Page Turning Books

Death’s Servant – C.J. Ellisson

Amazon Kindle US

Amazon Kindle UK

Genre – Urban Fantasy

Rating – R

4.9 (77 reviews)

Free until 31 December 2013

Jonathan Winchester has clashed with his alpha one too many times. After another argument he leaves the Manitoba pack, his only home since the werewolf attack that changed his life. He returns to his home state of Virginia to start a new life free of pack politics. Jon finds work and meets a young waitress, Raine, who appears to be a lone werewolf, too.
As their relationship progresses, Jon's embroiled in more intrigue than he bargained for and a danger bigger than he can handle. He's running scared until his own alpha tendencies surface, making him unable to leave the pretty werewolf's problems behind. The young man is desperate to save Raine--even if his efforts may lead him straight to death.
Journey along in this first prequel novel involving the favorite characters from the bestselling V V Inn series. Written at reader demand, this stand-alone story explains how the beloved Jonathan came to serve the deadly redheaded vampire, Dria.

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Chapter 1

“Jason, wake up” I yelled for the hundredth time. For the hundredth and one time he stirred in the bed mumbling, “Five more minutes.” He had stayed up Thursday night to watch Friday the 13th, Part Six. When I told him to cut off his new television at 12:00 am because he had an appointment with his probation officer at 9:00 am, he mumbled as the masked Jason on television cut up some poor white woman after having her screaming and running for ten minutes, “Five more minutes.” Jason was famous for his five more minutes. Mama said that he was born five days late and he’d probably be late for his own funeral. But I was determined that I wasn’t going to be late for school this morning. So, after I turned the slab bacon strips in the frying pan, I politely went into the refrigerator and took out the pitcher of cold water and threw it on him. He gave a yell which woke up Mama and I’m sure a few dead people. Mama came out of our bedroom running and screaming, “What’s the matter, Jay?” That’s what she calls him. Jay, which is short for jaybird cause he ain’t got much sense. He is nineteen and six feet two, which means he’s too old to be whining over a little cold water.

“Why you do that to him, Loresha?”

“Cause she’s crazy, Mama.” He used his pointer to circle his head.

I went into the kitchen and started beating two eggs for my breakfast. Me crazy? I didn’t steal a bucket of subway tokens from a subway station and then try to sell them outside the same station. He’s the one that has to appear in court every month to show that he’s making progress in a GED program and working for PAL as a youth aide. I go to regular school. I’m in the eleventh grade. I ain’t got to report to anyone except Mama Police.

Mama Police entered the kitchen and picked up a slice of bacon. She slammed the cabinet door after pulling down a cup. I didn’t say anything to her. I knew she didn’t want me to remind her that her job interview was at ten o’clock. I just scraped my eggs onto my plate because the look on her face said that she was not in a friendly mood. The faucet water thundered into the coffee pot.

“Why must everyone wake when you wake up, Loresha?”

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Genre – Young Adult

Rating – PG

More details about the book

Connect with Brenda Faye Collie via email

Website http://www.daylightbooks.net/#!

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Pirate Trials: Hung by the Neck Until Dead – Ken Rossignol

Amazon Kindle US

Amazon Kindle UK

Genre – Non Fiction

Rating – PG

2.5 (2 reviews)

Free until 31 August 2013

Second in the series of Pirate Trials from news reports of the days and actual trial documents. NOTE: This is not a pirate romance novel or a Johnny Depp adventure of fantasy and make believe, but the details and drama from first person confessions and details of the charges against real pirates. This is not Hollywood. The real words of one pirate issued to a crowd who were waiting for his execution with his admontion to others to avoid the temptations brought on by hard liquor might be a little too much for some souls.  Parental guidance is the way to go for children and some adults need to avoid the tedious drama of this non-fiction and retreat to the safe haven of romance novels with pirates who are simply "hung" and not "hanged".
Join this bloodthirsty crew of pirates on ships which includes the dying declarations of the most brutal and vicious deeds ever set upon innocent civilians and merchant ship crews. The Demon Rum is cited as the chief cause by one pirate for his awful and murderous acts. Their day of reckoning came when they faced their final day of judgement when captured in Spain.
When a crew of passengers leapt from their disguise to overpower a steamship after it left New York on a trip to Portland, Maine, the pirates claimed the ship in the name of the Confederacy, at the height of the Civil War! Learn what happened to the ship and the pirates.

