Excerpts

Eye of the Storm – Part 3

“Nice to meet you, Summer,” Victor echoed my words from earlier, then turned back toward the bar. “Hey, Howe!” He called out, raising his head and his glass in search of the bartender. “Can I get another one of these?”

Curiously, ‘Howe’ was nowhere to be seen. I shrugged, about to use this opportunity to escape my new ‘friend’ and head back to where Debbie and Paul stood to either side of the jukebox trying to choose the next song, when the power went out. Without lighting or sound, the dilapidated old bar was just that. It was pitch black thanks to the shitty weather and the fact that the streetlamp outside the front window had also gone dark. Guess this isn’t just Howe blowing a fuse.

I could hear voices and shuffling even if I couldn’t make anyone out. It wasn’t crowded by any means, this being a Tuesday night, but it wasn’t a big place. Somebody must have bumped into Debbie because she squealed, “Paul, that better have been you!”

“Uhh…” I heard Paul reply.

“Power’s out across the street too,” somebody called, presumably looking out a window, “but it seems to have stopped raining, so there’s that.”

But my attention wasn’t on the bar patrons, it was on Victor. From the sounds of his stool scraping back, he’d stood and if the darker shadow over the bar was any indication, he seemed to be trying to clamber over it. “Howe?” He called out again from somewhere ahead and above me.

I heard a thunk as Victor landed heavily behind the bar, followed by rustling noises. In the background someone said, “Hey, a power outage doesn’t have to ruin the night, I brought my guitar!”

Despite my better judgement, I started forward, feeling for Victor’s stool. I found it with little trouble. It was still warm. Without thinking too hard about what I was about to do, I put my drink down, hoisted myself up onto the still-warm leather seat of the stool, and stood, stepping onto the bar. My foot hit what I presumed to be Victor’s drink. I made a point to avoid it as I let myself down the other side.

“Aha!” Victor proclaimed seconds before a match flared to life in his hands and our eyes met for the briefest of seconds in the sudden illumination. He seemed surprised to see me there. I was simply glad the ruddy light of the single flickering match didn’t allow Victor to make out the embarrassed flush of my cheeks.

“Here,” he shoved the pack of matches in my hands before grabbing another and starting past me. By the time I got a match of my own lit, he was halfway around the inside corner of the L-shaped bar and moving quickly. I hurried to follow.

A door I hadn’t noticed before now was open slightly. Pulling it wider, Victor disappeared into the opening, his body cutting off all view of the match in his hands. Rounding the corner myself, I almost bumped into him where he had stopped on a set of stairs headed downwards. In retrospect, wearing black was a poor choice, Victor, I silently admonished him.

I became aware of a strange sound coming from the darkness below. Halfway between a hum and a rumbly growl, I couldn’t identify it, but the sound unsettled me in way I couldn’t explain. “Howe?” Victor called again, more tentatively this time, I thought.

Silence greeted his call. I mean real silence; whatever that grumbly sound was, it stopped the moment Victor spoke. Against my better judgement, Victor started forward again, lighting a fresh match and raising it high above his head. I made it two steps before my own match burned my fingers, forcing me to shake my hand forcefully to put the fire out. I stuck my fingers in my mouth and looked down, less than eager to face the prospect of burning myself on another match.

My fingers in my mouth were the only thing that kept me from screaming. There on the ground, in a pool of his own blood mingling with the juice from a smashed jar of pickles was the bartender, Howe. His pale green shirt was bloodied and torn, and the gut I’d noticed earlier was missing entirely, having been replaced by a gaping maw, resembling nothing more than a fleshy crater. From that crater rose a field of spikes, like an over-sized porcupine had taken up residence inside the portly man.

“Holy shit!” Victor cursed and flailed wildly, causing his match to go out.

I fought the urge to vomit as he quickly struck another. The initial flare of light glinted off large yellow eyes and as the light settled to its dim brightness I became aware of what I was staring at. Well, not what it was, exactly, only that I was staring at it.

It, was the source of that strange rumbling growl from before and now the sound returned. A warning, low and guttural, it informed me on an instinctual level that I was in danger. Even with shock numbing my mental faculties, I didn’t need the warning. I fled, Victor’s heavy footfalls on the stairs proclaiming that he was trailing after me. Only two steps were needed to take me out of the basement, but they felt like twenty. I cleared the threshold of the door and quickly realized I was trapped by the L-shaped bar I didn’t know my way around.

Victor however, did. He made straight past me for the exit. I started after him, but a blur of motion crossing my vision stopped me.

The creature’s leap was silent. It’s landing wasn’t. Bottles crashed and the wood of the bar groaned as the massive cat-like thing landed on it. Soft guitar music was replaced by a cacophony of screams and curses from the bar patrons as the thing swung its head around, sniffing the air.

I felt a hand grab mine, warm in the darkness. I gasped, but it was only Victor, pulling me away from the scene and toward the back door of the bar. I stumbled along after him and we broke out into the cool, wet night air.

The rain had stopped, but the sky still looked dangerous.

*** Missed Part One, find it here. Part Two is here. If you’d like to read more of this serial, like this post, subscribe and/or leave me a comment!***

 

Eye of the Storm – Part 2

I pushed away from them, trying not to look like I was fleeing, and soon found myself at the opposite end of the L-shaped bar. “What can I get you?” The bartender, a pudgy bearded man with an obvious beer-belly, questioned.    

“Uh, rum and coke,” I said the first drink combination my mind could supply and the man busied himself with the bottles in front of him.  

