T4T: My Sister’s Reaper and My Tethered Soul Book Blitz and Giveaway

 

Welcome to this week’s Two for Thursday Book Blitz #T4T
presented by Month9books/Tantrum Books!

Today, we will be showcasing two titles that may tickle your fancy,
and we’ll share what readers have to say about these titles!

You just might find your next read!

This week, #T4T presents to you:

The Reaper’s Rite series by Dorothy Dreyer!

Be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post!

 

My Sister's Reaper

Sixteen-year-old Zadie’s first mistake was telling the boy she liked she could bring her dead sister back to life. Her second mistake was actually doing it.

When Zadie accidentally messes with the Reaper’s Rite that should have claimed her sister Mara, things go horribly wrong. Mara isn’t the same anymore—Zadie isn’t even sure she’s completely human, and to top it off, a Reaper is determined to collect Mara’s soul no matter what. Now Zadie must figure out how to defeat her sister’s Reaper, or let Mara die … this time for good.

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WHAT READER’S ARE SAYING:

 

“I felt that the author did a great job with her character developement. She was very vivid in her details and I felt like they were people I would meet on the street.” – Michelle, Goodreads Reviewer

 

“My Sister’s Reaper was a great paranormal, YA novel. Dreyer did an awesome job at creating Zadie’s linage and having it make complete sense.” – Tyler, Jolley Chronicles

 

“Okay, reapers, zombies, and death? Yeah, I was definitely reading this one.” – Kelly Hashway, Author

 

My Tethered Soul

Months have passed since Zadie faced her sister’s Reaper, during which time she’s been under her mentor’s magical protection. But now that she’s turning 17, that protection is about to run out. When dark forces lure Zadie to wander at night, she’s manipulated into committing unspeakable acts. With her friends and family at risk, Zadie must try to use her powers to break free from the Reaper’s grasp, or surrender to the Reaper’s Rite, which can only lead to death.

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WHAT READER’S ARE SAYING:

 

“The series is magnificent and should be on the best sellers list!!” – Holly, Author

 

“Dorothy Dreyer continues the fast-paced, heart pounding journey she started in My Sister’s Reaper, delivering a YA paranormal romance filled with believable characters battling unbelievable odds.” – Katie, Author

 

“Ms. Dreyer has upped the ante in terms of characterization, suspense, some down-right spooky scenes, and a playful sense of humor, particularly in the dialogue between her teen protagonists.” – Stuart, Author

 

about-the-author

 

Dorothy Dreyer

Dorothy Dreyer has always believed in magic. Born in Angeles City, Philippines, to a Filipino mother and American Father, Dorothy grew up a military brat, living in Massachusetts, South Dakota, Guam, New Jersey, and New York. She now lives in Frankfurt, Germany, with her husband, two teens, and two Siberian huskies. Dorothy not only writes books with some element of magic in them, but has a fondness for reading those kinds of books as well. She also enjoys movies, chocolate, take-out, and spending time with family and friends. She’s known to make a pretty sweet cupcake when she has the time. She also tends to sing sometimes, so keep her away from your Karaoke bars.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

 

Giveaway

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Arrows of Darkness Book Blitz

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Arrows of Darkness by B.I. Woolet
(World of Arcas #2)
Publication date: October 2nd 2015
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

Book Summary

unnamedJackson returns to Arcas expecting to find peace—a peace greatly lacking within his own home. But when a violent archer takes over as Lord of the White Palace, the future of the ancient kingdoms is shaken.

Frightening creatures have overtaken the beautiful Starling Forest, destroying everything in their path. Jackson and Nekkar narrowly escape the beasts together, but Nekkar blames the Son of Earth for releasing the present darkness in Arcas. The rocky, new friendship strengthens as they journey through dangerous lands toward the Free Realms. Can their loyalties survive when the beautifully gutsy Princess Andromeda interrupts their quest and the darkness of war batters their souls?