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Ruined is a New Adult novel full of romance, angst and tons of emotion!

Willow Blake has a secret. A big one. And when she and her mother move cross country to protect that secret, her guard is up to protect her heart.

When she meets handsome Reed Miller, she feels her walls start tumbling down and the fear is overwhelming. If he finds out her secret, will he hate her forever?

Just when she thinks things are settling down, a new house guest makes her second guess everything she knows to be true about who she is and what she wants.

Caught between her past life and her new one – and two sexy men – will choose to be alone or fight for her own happiness?

Buy Now @ Amazon @ Barnes & Noble @ Kobo

Genre - New  Adult Romance

Rating – R

More details about the author

Connect with  Rachel Hanna on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://rachelhannaromance.com/

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Part One:  Corr Syl

The Tsaeb Warriors.  In the peaceful Tsaeb civilization, few warriors remain to preserve the ancient knowledge of combat and war.  It is good that warriors persist, for like unworthy thoughts, dangerous individuals and species appear from time to time, and civilization needs its defenders.

History of the Tsaeb.  The Warriors. 
Morgan Silverleaf, Librarian of Wycliff District

Corr Syl

The warrior wiggled his furry toes, scratched an ear, and thought about singing with Ralph and dancing with Allysen last night.  He grinned and rolled out of bed.  As he reached toward his jar of dried fruit and nuts, he sensed the attack and dropped to the floor. 

The assassin came across the smooth stone with quick light steps, his gleaming blade slashing down from right to left.  The warrior had dropped right beneath the cut, and now he leapt forward, drew a short sword, and turned to block the whirling assassin’s rising cut.  As the assassin recoiled from the block, the warrior drew his long sword and attacked in 'two heavens' form, rotating blades beating down the defenses of the backing assassin.  In seconds the warrior stopped, his short sword holding the enemy blade, the edge of his long sword across the imaginary assassin’s neck.

The attack could follow many other paths.  Instead of completing a full spin after the blocked cut, the assassin could have directed his momentum 'over the mountain' onto the warrior's shoulders or skull.  To meet that slower, but stronger maneuver, the warrior might continue his turn into his left quarter, letting his short sword trail into a high block position.  Then he would step in and shove the assassin back, and again use two heavens.  Or . . . .

The instant an attack began, chemical and electrical impulses generated by nodes throughout his body would accelerate the warrior's movements.  Had the assassin been another Tsaeb warrior, the attack would have been complete before the warrior reached his sword.

Corr Syl, the youngest fully-trained warrior of Wycliff District, liked the direct block and the power of two heavens, but he knew that if he drew both swords, his long sword could end the encounter almost instantly.  He grinned, and his long gray whiskers twitched when he thought about the damage the edge-to-edge block by his almost indestructible drahsalleh sword would do to a metal blade.  He added the defense against the assassin's over the mountain maneuver to the collection of tactics in the battle kingdom of his memory world and shifted his thoughts.

Corr's battle kingdom held perfect memories of thousands of encounters, both from real practices with other warriors and from his imagination.  Narrow canyons, waterfalls, caves, and dark woods filled the battle kingdom.  A tendril of Corr's conscious mind often visited and relived favorite encounters.  After Nursery Canyon where Corr had spent his childhood, Corr liked the battle kingdom best. 

Barren lands and seas existing only as outlines covered most of Corr's memory world.  If no mortal attack or accident occurred, the outlines would eventually fill with images, emotions, and thoughts. 