“It’s on me,” a new voice said to my left and I whipped my head around. “You look like you could use it.”

The man before me was hunched over the bar, his own drink, a straight shot of whiskey over ice by the looks of it sitting on the bar between his elbows. I narrowed my eyes at him, taking in his deliberately mussed mahogany-coloured hair and his matching dark five-o’clock shadow. His black collared shirt, slightly rumpled from wear, gave me the instant impression that he figured himself a ladies man, but was currently a little down on his luck in that regard. Great, so he’s slumming it…

“I can get my own drink, thanks,” I told him, not kindly.

My rum and coke arrived and a blue five dollar bill changed hands. My blue five dollar bill.

“Victor,” he said, before I could walk away.

“Sorry?” I asked, turning back to look at him, not sure I heard him right.

“My name is Victor,” he repeated. “You look like the kind of girl who wouldn’t accept a drink from a stranger. Now you know my name, so we’re no longer strangers.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, noncommittally, lifting my drink to him in salute. “Nice to meet you, Victor.”

Having dealt with the ‘local colour’, I was ready to return to Debbie and Paul, and face the music, but ‘Victor’ felt the need to stop me again. “You never gave me yours.”

I whirled again, more confused than ever. “Gave you my what?”

He smiled, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. So he’s not just dressing well, he’s got money. Or at least, his parents had enough to buy him braces as a kid. I snickered at the thought. “Your name,” he said, smiling wider now, thinking because I was laughing too that we must be sharing some kind of moment or something.

“Summer,” I told him. Certainly telling him my name can’t hurt anything, can it?

********** If you would like me to keep posting more of this story, please leave a comment below. If people keep commenting, I’ll keep writing! Thank you. Also, you can find part 1 here.************

MW Recommends: The Sun God’s Heir by Elliott Baker

You may remember Elliott Baker from his query letter, which we used to show you what a well-written query letter looks like. Well, Elliott is now celebrating the re-release of his novel The Sun God’s Heir: Return and we want to help. So take a look at what Elliott Baker has to offer: 

the-sun-gods-heir_return-book-1-cover

The Sun God’s Heir is a swashbuckling series, set at the end of the seventeenth century in France, Spain and northern Africa. Slavery is a common plague along the European coast and into this wild time, an ancient Egyptian general armed with dark arts has managed to return and re-embody, intent on recreating the reign of terror he began as Pharaoh. René Gilbert must remember his own former lifetime at the feet of Akhenaten to have a chance to defeat Horemheb. A secret sect has waited in Morocco for three thousand years for his arrival.

For three thousand years a hatred burns. In seventeenth century France two souls incarnate, one born the child of a prosperous merchant, the other, determined to continue an incarnation begun long ago.

In ancient Egypt, there were two brothers, disciples of the pharaoh, Akhenaten. When the pharaoh died, the physician took the knowledge given and went to Greece to begin the mystery school. The general made a deal with the priests and became pharaoh. One remembers, one does not.

The year is 1671. René Gilbert’s destiny glints from the blade of a slashing rapier. The only way he can protect those he loves is to regain the power and knowledge of an ancient lifetime. From Bordeaux to Spain to Morocco, René is tested and with each turn of fate he gathers enemies and allies, slowly reclaiming the knowledge and power earned centuries ago. For three thousand years a secret sect has waited in Morocco.

After ages in darkness, Horemheb screams, “I am.” Using every dark art, he manages to maintain the life of the body he has bartered for. Only one life force in the world is powerful enough to allow him to remain within embodiment, perhaps forever. Determined to continue a reign of terror that once made the Nile run red, he grows stronger with each life taken.

Book Information:

Title: The Sun God’s Heir: Return, Book 1
Author Name: Elliott Baker
Genre: Historical Fiction, Fantasy
Release Date: January 2, 2017
Amazon Link:  http://amzn.to/2ivhu4z
Visit the Blogs Participating in the Book Tour: http://saphsbookblog.blogspot.com/2017/02/schedule-book-tour-giveaway-sun-gods.html

Praise for The Sun God’s Heir: Return:

A great read! From the first sword fight I could not put it down. Adventure, romance, action with just the right amount of his history and mysticism. The main character Rene displays all the qualities a true hero should; loyal, smart, humble, and a ferocious warrior all opponents will fear before their end. I could not help but feel fully immersed in the story. One of the best reads I can remember, I am eagerly anticipating the next book in the series!! ~ Jason Battistelli

The Sun God’s Heir is a page turner. The development of the characters made you really care what happens next to each person, good or evil. The descriptions of the ships, homes and countryside transported me into the era and made me feel like I was one of the onlookers or a part of the story itself. The moment I finished I had to have the second book to see what happens next. Fabulous!” ~ Karyn Krause Cumberland, Esquire

The Sun God’s Heir is a fascinating combination of historical period fiction, sci-fi, and political intrigue. Elliott Baker weaves a tale that one would have to be catatonic not to enjoy. The character development ranks among the best I’ve read; truly, by halfway through the book I found myself thinking like Rene (the main character) in my own daily life. This is the sign of mastery of character depth which is so often lacking in contemporary fiction. And the pacing! Rarely does a book seem to move at the speed of a movie without feeling haphazard. I applaud Elliott for pulling that off, as only an experienced screenwriter or playwright could. If you like a quality story that bridges traditional genre boundaries, then the Sun God’s Heir is for you! ~ Joshua Bartlett

Meet the Author:

elliott-baker-photo

Award winning novelist and international playwright Elliott B. Baker grew up in Jacksonville, Florida but has spent the last thirty-five years or so living in sunny New Hampshire. With four musicals and one play published and produced throughout the United States, in New Zealand, Portugal, England, and Canada, Elliott is pleased to offer his first novel, Return, book one of The Sun God’s Heir trilogy. Among his many work experiences, Elliott was a practicing hypnotherapist for seven years. A member of the Authors Guild and the Dramatists Guild, Elliott lives in New Hampshire with his wife Sally Ann.

