  He started like I hadn’t even been talking.  “You either leave town, leave Terric, and leave me the hell alone, or we will kill you.” I rolled a shoulder and wondered if that blast of electricity and the drugs Eli had shot me up with were going to get in the way of me killing this prick.  “Really?” I said.  “Is this how you Black Crane lads take care of your problems?  Threats in department stores?  Does anyone ever fall for that?” Jeremy’s eyes narrowed.  “I could kill you before you took another breath.”...
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Dec
29

Sunday Snippet – Sing for the Dead

Sunday Snippet – Sing for the Dead  About the Book Sing for the Dead Author:  PJ Schnyder Publisher:   Carina Press Released:  November 4, 2013 REVIEW HERE Snippet “I’d best be heading back to headquarters before Maisie decides to call and see if I’ve eaten the two of you.”  Seth took a step toward Sorcha, hands outstretched. A rumbling growl rose up in the room.  Startled, Sorcha stared at Kayden. “The tabby.  Just retrieving the tabby, or Maisie’ll have my hide.”  As reasonable as Seth’s words were, his voice had dropped deeper as well, the words rougher. Sorcha handed over the purring cat before the two men abandoned civility and settled whatever the remaining issue was with violence.  A part of her wailed inside her mind, urging her to hold onto the cat and push the men to bloodshed. No, no, no. They were allies, both dominants.  She would not manipulate them for her pleasure.  But oh, for warm blood to spill… Not that of the walking dead but that of the living. Silence intruded on her thoughts.  The cat had stopped purring.  Both men were watching her.  Her bloodlust had nearly taken over and they must have been able to see it in her eyes, or catch it in her scent. “I need to get back to the gardens.”  Back to where she had room to move, things she could kill. Seth gave her a slow nod.  “I have patrols on the perimeters.  They haven’t been briefed yet about your new status as an ally.  It’d be better for you to wait until tomorrow.” As if she needed him to vouch for her in order to walk where she desired. Kayden took a step toward her and suddenly, the rest of the room phased out of her attention.  Taller than her and more heavily muscled than Seth.  But he moved quickly.  Faster than her?  She wanted to find out. “Staying in might not be a bad idea.  Wouldn’t want to get in a tussle, being allies and all.”  Kayden’s voice was low, mild.  It took a few moments for his words to sink in. No.  It wouldn’t be good to clash with the new allies.  Not when she craved a battlefield so badly and not when the blood of living people excited her so much more than the dead.  After all, the dead didn’t provide much of a challenge besides their sheer drive and numbers. The living fought with skill… and a desire to stay alive. “Sorcha, lass.  You’ll stay with...
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