While Rigel, Otava, and Merope work together to rescue the six sisters trapped at the White Palace, Sephdar returns from shadowy crusades to find White Wings’ army leaderless. The new self-proclaimed ruler has a plan for the Seven Sisters and a plan for The Bridge to Earth. But when his ambitious arrows pierce the peaceful kingdoms, an unlikely force confronts the dark lord and the future of the crowns is changed forever.

Hold to your axe and hold to your lass as you join Jackson to combat the darkness spreading through the world of Arcas. But remember, the most powerful arrows do not pierce the body but the soul.

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Buy Links

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Amazon (Book One)

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Excerpt

“Mark the door!” Scruuutch. “The queen’s not in this room!” Scruuutch. An axe scraped across a heavy wooden door each time a room was cleared. “Someone’s alive! Come quickly!” another shouted for help.

King Alderamin squeezed the handle of his axe until his knuckles blanched. He could no longer control the passion inside him. Water flowed to his eyes while anger fought like a dam to hold back the flood of sorrow. With no destination in mind, he began running, running, running through the glass and the blood and the toppled bricks. He had arrived too late to outrun the enemy, but perhaps he could outrun the guilt.

Suddenly, the scenery changed. Everything felt untouched as he reached the back hallway. Every mirror was still perfectly intact, every wall still standing. And there was his light brown face in image after image with blood-shot, yellow-brown eyes looking back at him.

“RAAAAAHHHH!” He viciously swung his axe right and left, shattering each image that now looked detestable and pathetic to him. Crash! Crash! Crash! Shards of glass blasted from the sharpened edge of his axe as it collided with the mirrors covering every wall. But the last unblemished mirror that he swung the heavy weapon into didn’t respond as the others. His axe didn’t just sink into the glass; it sunk into the wall itself. The king jerked and yanked, but the iron head stuck firmly. In anger and frustration, he kicked the mirrored wall.

Click-click. Alderamin froze as the wall sprang open. Grabbing the edge of the solid door that was hiding behind a reflective façade, memories fell upon him like rain saturating a thirsty ground. I know this place, he realized, peering into the dusky staircase. Entering the dim passage, he slowly exhaled and inhaled to tame the wild breath of emotions that exited his lungs moments ago. For a moment, the world behind faded.

His fingers traced along the stones on the passageway, but what he felt was a hand interlocked in his, pulling him forward. Pulling him Down.

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About the Author

unnamed (1)B. I. Woolet (Benji & Ila Woolet) is the author of the World of Arcas series. Their Arcas adventures began with The Hunter, the Bear, and the Seventh Sister and now continue with Arrows of Darkness. When the Woolets aren’t working, writing, or chasing their four little girls around, they are active in their local community and church. The couple enjoys creating lyrical and literary arts, playing music together, and exploring nature. They are happily married and live in Indiana.

Author Links

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Ransom Canyon Author Interview

 

 

 

From New York Times bestselling author Jodi Thomas comes the first book in a compelling, emotionally resonant series set in a remote west Texas town—where family can be made by blood or by choice.
Rancher Staten Kirkland, the last descendant of Ransom Canyon’s founding father, is rugged and practical to the last. No one knows that when his troubling memories threaten to overwhelm him, he runs to lovely, reclusive Quinn O’Grady…or that she has her own secret that no one living knows.
Young Lucas Reyes has his eye on the prize—college, and the chance to become something more than a ranch hand’s son. But one night, one wrong decision, will set his life on a course even he hadn’t imagined.
Yancy Grey is running hard from his troubled past. He doesn’t plan to stick around Ransom Canyon, just long enough to learn the town’s weaknesses and how to use them for personal gain. Only Yancy, a common criminal since he was old enough to reach a car’s pedals, isn’t prepared for what he encounters.
In this dramatic new series, the lives, loves and ambitions of four families will converge, set against a landscape that can be as unforgiving as it is beautiful, where passion, property and pride are worth fighting—and even dying—for.
 