You can find Elliott at the following places: Website: http://elliottbaker.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElliottBakerAuthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ElliottBaker?lang=en
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8423737

Saphs Book Promotions

 

Giveaway:

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Read an excerpt: 

Chapter One

1668, Bordeaux, France

THREE MEN bled out into the dirt.

René stared at the hand that held the bloody rapier. His hand. Tremors shuddered through his body and down his arm. Droplets of blood sprayed the air and joined the carmine puddles that seeped into the sun-baked earth. He closed his eyes and commanded the muscles that grasped the rapier to release their tension and allow the sword to drop.

Years of daily practice and pain refused his mind’s order much as they had refused to spare the lives of three men. The heady exultation that filled him during the seconds of the fight drained away and left him empty, a vessel devoid of meaning. He staggered toward an old oak and leaned against its rough bark. Bent over, with one hand braced on the tree, he retched. And again. Still, the sword remained in his hand.

A cloud shuttered the sun. Distant thunder brushed his awareness and then faded. Rain. The mundane thought coasted through his mind. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and glanced down hoping to see a different tableau. No, death remained death, the only movement, that of flies attracted to a new ocean of sustenance.

The summer heat lifted the acrid blood-rust smell and forced him to turn his head away. Before him stretched a different world from the one in which he had awakened. No compass points. No maps. No tomorrow.

The Maestro.

The mere thought of his fencing master filled him with both reassurance and dread. René slid the rapier into the one place his training permitted, its scabbard. He walked over to where the huge black stallion stamped his impatience, and pulled himself into the saddle.

Some impulse caused him to turn his head one last time. The sunlight that surrounded the men flickered like a candle in the wind, and the air was filled with a loud buzzing sound. Although still posed in identical postures of death, three different men now stared sightless.

Their skin was darker than the leather tanned sailors. Each wore a short linen kilt of some kind that left their upper bodies naked. As strange as the men appeared, their weapons were what drew René’s eye. The swords were archaic; sickle shaped and appeared to be forged of bronze. These men wore different faces and yet their eyes—somehow he knew they were the same sailors he had just killed. René blinked and there before him the original three men lay unmoved. Dead.

For an instant his mind balked, darkness encircled the edges of his vision.

Do not anticipate meaning. The Maestro’s voice echoed in his head. Meaning may be ignored, but it cannot be hurried.

 

 

Eye of the Storm, Part 1

Remember that opening I shared as an example of how openings are hard to write? (You can read about that here.) Well, with two books currently in the works, I have no plans to do anything about the sci-fi novella I started, so… I thought I would share it with you. If you like this opening bit, let me know in the comments below and I’ll keep posting every week or two so you can see where this story goes (and keep me motivated in writing it at the same time!)

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Chapter 1 – The Rain

The change came without warning, unless you count the rain. It pounded on the window of my battered Oldsmobile, demanding to be let in. I sighed, frustrated. So much for the Weather Network. Wrenching the rusted driver’s side door open, I was drenched in seconds. I scurried across the city parking lot, doing my damndest to avoid the worst of the puddles, though it hardly mattered now. The damage was done.

Inside the bar, the lighting was dim and yellow. Even so, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

“Summer!” Debbie ambushed me before I could so much as shake myself off like a dog after a swim. Her dry hair smelled like strawberries and stranded me somewhere between envious and nauseated. “You came!”

“Of course,” I mumbled. “You said it was important.”

Nodding, Debbie pulled back. “Come on. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

This is it, I realized, I’m finally going to meet the new boyfriend Debbie has been going on and on about. Despite this guy being the subject matter of all our conversations over the past few weeks, I really knew very little about him. I think she said his name was Paul…

“Well, if it isn’t Summer Green!”

Wait… Paul? As in Paul Sheffield? It was him, in the flesh. The very, very attractive flesh. Oh, god, what am I thinking. He’s Debbie’s boyfriend now… Not my highschool fantasy crush.

“Paul!” I didn’t manage much more than awkwardly saying his name before my nerves shut down my vocal cords. Leaning on a barstool, his elbow up on the bar, Paul was as drool-worthy as he’d ever been. Maybe more so. It had been years since I last saw him, but I remembered the day clearly. It had played in my mind over and over again to remind me of just how pathetic I was. Our last of of high school, Paul had left his group of much cooler friends to come over and give me a goodbye hug and I was so shocked I’d garbled any useful words that could have come out of my mouth in that instant. He’d walked away, a confused and sympathetic expression on his face and I just waved awkwardly and let him leave, instead of being suave and asking him to hang out over the summer like I’d planned.

In my fantasy, that summer would have led to a fabulous romance. In reality, I spent that summer working in a greasy 50’s themed diner, which was where I’d met Debbie. We were as opposite as people get, but somewhere along the line we became inseparable.

Speaking of Debbie, she’d managed to fit herself under Paul’s muscular right arm, her thin frame fitting far better there than my plumper one could have managed. She was looking up into his clear blue eyes, her own green ones twinkling. My slight envy from earlier came back with the same ferocity as the storm raging outside the building, developing into full blown jealousy.