Corr twitched his fur-covered skin, and pulled on his weapons harness.  As he snapped the smooth gray clasp bearing the warrior's insignia, he ended the thread of an old argument that had lost significance.  He had always questioned the value of mental combat exercises involving close-quarters surprise attacks.  No normal assassin, and almost no Tsaeb warriors, could come so close undetected.  But Corr's teacher had insisted that Corr practice such situations at least once every day.  After 13 years and thousands of practices, Corr's complaint had faded.  So he gave it up.  All the warriors Corr knew added a close encounter attack to their other daily exercises.  It must serve a purpose.

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Genre –  Science Fiction

Rating – PG

More details about the author & the book

Connect with Garry Rogers on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://garryrogers.com/

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CHAPTER ONE

March 8, 2012

How did things get so bad? Ok, maybe bad is the wrong word. Maybe it’s just not what I expected. I have a good life, from the outside anyway. Anyone looking in would think I have the picture perfect world. My life makes me think of the song “He Thinks He’ll Keep Her” by Mary Chapin Carpenter. In the song Mary Chapin Carpenter talks about how the wife works to keep things looking picture perfect “spit and polish til it shines,” but she falls out of love maybe because of the monotony of her daily life. Or maybe it’s because she didn’t get much recognition for who she is as a woman and a lover, only as a mom and a wife. I think I’m becoming the girl in the song.

I know things aren’t really that bad. Garrett doesn’t abuse me or cheat on me (at least not that I know of). But we rarely talk anymore. The laughter is gone. It’s been replaced with apathy. Where there was once passion, laughter, and a shared ideal about building a life together, now there is only indifference. The TV is the moderator in our marriage. As long as the TV is on, there are no conflicts. I have to wonder how, with no work being put into our marriage, he thinks he’ll keep me.

I have to admit I’m partly to blame for all of this. I used to be the one to pick fights, to try and draw out what was wrong between us and fix the problems. But I got so tired of feeling like a nag and a shrew so I stopped. It was always up to me fix things between us. Garrett has always been happy to bury his head in the sand and let things go. In our early years, I brought up our problems to Garrett. He used to sit and talk with me. He wanted to look interested in fixing our issues, but things always went back to the way Garrett wanted them. If he wanted to fix things, he would fix them, but if they were my issues things always went back to the way they were before. It was exhausting and unrewarding work, so I stopped. I always hoped, though, Garrett would see how our marriage is becoming empty, and he would want to help fix things before it was too late.

I know things could be so much worse, and I feel like a shrew as I sit here thinking, “OH, woe is me!” So I'll take a break from my pity party and try to focus on the positive. The kids are my positive and my world.

As long as I focus on them, life is more than bearable. The five of them take my breath away when I look at them. I am in awe of what a gorgeous young woman Christina is. At 16 she’s in charge of her world and not afraid to show it. It’s scary to think how confident she is. She’ll do big things in her life. Noelle, sweet little Noelle, with her halo of blond hair, she’s quiet and bookish unless she’s with Andrew. Andrew pulls her out of her shell. His boisterousness is combined with an unrivaled sensitivity. I love seeing them together. And the twins, Amanda and Chandler, crack me up with their bickering banter back and forth. Those two are like a little old couple. I am in heaven when all of them are around.

It’s really only Garrett. He’s the void. The empty space in my life.

If I let my mind wander back in time, my heart hurts. I see a man and a husband who used to think the world of me, but that feeling is disappearing day by day. The joy we shared together is gone. Life is flat. Our marriage is mediocre, at best, and teetering on divorce, at worst. Sometimes I wonder why, if it used to be so good, we let it get the point of being nearly irreparable. But then I remember the hurt, the pain from so many years of unresolved conflicts. I see the lack of trying, on Garrett’s part, to make things better. I feel I always come last with him.