 

 

 
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Praise for Ransom Canyon

 

“Ransom Canyon is a tale of redemption and hope filled with authentic dialogue and characters engaging enough to chat with over a cup of coffee.” – Fort Worth Star Telegram


“Western romance legend Thomas opens her latest series in a small Texas town…. Ransom Canyon will warm readers with its huge heart and gentle souls. For all romance collections.” – Library Journal


“Once again a delightful entry into a new series by a favorite of mine. Jodi Thomas has the ability to reel me in every time with her enterprising, intelligent and caring cast of characters and RANSOM CANYON has some of the best yet. ” – Fresh Fiction

Author Interview

Did you always want to be a writer?  

No.  I didn’t read until the 4th grade and English was my worst subject.  But, I loved listening to stories and once I learned to read I felt like I lived in libraries for years.  I think we never know what is best in life.  Maybe my not reading all those years helped my imagination grow.

What were some of your favorite childhood stories/books?  

I skipped most of the children’s books in the library. The books I loved reading to by boys started with the Berenstein Bears,(the Spooky old Tree) Charlotte’s Web, The Giving Tree, Where the Wild Things Are, Goodnight Moon.

Texas plays a big part of much of your work.  Some people even say that Texas is so big that it is, itself, a character.  What’s your response to this?

Never ask a Texan about their state.  They’ll never stop talking.

Cowboys and romance go together so perfectly.  What is it about cowboys?

For me it’s a way of life.  I set of rules a cowboy lives by.  A quirky sense of humor.  A work ethic.  Who doesn’t love a man in a Stetson.

As Writer in Residence at West Texas A&M, what is the most common question asked of you from students?

Most common question when I lecture:  Where do your ideas come from?  I tell them I really don’t know.  I’ve had stories dancing in my head as long as I can remember.  I maintain a loose grip on reality.

Writing students ask:  Can you make a living as a writer?  My answer:  I’ve been doing it for over twenty years.  If you work at it half as hard as you would an 8 to 5 job you can get rich writing.

Who would you say is your biggest influence in your writing?

I’ve always loved romance starting with Barbara Cartland when I borrowed my mother’s books.  She always read the Harlequins that came every month in the mail and I never missed one.  My father read Louis L’Amour and so did I.  I guess I was meant to write western romance from the beginning.

What has been your favorite part about being an author?  

I love it when I get so lost in the writing that I don’t know or care what time it is.  I love writing late into the night because I have to see what will happen.

I also love working with beginning writers.  This week I had lunch with a woman who had a degree in English, had written articles and started several books, each in a different genre.

I saw the lights come on when I told her the secret:  Pick a line!  If you want to publish pick the kind of book you love to read and write in that genre.

What advice would you give to your 12 year old self?

Believe in yourself.  All those days you’re daydreaming in classes from grade school to grad school remember you’re working on your future career.

Also, find that kid named Thomas and marry him.  It’ll be the best think you ever do and he’ll help you follow your dream of writing.

If you could time travel, where would you go first?  

I already time travel all the time.  Where would I go?  Texas of course. ☺

What was the last book that was recommended to you?

Katherine Anderson’s NEW LEAF.  I always love curling up with one of her books.

What is your writing process like? Do you have any interesting writing rituals?

Most of my days are spent fighting my way to my computer hidden in a little place out back of my house.  We call it the bunkhouse.  The walls are covered with whiteboards and pictures of Ransom Canyon, Palo Duro Canyon, wild horses running across open country, sunsets, snakes and blue bonnets.  There are family trees and how I see the brands of each ranch in my story.  There is a board full of notes on what will come next and calendars from each book’s time period.  When I step into the Bunkhouse—-I step into RANSOM CANYON.

I’ve never felt alone out there.  My characters surround me.

Are you working on any other projects besides the Ransom Canyon series?

Not right now.  Ransom Canyon keeps me busy.  I’m promoting Book 1,(traveling to give talks and lectures) I’m copy-editing book 2, and writing book 3 every night I’m home.