“Paul and I are getting married!” Debbie exclaimed, looking to me for my reaction.

My eyes widened and my breathing became laboured. Face with them both and their sickening perfection, I suddenly became very much aware of my bedraggled and water-logged appearance. The nice white top I’d chosen for a night out with Debbie had been soaked through and was likely showing off my breasts, not to advantage like I’d planned, but more in an indecent sort of way. And my jeans, once form-fitting in a comfortable sort of way now just stuck to me in places where I’d rather they didn’t. I took a subconscious step back from the scene before me, wanting to be anywhere but here, but was stopped by a combination of the squashing sound my sneakers made and Debbie’s sudden frown as she began to realize I didn’t share her elation.

“That’s…great…” I tried to save face and failed.

Debbie pouted. “I know it seems unexpected and sudden,” she allowed, “but it makes sense when you think about it. Paul’s a dual citizen and is living and working in Michigan. If I want to be able to move in with him, we’ve got to get married. It’s just part of the immigration process.”

Whoa, immigrating? ‘Just part of the process…?’ I know Debbie moves fast, but holy hell.

I kept my thoughts to myself. “No, I’m sorry, I’m happy for you. I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”

Debbie beamed, assuaged. Paul smiled, that oh-so-cute lopsided smile of his that used to make me weak in the knees. Now it just made my stomach do uncomfortable flip-flops. “I get it,” he said. “You’re Debbie’s best friend, so it would stand to reason that you’d want to get to know the man she’s going to marry. Lucky for us, you and I go way back.”

“Yeah, lucky…” I mumbled. “If you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to go get myself a drink.”

***

Let me know in the comments below if you’d like me to continue sharing this story and if I get enough comments, I’ll put part two up on Thursday, next week! Thanks for reading.

The Many Worlds of Mirror World Publishing

As you may or may not be aware, we offer a membership program. For just $19.95 a year, members get unlimited access to our ever growing collection of ebooks, early access to new releases, a discount on paperbacks ordered from our store, and SO MUCH MORE…

Not sure yet if you want to join? Well, we also offer FREE SAMPLES of our books in each age category. Order a free sampler through our store and we’ll send you an ebook that contains the first chapter of each of the books listed in a given category AND we’ve thrown a bonus short story into each one! Here’re the links:

 Kids                                           Young Adult                                          Adult

At Mirror World, we’re all about the setting, so here’s a glimpse into a few of the worlds you can visit within our books:disenchanted-2 copy

  1. Historic Wethersfield, CT

The small tourist town of Wethersfield, Connecticut is the setting of Leigh Goff’s Disenchanted. Filled with magic spells, witches, curses, ancient family heirlooms and haunting prophecies, Wethersfield is the perfect place for the occult enthusiast. Oh, and don’t forget to stop and smell the flowers in Sophie’s aunt’s garden, or sample some of her fantastic home cooking.Cover SDOD4

 
2. The Kingdom of Dorlith

Elizabeth J.M. Walker’s She Dreamed of Dragons is set in the magical kingdom of Dorlith. Dorlith is home to magic-users of all kinds and cats. Lots of cats. Enroll yourself in Mage Academy, or dance your way to the palace and sign up to compete in the Royal Tourney. Either way, you’ll have a blast, learn a lot, and maybe, just maybe, end up the next heir to the throne!

 

3. Crimson Winter

Officially the planet has no name, but the desert world of the Crimson Winter Trilogy, by yours truly, is certainly a unique place to visit if I do say so myself. Accessible only through the magic of the gods, this planet has gone eight hundred years without seeing the setting of the sun. Water is scarce, and so is shelter, with the majority of the population, the self-named, Roughlanders, living in ancient military outposts and surviving by means of trade caravans from Taiyou, one of the few remaining fertile areas.

ncbook4. Neo Central

A look into the city of the future! In the world of Neo Central, again by yours truly, only one city remains after the collapse of modern society. This city is a marvel of technology and magic, but it isn’t meant for everyone. Those who can’t feel the city’s current and access the magic it uses to run itself are treated as outcasts and left to live in the ancient ruins of York Slums, or in the dangerous catacombs beneath the city; the Tunnels.

 
Thanks for reading!

It’s Launch Day! The Time Traveller’s Resort and Museum is here!

Written by David McLain and illustrated by Felix Eddy, The Time Traveller’s Resort and Museum is really a marvel. It’s our longest and biggest book yet, fully illustrated, and it somehow manages to dip it toes into every genre that we publish. It’s not just a time travel novel, it’s got elements of fantasy, science fiction, romance, adventure, and best of all, comedy. It’s an ambitious, far reaching tale that spans the history of time itself from somewhere in the ice age to San Tiempo, an island out of time.

We’ve created an ebook version, a paperback version, and a hardcover version of this book, so whichever is your preferred method of reading, I encourage you to pick this book up and give it a try. You won’t be disappointed. coverimagettrm

Title: The Time Traveller’s Resort and Museum

Author Name: David McLain

Illustrator: Felix Eddy

Genre(s): Time Travel, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Adventure, Romance, Comedy, Steampunk

Release Date: November 17, 2016

Publisher:  Mirror World Publishing

(http://www.mirrorworldpublishing.com/)

Saphs Book Promotions Follow the Tour:

http://saphsbookblog.blogspot.com/2016/11/book-tour-schedule-time-travellers.html

 

About The Time Traveller’s Resort and Museum:

 “If you need to know men’s secrets

Or if there’s something you need to find 

If you want to see the dinosaurs 

Or the insides of your mind.