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Genre –  Romantic Suspense

Rating – R (adult language / sexual scenes)

More details about the author & the book

Connect with JD Combs on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.jdcombs.com/

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Chapter 2: Quiet Please, Soccer Game in Progress

Icy temperatures far below normal.  Gale force winds.  Stinging sheets of horizontal rain.  Cascading rivers of mud.  This abnormal change in our spring weather patterns can only mean one thing. Somebody somewhere has scheduled a children’s soccer game.

My daughter had two games this weekend.  Like every game before them -- it rained.  Temperatures never got above 46 degrees unless you were lucky enough to spill coffee in your lap.  I saw two four-year old girls selling shots of Sambucca out of the back of their parent’s Suburban.

In spite of the inclement weather parents were there in force.  This was an end of the season tournament and there were eleven fields, all of them filled with hard charging boys and girls and all of them lined with parents, siblings, spectators, coaches, assistant coaches, and the occasional European trainer, whose ubiquitous cries of “Unlucky!” or “Well done!” in English and Irish accents provided a little extra ambience in a “Tom Brown’s School Days” sort of way.

While my daughter warmed up in preparation of warming up for her game, I took a walk along the line of soccer fields, stopping occasionally to watch the games for a moment or two.   The ages of the children varied, as did the gender and the level of skill but nonetheless a similar pattern emerged and along with it a revelation.  Some adults are just plain nuts.

The screaming, the endless screaming.  “Go!  To goal, to goal!”  “Watch number 3, watch number 3!  Nooooooo!!  I told you to watch number 3!”  “Shoot!  Shoot! Now shoot!  Now, now, now!”  “Take it up the side!  The side, keep going, keep going!” “Sarah’s in the middle, she’s in the middle!  The middle, the middle!  PASS!  PASS!”  “Ohhhhhhh!!!!”

I stood mesmerized by a coach who stalked along the sidelines shouting detailed instructions to his players as if he were a human joystick that could control their physical movements with just the sound of his voice.  “Danny, move left.”  “Dribble right and go, right and go!”  “Take it left and cross.  Cross!  Aahh, for God’s sake!  I said cross!”

Note to all parents and coaches who scream from the sidelines:  Your kids can’t hear a word you say. Want to control your players every move?  Get a foosball table.  As much as you want your kids to score, there are kids on the other team who don’t want them to score.  I’m surprised parents haven’t tried screaming at the kids on the opposing team.  “Hey number 11, stand still and do nothing!” 

I heard a mother offer the following words of encouragement to her daughter as she waited for the second half to begin, “Do it up right.  Make me proud.”  Do it up right?  I was tempted to alert the referee, “Mangled syntax on the field.  Everyone take a knee.”

Can you imagine how parents who shout at their kids at soccer games would fare if they were subjected to the same treatment at work?  Say they’re in the process of admitting an emergency room patient while the boss watches from across the room.  “Not the injury, the insurance card, check the insurance card first! We don’t take United Health anymore.  Oxford, yes! Oxford!  Quick, the copy machine’s free, the machine’s free.  Hurry!   Someone’s coming with a huge file, run!  Run! Keep going!  Oooooh!”

Years ago, I used to play little league baseball.  Most game days, I slid my glove on the handlebars of my bike and rode over to the field by myself.  My teammates did the same thing. Our parents came to watch if they had the time, if they were busy, they didn’t.  Sometimes we won, sometimes we lost.  Sometimes I got a couple of hits and caught a couple of balls and sometimes I didn’t.   Big deal.  It was summertime.

After the game, I’d ride back, put my bike in the garage and walk in the house.  My father would ask me how we did, I’d tell him a little bit about how the game went and that would be it.

Two minutes of conversation at best --and in my mind-- still the perfect length of time to spend discussing any game between a bunch of nine-year-old kids.

*****

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Genre –  Humor

Rating – PG

More details about the author & the book

Connect with John Hartnett on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://monkeybellhop.com/

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