On planes and long drives another series is simmering in the back of my brain but it will have to wait along with a dozen others.  I’ll write as many as I can, then maybe I’ll just sit back and daydream the others.

Being a writer is not what I do—-It’s who I am.

 

 
A fifth-generation Texan, New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Jodi Thomas chooses to set the majority of her novels in her home state, where her grandmother was born in a covered wagon. A former teacher, Thomas traces the beginning of her storytelling career to the days when her twin sisters were young and impressionable.
When not working on a novel or inspiring students to pursue a writing career, Thomas enjoys traveling with her husband, renovating a historic home they bought in Amarillo and “checking up” on their two grown sons.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Blog Tour Schedule

Sept 21 – Books and Broomsticks promo

   Because This is My Life, Y’all review

Sept 23 – TexasBookLover (guest post or Author Q&A)

Sept 25 – Hall Ways (Author Q&A or guest post)

Sept 26 – Blogging for the Love of Authors and Their Books  promo

Sept 28 – The Crazy Bookseller  promo

Sept 30 – Missus Gonzo review

Oct 2 – Texas Book-aholic review

Oct 5 – My Book Fix review

Oct 7 – The Page Unbound (Author Q&A or guest post)

Oct 9 – Texas Book-aholic Review

 
 
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Reawakened Teaser

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Reawakened (The Reawakened #1)

by Colleen Houck (Goodreads Author)

Book Synopsis(Goodreads):

When seventeen-year-old Lilliana Young enters the Metropolitan Museum of Art one morning during spring break, the last thing she expects to find is a live Egyptian prince with godlike powers, who has been reawakened after a thousand years of mummification.

And she really can’t imagine being chosen to aid him in an epic quest that will lead them across the globe to find his brothers and complete a grand ceremony that will save mankind.

But fate has taken hold of Lily, and she, along with her sun prince, Amon, must travel to the Valley of the Kings, raise his brothers, and stop an evil, shape-shifting god named Seth from taking over the world.

From New York Times bestselling author Colleen Houck comes an epic adventure about two star-crossed teens who must battle mythical forces and ancient curses on a journey with more twists and turns than the Nile itself.

Quote 1:

“The truth is, if I could bottle your water-lily scent and carry it with me as I wandered the desert, even if I was sick from the sun and dying from thirst, only to be saved by a desert sheikh who wished to barter for it, and even should the trading of it save my life, I would not part with it for all the jewels, silks, and precious riches of Egypt and all the lands surrounding it. So to say your scent is pleasant to me is an understatement most villainous.”
― Colleen Houck, Reawakened

Quote 2:

“I’d waited so long for his kiss, and it was so much more, so much better than I had dared imagine. Golden sunshine burst behind my closed eyelids as I became a being entwined with the sun.
His hands pulled me against his body and I melted into him, my limbs tingling and warm. Amon’s mouth moved over mine, slowly, like he could make the kiss last forever.”
― Colleen Houck, Reawakened

Quote 3:

“Lily, I can honestly tell you that I have never in my long life come across a creature as beguiling as you. You are as fresh and as lovely as a budding flower by the dew of a golden morning. I breathe you in and am filled with the taste of sunshine, life, and hope. You are much more than beautiful. You are…temptation personified.”
― Colleen Houck, Reawakened

Nameless Release Day Blitz

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Happy Release Day to

Nameless by Jennifer Jenkins!!

Join us in celebrating this release from Month9Books!

Enter the giveaway found at the end of the post.

Happy Book Birthday, Jennifer!

Did you know that NAMELESS is in development for film by Benderspink! That’s the same company who optioned Victoria Aveyard’s Red Queen and produced the I AM NUMBER FOUR film!

 

Nameless-cover

Four clans have been at war for centuries: the Kodiak, the Raven, the Wolf and the Ram. Through brutal war tactics, the Ram have dominated the region, inflicting death and destruction on their neighbors.