If you want to watch the earth begin,

Or see what the apocalypse will leave behind,

You need to thank Alice Anderson,

For Alice is the mother of time.”

That was how the rhyme went. Every time traveler knew it. Everyone that is, except of course, for Alice herself, since she hadn’t invented time travel yet. Since returning to London, Alice’s life has been turned upside down. She’s been accused of murder and lost her position in the scientific community. Her only ally in this journey is a strange man who seems to think that Alice may be about to open up a strange new world of possibilities, but is probably not telling her everything he knows.

 

Read an Excerpt:

xtra-somethingfortheback“Hello,” Alice said, with a certain degree of reluctant enthusiasm.

“You sound American,” an annoyed voice on the other end of the line said.

Alice dropped her bag. “I’ve been in New York for three years,” Alice said. “You’re lucky I don’t sound like I’m from the Bronx.”

It was Alice’s sister, Wendy, giving what by her standards was a remarkably warm and friendly greeting. “You’re lucky I don’t steal your passport while you’re here and force you to teach Electrical Engineering at the University of the Orkneys. Electrical Engineering, that’s what you do, isn’t it?”

“You do realize that I just spent an entire evening in a metal tube, sitting on a very small seat that appeared to have been made from rocks confiscated from terrorists at security?”

“Terrorists use rocks these days?”

“Well, they’re harder to spot going through metal detectors, aren’t they?”

Ending a sentence with a question apparently sounded appropriately British and Wendy seemed to ease up a little.

“How was the flight, then?” she asked.

“I believe I aged three years,” Alice answered, looking for the way to the exit. “Do you want to have a drink?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“In America, it’s considered polite to ask.”

“I believe that the University of the Orkneys has early tenure.”

Wendy took pride in her absolute loathing of all things American. She saw Alice’s decampment to New York as nothing less than a complete betrayal.

“Would you mind if we met in at my hotel?” Alice asked, trying to sound as if this were a polite request and not a desperate plea.

“I don’t know,” Wendy said. “There aren’t going to be a lot of randy outer-space types there, are there?”

“It’s an astronomy conference,” Alice insisted. “Not a Sci-Fi convention.”

There was the unmistakable sound of pursing lips on the other end of the phone. “What hotel are you staying at?” Wendy asked.

“The Kensington.”

Wendy thought about it. “I’ll meet you, but let’s meet somewhere else. There’s a pub down that way that I’ve had my eye on.”

“Wendy–”

“I have to drive in all the way from Brixton. You can walk a hundred metres out of the hotel lobby.”

Alice sighed. She decided not to point out that in fact she had come quite a bit farther than hundred meters. “What’s the name of the place?” she asked.

“The Gristle and Thorn,” Wendy said.

Alice spotted the word “EXIT” on the far side of the hall. “Couldn’t find any place with a ghastlier name? Was the ‘Skull and Crossbones’ already booked?”

“Just meet me,” Wendy insisted, and for a moment, she did her best to sound kind. “I’ve missed you.”

It has been said that all journeys begin with a single step, and while it might seem that Alice’s journey began all the way back at JFK, in actuality the first step of Alice’s journey began with a decision. It was not a big decision, not the kind of thing that would strike a historian as a significant chapter in the decline and fall of the Western Empire, but for Alice Anderson, it was the equivalent of crossing the Rubicon. It was the simplest thing really – a choice of restaurants.

“The Gristle and Thorn it is,” Alice said, picking up her bag again and shuffling through the crowd.14731184_1306675979395903_3666018888957435109_n

Meet the Author and Illustrator:

bio

David McLain is the author of the two novels: Dragonbait, and The Life of a Thief. His stories have been published in the anthologies Metastasis, Penny Dread II, and the Doctor Who Anthology Time Shadows, as well as over two dozen magazines. He has been featured on NPR’s Off the Page and the History of England podcast. He lives in New York.

Felix Eddy graduated Magnum Cum Laude from Alfred University. She is the author and illustrator of A Bestiary Alphabet, and has illustrated several book covers and children’s books. You can find out more about her at www.felixeddy.com

Connect with David McLain:

Website: http://mydogisgross.tumblr.com/

Linked In: https://www.linkedin.com/in/david-mclain-63b77963

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/DavidMcLainDragonbait/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5814869.David_McLain

Publisher’s Website: www.mirrorworldpublishing.com/our-authors-2

 

Purchase Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING:

Paperback: http://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/collections/poetry/products/the-time-travellers-resort-and-museum-paperback

Ebook : http://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/collections/poetry/products/the-time-travellers-resort-and-museum-ebook

Hardcover: http://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/collections/poetry/products/the-time-travellers-resort-and-museum-hardcover

AMAZON.COM:

http://amzn.to/2eT8hRT

AMAZON.CA:

https://www.amazon.ca/Time-Travellers-Resort-Museum-ebook/dp/B01M66TQZV/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1477600719&sr=8-1&keywords=david+mclain

KOBO:

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-time-traveller-s-resort-and-museum

BARNES & NOBLE:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1124986783?ean=9781987976243

Chapters.Indigo:

https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/the-time-travellers-resort-and/9781987976229-item.html?ikwid=David+McLain&ikwsec=Home&ikwidx=3

The Laws of Time Travel

As you no doubt already know, The Time Traveller’s Resort and Museum by David McLain and Felix Eddy is our featured book this month. That means, you get $3 OFF any version of this book in our store with the promo code: FEATURE during the month of November.