Seventeen-year-old Zo is a Wolf and a Healer who volunteers to infiltrate the Ram as a spy on behalf of the allied clans. She offers herself as a Ram slave, joining the people who are called the “nameless.” Hers is a suicide mission – Zo’s despair after losing her parents in a Ram raid has left her seeking both revenge and an end to her own misery. But after her younger sister follows her into Rams Gate, Zo must find a way to survive her dangerous mission and keep her sister safe.

What she doesn’t expect to find is the friendship of a young Ram whose life she saves, the confusing feelings she develops for a Ram soldier, and an underground nameless insurrection. Zo learns that revenge, loyalty and love are more complicated than she ever imagined in the first installment of this two-book series.

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Excerpt:

 

“Go ahead and do it.” Zo’s legs buckled beneath her. Gryphon let her sink to her knees on the cold earth.

“You can throw my body into the river when you’re done.” The Allies watched the river. Someone would know Tess was alone. Commander Laden would send a team to retrieve her. The Ram would move south and the Wolves, with the help of the Allies, would be prepared to fight. Tess would be free before the end of this year.

She would.

Joshua joined Zo on the ground and put an arm around her.

“Don’t worry, Zo. Gryphon’s not going to kill you.” Joshua looked up at Gryphon for reassurance.

“The chief will want to question her.” Gryphon frowned.

“But I’ll speak for her, Joshua.”

“You’ll speak for her?” Joshua jumped to his feet. He had to crane his neck to meet Gryphon’s cold eyes. “You’ll speak for her!” He shoved him in the chest with both hands. Gryphon didn’t even sway from the contact. Joshua pushed him again and again until his shoving turned to full-on punching. Gryphon just stood there and took it, watching Zo with a hollow expression. They all knew what would happen if Gryphon took her back.

Zo couldn’t stand it any longer. “Joshua, stop.” She used a low tree branch to help her stand. The muscles in her back throbbed from Gryphon’s rough handling. “I can speak for myself.”

The poor kid dropped to the ground. His head hung between his knees, he grabbed two fistfuls of his own red hair. Zo stepped toward Gryphon. “Send the boy away. For his own sake.” Zo was in no position to make demands, but the prospect of losing her life made her bold. She wouldn’t be a victim any longer.

Gryphon studied her through the curtain of his dark hair. “He has a right to stay.”

Zo stepped closer until their toes almost touched and the smoke of her breath reached his dimpled cheek. Her voice barely carried over the sound of the river. “Kill me here. Don’t hand me over to the chief’s guards.” The image of the Gate Master entered her mind. “Please.” Her bright blue eyes met his. The time for submission had passed.

Gryphon shook his head, his jaw set.

“What?” She shoved him. “Too much of a coward to do the job yourself? Aren’t you a Ram?” She had to get him angry. No one would know to help Tess if Zo’s body didn’t end up in that river.

Gryphon tensed.

Joshua got up from the ground and put a hand on his mentor’s chest while looking at Zo. “That wasn’t a great thing to say,” he forced a whisper through his teeth. “I think you should let me do the negotiating from now on.”

Gryphon pushed Joshua’s hand away. The wrap around his wounded shoulder was dark with fresh blood. The bandage needed replacing. “Why did you come to the Gate when you knew we kill your kind?” he asked.

Zo chose her words carefully. Tess’ life depended upon them. “Why are you so convinced I’m a Wolf?” “The Wolf I captured had that same mark on his shoulder.”

Zo opened her mouth to speak but no words came. The mark of the Allies was a well-kept secret. She wouldn’t be the one to divulge it. “The waxing moon is a common symbol of hope. I’m surprised you’ve never seen it before.”

“You look like a Wolf too.” Gryphon’s face colored and he looked away.

Zo sighed inwardly. It always came back to her cursed face.