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What you may not know is how time travel works in David McLain’s world. So, I’m here to give you a lesson in “the theoretical parameters of multidimensional space time with regard to fictional realism.” Don’t worry, it will all make sense when you read the book!

First, The Five Basic Laws of Time, as used in The Time Traveller’s Resort and Museum:coverimagettrm

Everything written is real.

You cannot break the laws of physics.

The past has passed.

The present always rolls forward.

The future is unwritten.

 The rest you can figure out yourself.

 -D.E.M.

Now, an excerpt from The Time Traveller’s Resort and Museum on the subject of theoretical physics:

Once, in the distant memory of his youth, Malcolm Oliver had had an argument with his high school physics teacher. Teaching Malcolm physics was one of those lucky draws in the same way that being Muhammad Ali’s sparring partner was an incredible opportunity, so the argument was probably more or less inevitable. The argument concerned the universe, and how many dimensions of time and space we live in. The teacher (who apparently thought that Einstein was some kind of upstart whose theories were akin to pop music and movies starring teenagers who aren’t wearing underpants) was telling the class how even though it seemed as though we live in three dimensions, we actually lived in four, the first three being the dimensions of space, and the fourth being time. The instructor went on to point out, rather smugly, that although all objects move forward through time, it was only the creatures on this planet who really experience it, which was one of the things that made the Earth special. Malcolm, who knew perfectly well that the universe consisted of more dimensions than men could ever count, tried to at least bring the teacher into the twentieth century by pointing out that we don’t live in four dimensions, but six.

“How do you mean?” the teacher asked.

“Consider, a road,” Malcolm suggested. “You’re travelling down a highway and you come to a fork. As it happens, one path leads to fame and fortune and the other path leads to certain destruction.”

“All right,” the teacher said.

“Well, as it happens, you happen to take the right path, the one that leads to all the good things in life. Good for you, but that doesn’t mean that the other path isn’t there. It just means that you don’t perceive it, and the consequences that it entails.”

“So?” the teacher said.

“The fifth dimension,” Malcolm said, “is choice.”

There was tension in the air that was broken by one of the students shouting out. “What do you think the sixth dimension is, then?”

“Now consider all of the roads,” Malcolm suggested. “All of the roads that you won’t turn down. All of the roads you will never see. All of the roads that have never been made, but someday will be. They all exist. They’re all out there. The consequences of you going down them would be the same, whether you go down them or not.”

“The sixth dimension,” Malcolm explained, “is imagination.”

The teacher responded to this by moving on to a lecture about the laws of electromagnetism and giving Malcolm a D minus, which he judged as proof that Malcolm would never make it through Oxford. Malcolm, in turn, would eventually react to this by tearing through Newtonian physics with a wrecking ball.

Thanks for reading and I hope you consider pre-ordering your copy of The Time Traveller’s Resort and Museum written by David McLain and illustrated by Felix Eddy! 

We’re all about Time Travel!

Next month, we’re releasing The Time Traveller’s Resort and Museum by David McLain. More on that here.

But, if you haven’t picked up one of Sharon Ledwith’s Last Timekeepers books yet, this is your last chance to pick them up while they are still ON SALE this October. You have until Monday to head to our store, select which Timekeeper tale you want and punch in the promo code: FEATURE at check out to get $3.oo OFF. What are you waiting for? Go! http://www.mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com 

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To help you decide, here’s an excerpt from our newest release, The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret, book 2 in The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Series by Sharon Ledwith.

Laughter from across the field infiltrated his thoughts. Jordan glanced up to see a group of boys tossing a football back and forth. On the scoreboard above a new set of bleachers sat a turkey vulture, perusing the green. It spread its wings, stretching them to welcome the sun, and then took off into the sky toward the line of tall trees. Jordan turned his attention back to the acorn. It’s still hard to believe time travel is even possible. He plucked up the acorn and stood. He let it roll around on his palm. “Guess you can’t imagine being a mighty oak a hundred years from now, can you?”

Jordan grunted. He was wasting too much time with trivial thoughts. He tossed the acorn aside, set his jaw, and then squatted between the white lines on the green track. A large, light blue stone on the end of a copper-colored necklace around Jordan’s neck rolled out from under his T-shirt and clipped him under his chin, reminding him once again of his responsibilities as a Timekeeper.  His necklace was the same as those worn by the rest of the Timekeepers. Lilith called them Babel necklaces. They allowed the wearer to communicate in any language and also conveniently let Lilith summon the Timekeepers to the Arch of Atlantis when she needed them for a mission.

Jordan stuffed his Babel back underneath his shirt. He looked forward and cleared his mind. Immediately, Coach clicked on in his head. You have what it takes inside of you to remove any barriers that will confront you.

Jordan nodded. The voice he had dubbed Coach had always been a part of him, and there for him, ever since he could remember. In a way, Coach was his form of discipline, personal trainer and mentor wrapped into one. It was probably also the reason he was so awesome at sports. Jordan  listened and focused before making his play.

“Got it, Coach,” Jordan said aloud. Then he did a mental count. Ready, set—

“Who ya talking to, Jockstrap?”

Jordan stumbled. He shook his head and looked up. Amanda Sault was standing on the sideline, close to the bleachers, her brown eyes staring at him. He’d been tagged ‘Jockstrap’ by Amanda ever since their first Timekeeper mission.

He sighed heavily and waved her off. “No one. I was just giving myself a pep talk.”

“If you say so—” Amanda stifled a giggle “—Coach.”

Jordan’s ears burned. He stood, brushed his blue track pants off, and pulled down his white T-shirt printed with White Pines’ wolf logo. “What are you doing here?”

“I was taking a shortcut through the field,” she replied, shrugging. “Is that a crime?”

Jordan opened his mouth, but was abruptly cut off by Amanda squealing, “OMG! What a beautiful acorn!” She picked it up. “I’ve never seen one this big before.”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “It’s an acorn. Get over yourself.”

Amanda scowled. “Don’t you ever notice the beauty nature has to offer?”

He shrugged. “Only when I’m running, sliding, or tackling across it.”

“My grandmother taught me a lot about the signs and symbols of nature over the summer when I was staying with her at the reservation and this”—she held up the acorn— “is a sign of great self-potential.”

“Then you keep it.” Jordan smirked. “You’re gonna need all the help you can get with your grades this year.”

Amanda’s eyes widened. Her long, chestnut hair was pulled back into a single braid as usual, but there was something different about her. Jordan couldn’t immediately figure it out. She wore faded jeans and a pink T-shirt underneath a jean jacket with deep pockets and her blue nylon knapsack was slung over one shoulder. Her Babel necklace was partially visible around her neck, but like his, the rest of it remained hidden. A pair of brand-name running shoes—white with pink laces—caught his eye. That’s it! Jordan nodded. It’s gotta be the new shoes.

Amanda stuffed the acorn in her pocket, then advanced on Jordan. She poked him in the stomach. “What’s your problem, Jockstrap? Three weeks into school and barely a ‘hi’ comes out of your mouth when we see each other in the hallways or in class. Have you forgotten that we’re Timekeepers together?”

How could I forget? Jordan snorted. “My world doesn’t revolve around you or the others,” he replied, rubbing his belly. “Besides, I’ve been too busy playing—” He stopped. Now Jordan knew what was different about Amanda. “Are…are you wearing make-up?”

Amanda’s bronze skin deepened to a reddish hue. “Um, yeah. So?”

Jordan laughed. “Who is he?”

Amanda frowned. “Who is who?”

“The guy you’re wearing make-up for,” Jordan replied. “Oh wait, is it that geek in English class? Or, I know, the dork in math class, the one who keeps helping you out.”

Amanda shoved him. “I’m wearing it for me! It was a gift from Treena for my birthday. You know, the other day, when Melody invited you over for cake?”

Jordan’s jaw dropped. “That was for your birthday? Oh, um, sorry Amanda, but I…I had football practice. I couldn’t ditch that.”

“And I thought you were a team player,” she said, stepping back. “It’s all about you, Jordan. That’s your life motto. That’s who your world revolves around. You could have shown your face after football practice.”

“Whoa, that’s not fair,” he replied, raking his fingers through his tawny hair. “I have obligations. I have responsibilities. You don’t get it.”

Thanks for reading! If you want to keep going, pick up this book in our store, or wherever you buy books, like Amazon.com 

It’s Release Day! The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret by Sharon Ledwith

If you’re a fan of Sharon Ledwith’s The Last Timekeepers, then this is a day you’ve long been waiting for. The sequel is here. The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret is book 2 in the series and the Timekeepers are back together. This time, for an adventure in Amsterdam in 1942. Read on to learn more about this thrilling time travel adventure!

Only a true hero can shine the light in humanity’s darkest time.

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Book Details:

Title: The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret

Series:  The Last Timekeepers, Book 2

Author Name: Sharon Ledwith

Genre(s): Middle Grade, Young Adult, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Time Travel

Release Date: October 17, 2016

Publisher:  Mirror World Publishing

 

About The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret:

Fourteen year-old Jordan Jensen always considered himself a team player on and off the field, until the second Timekeeper mission lands him in Amsterdam during World War Two. Pulled into the world of espionage, torture, and intolerance, Jordan and the rest of the Timekeepers have no choice but to stay one step ahead of the Nazis in order to find and protect a mysterious book.

With the help of the Dutch Resistance, an eccentric baron, Nordic runes, and an ancient volume originating from Atlantis, Jordan must learn that it takes true teamwork, trust, and sacrifice to keep time safe from the evils of fascism. Can Jordan find the hero within to conquer the darkness surrounding the Timekeepers? If he doesn’t, then the terrible truth of what the Nazis did will never see the light of day.

Read an Excerpt:

“I wonder what else is down here.” Drake beamed his cell phone across the basement, hitting jars of jams, pickles, and relishes. His stomach growled.

Jordan pulled the cheese from his pocket and handed it to Drake. “Trade you for your phone.”

“Best. Trade. Ever.” Drake passed his phone to Jordan.

Jordan walked over and grabbed a jar of pickles off the dusty shelf. At least they wouldn’t arrive at the baron’s place hungry. He hoped his uncle had managed to stop Amanda’s bleeding. His hand tightened over the jar, the ridges of the lid cutting into his palm. A scrape from behind the shelves made Jordan jump.

“Hello?” he asked, pushing jars aside. He flashed the cell phone into the small, dark area.

“Who ya talking to, Jordan?” Drake asked with his mouth full of cheese.

“Shhh, Drake.” Jordan listened. Hearing nothing, he shrugged and turned back around.

“I thought I heard—” Jordan stopped and pointed the phone at Ravi. His jaw dropped. “A-Are you serious, Sharma?”

Drake spat out his cheese, snorting with laughter.