“Either kill me or don’t. Nothing I say will sway you.” She folded her arms and showed him her back. It was the ultimate sign of disrespect inside the Gate. She braced herself, ready for him to strike her, but nothing happened.

A lifetime passed before she heard the crunch of his approaching footsteps.

Gryphon walked around to face her. This was it. Tonight she would join her parents on the other side of this cruel life. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Please let Tess be safe. Please let her not mourn my death. Let Commander Laden find her.

Warm hands clamped down on her tied wrists.

Zo’s eyes shot open and all of her fears raced back in one swift, agonizing moment: torture, no body for Laden’s men to find, Tess alone, the Gate Master. “No, no. Don’t take me back there. Please!” her voice slipped and cracked. “Please! I’ll do anything! Just don’t take me to the Gate Master!”

Gryphon pressed the blade of his short sword to her neck. “I don’t trust you, Wolf,” he whispered. “If you ever do anything to harm my people, I swear I will end your life in a way that will make you regret ever surviving this night.”

Joshua ran up and hugged Gryphon. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Gryphon yanked the band from her wrists and walked away, leaving Joshua and Zo to stare at his back in the moonlight.

Zo sunk to her knees. “I don’t believe it.” She held her unbound hands to her cheeks, her jaw hung slack.

Joshua put an arm around her. “Welcome to the family, Zo. I think he likes you.”

About-the-Author2

 

Jennifer Jenkins

With her degree in History and Secondary Education, Jennifer had every intention of teaching teens to love George Washington and appreciate the finer points of ancient battle stratagem. (Seriously, she’s obsessed with ancient warfare.) However, life had different plans in store when the writing began. As a proud member of Writers Cubed, and a co-founder of the Teen Author Boot Camp, she feels blessed to be able to fulfill both her ambition to work with teens as well as write Young Adult fiction.

Jennifer has three children who are experts at naming her characters, one loving, supportive husband, a dog with little-man syndrome, and three chickens (of whom she is secretly afraid).

Visit her online at jajenkins.com

Connect with the Author: Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest |Instagram

 

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Girl of Myth and Legend Trailer Reveal

Girl of Myth and Legend
Release Date: 12/29/15

Summary from Goodreads:

 

A girl with a past she tries to forget, and a future she can’t even imagine.

Leonie Woodville wants to live an unremarkable life. She wants routine, she wants repetition, she wants predictability. So when she explodes in a blaze of light one morning on the way to her college, it’s enough to put a real crimp in her day.

And things only get weirder…

Leonie learns from her father that she is last of the Pulsar, a phenomenally powerful member of a magical species called the Chosen. It will be her sole duty to protect the Imperium, a governing hierarchy, from all enemies, and to exceed the reputation of the Pulsar before her. So – no pressure there, then.

Leonie is swept away from her rigorous normality and taken to a world of magic. There, she is forced into a ceremony to join her soul to a guardian, Korren, who is both incredibly handsome and intensely troubled, a relationship for which ‘it’s complicated’ just really doesn’t cut it.

But Leonie is soon to learn that this ancient world is no paradise. With violent dissidents intent to overthrow the Imperium, and dark entities with their own agenda, she and Korren find themselves caught in a war where they will have to overcome their differences if they are to survive.

Dare to dream. Dare to hope. Dare to be a legend.

Book One in The Chosen Saga

 
Giselle Simlett was born in England. She has studied Creative Writing at both Gloucestershire University and the Open University. She has a diploma in Creative Writing, Language and Literature and will soon complete her BA Hons Open Degree.She does not as yet have a degree in the power and responsible use of magic, but she does have a young son, which amounts to the same thing.She currently lives in Australia with her husband and son.
 
Author Links:

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Minotaur Spotlight

We are so excited to be a part of the Minotaur Blog Tour! Be sure to check out an exclusive excerpt and giveaway below!

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Minotaur by Phillip W. Simpson
Publication Date:  September 29, 2015
Publisher:  Month9books

Book Summary:

“Where shall I start?” asked Minotaur.