“Is there a problem?” Ravi asked, tying the bowtie of his tuxedo.

“You look like a penguin with attitude!” Drake slapped his knee.

“Say what you want, but I’m glad we didn’t hit the cleaners on the way to school now,” Ravi replied, pulling down his sleeves, “or else I wouldn’t have these dry clothes.”

Jordan chuckled. Suddenly, he heard a door creak open, followed by heavy footsteps squeaking down the stairs. Panicking, Jordan stuffed Drake’s phone in his track suit jacket’s pocket and waved Drake over by the shelves. Drake slipped behind Jordan just in time, before the small light bulb above the bottom of the stairs clicked on. Jordan swallowed hard. There, staring directly at Ravi was a portly man in a blood-stained apron. Tufts of blond hair sprouted from the sides of his balding head. His brown trousers were pulled up past his waist, making him resemble an evil garden gnome. In one of his hands, he held a huge butcher knife, its blade flecked with blood.

Wielding the knife, the man pointed at Ravi. “Who are you?”

Ravi licked his thick lips nervously. “The name’s Bond. James Bond.”

Purchase Links:

Mirror World Publishing: Paperback: http://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/collections/poetry/products/the-last-timekeepers-and-the-dark-secret-paperback

eBook: http://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/collections/poetry/products/the-last-timekeepers-and-the-dark-secret-ebook

Amazon:  http://amzn.to/2dJvpoL

Amazon.ca: https://www.amazon.ca/Last-Timekeepers-Dark-Secret

KOBO: https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/the-last-timekeepers-and-the/9781987976199

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/mobile/w/the-last-timekeepers-and-the-dark-secret-sharon-ledwithSaphs Book Promotions

Follow the Tour: http://saphsbookblog.blogspot.com/2016/10/book-tour-schedule-last-timekeepers-and.html

Meet the Author:

Sharon Ledwith #1 HeadshotSharon Ledwith is the author of the middle-grade/young adult time travel series, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS, and is represented by Walden House (Books & Stuff) for her teen psychic series, MYSTERIOUS TALES FROM FAIRY FALLS. When not writing, researching, or revising, she enjoys reading, exercising, anything arcane, and an occasional dram of scotch. Sharon lives a serene, yet busy life in a southern tourist region of Ontario, Canada, with her hubby, one spoiled yellow Labrador and a moody calico cat.

Learn more about Sharon Ledwith on her WEBSITE and BLOG. Look up her AMAZON AUTHOR page for a list of current books. Stay connected on FACEBOOKTWITTERGOOGLE+, and GOODREADS. Check out THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS TIME TRAVEL SERIES Facebook page.

 

Escape to the past and have a blast.

Would you like a free sample?

Over the weekend we were in Toronto at the Word on the Street Festival and I discovered just how refreshing it was to know that nearly every person who stopped by our booth was already a self-professed reader. Typically at craft shows, conventions, or even our own events, it’s a mix of different types of people, some who enjoy reading and some who don’t. From a marketing standpoint, the conversation is very different when you already know that the person in front of you likes what you have to offer. The conversation essentially begins at a different point. Instead of, ‘Do you like to read?’ it’s ‘What kinds of books are your favorite?’ or ‘Are you looking for anything particular today?’

At the festival, we also got the chance to try out something new: Free Samples. I’ve created three different ‘Samplers’ and I’m giving them away to anyone who wants one. They’re ebooks that contain the first chapter of each of our books in a given age category. There’s one for kids, one for young adults, and one for our adult collection. So now, you can sample what we have to offer which might help you decide which book to read first, or if our membership program is for you.

The Kids one contains:MWKS1 copy.jpg

Black Lightning by K.S. Jones
The Legend of Ghost Dog Island by Rita Monette
The Curse at Pirate’s Cove by Rita Monette
The Secret in Mossy Swamp by Rita Monette
The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis by Sharon Ledwith
The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret by Sharon Ledwith
Legend of the Timekeepers by Sharon Ledwith

And a bonus short story not found anywhere else:
The Hunting Dog by Rita Monette

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The Young Adult one contains:

She Dreamed of Dragons by Elizabeth J. M. Walker
Neo Central by Justine Alley Dowsett
Crimson Winter by Justine Alley Dowsett
The Watcher by Joshua Pantalleresco
Stormdancer by Joshua Pantalleresco
Disenchanted by Leigh Goff
This Night Sucks by Elizabeth J. M. Walker

And a bonus short story:
The Search for the Golden Feather by Elizabeth J. M. Walker
And the Adult one contains:MWKS3 copy.jpg

Sol of the Coliseum by Adam Gaylord
The Time Traveller’s Resort and Museum by David McLain
Mirror’s Hope by Justine Alley Dowsett and Murandy Damodred
Mirror’s Heart by Justine Alley Dowsett and Murandy Damodred
Unintended by Justine Alley Dowsett and Murandy Damodred
Uncharted by Justine Alley Dowsett and Murandy Damodred
Forbidden by Matthew Freake

And a bonus short story:
The Queen’s Intent by Justine Alley Dowsett

These ebooks are available FOR FREE in our online store! Just follow the links to check them out or head over to our online store for the whole collection.

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In other news, our Worlds Collide Gala is in two days and if you’re local to Windsor, Ontario we hope you can make it out to see us. With several authors, prizes and the birth of our imprint, Adventure Worlds Press, it will be a night to remember! RSVP here: https://www.facebook.com/events/1186485788080361/

Thanks for reading!