Ovid made an expansive gesture with both hands. “Where else but the beginning of course.”

Minotaur nodded his huge head. “Yes,” he said. “Yes,” his eyes already glazing over with the weight of thousand year old memories. And then he began.

So begins the story of Asterion, later known as Minotaur, the supposed half bull creature of Greek legend. Recorded by the famous Roman poet, Ovid, Asterion tells of his boyhood in Crete under the cruel hand of his stepfather Minos, his adventures with his friend, Theseus, and his growing love for the beautiful Phaedra.And of course what really happened in the labyrinth.

This is the true story of the Minotaur.

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Purchase Links:
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Click here for the Tour Schedule

 

Book Excerpt:

When I say love, we were young, and it was largely innocent—kissing, caressing, and the like. Still heady stuff for a young man, so of course I tried to lure Phaedra away from the palace at any opportunity.

Sometimes, we would lie sheltered from the sun amongst the cyprus and oak trees, talking, kissing, and doing what other young couples in love did. They were probably the best times of my life.

On one such occasion, Phaedra and I had taken some food and a little wine I’d stolen from the kitchen and wrapped up in cloth. We set it down in a clearing amongst the trees and ate and drank our fill. I confess I’d probably drunk more wine than was good for me and was feeling more than a little bold.

We kissed. Reluctantly, I broke the embrace to ask a question that had been plaguing me.

“Why do you love me?” I asked.

Phaedra looked at me askance, her head tilting slightly to show the perfection of her jawline. I desperately wanted to kiss her again.

“Do you really need to ask such questions?” she replied, her face serious.

“Of course I do. Look at me. Look at you. Don’t you think we are an odd match?”

“Asterion, you of all people should know I don’t judge based on appearances. To me, you are the most handsome man in the world because of who you are. You are gentle and have a kind soul. That’s more important to me than looks. Besides,” she said, with a twinkle in her eye, “you have big muscles. Every girl likes big muscles.”

“Is that all I am to you? A slab of meat?” I tried to joke, but my tone was all wrong. I knew I half meant what I said. I was only too conscious of my massive size and, like my horns, knew it marked me as an oddity or a strange freak of nature.

Phaedra slapped me playfully. “Most of the time. Sometimes you’re able to string a sentence together that is almost intelligent.”

About the Author:

PhillipW.Simpson

ABOUT PHILLIP W. SIMPSON:

Phillip W. Simpson is the author of many novels, chapter books and other stories for children. His publishers include Macmillan, Penguin, Pearson, Cengage, Raintree and Oxford University Press. He received both his undergraduate degree in Ancient History and Archaeology and his Masters (Hons) degree in Archaeology from the University of Auckland. Before embarking on his writing career, he joined the army as an officer cadet, owned a comic shop and worked in recruitment in both the UK and Australia. His first young adult novel, Rapture (Rapture Trilogy #1), was shortlisted for the Sir Julius Vogel Awards for best Youth novel in 2012. He is represented by Vicki Marsdon at Wordlink literary agency. When not writing, he works as a school teacher.

Phillip lives and writes in Auckland, New Zealand with his wife Rose, their son, Jack and their two border terriers, Whiskey and Raffles. He loves fishing, reading, movies, football (soccer) and single malt Whiskeys.

Author Links:
Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

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Always Kiss Me Goodbye Book Blitz and Giveaway

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AlwaysKissMeGoodnight

Always Kiss Me Goodnight

by Megan Gaudino
Published by: Evernight Teen
Publication date: August 26th 2015
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult

Synopsis:

Sophia Destino is supposed to die.

All seventeen-year-old Sophia wants is to coast through her junior year. But with her parents obsessed with her Olympic-swimming-hopeful brother, a psychic best friend with a penchant for reading tarot cards, and prophetic dreams that predict her death—that won’t be easy. As her nightmares begin to come true, Sophia finds herself dodging death and longing for the time when getting over her ex-boyfriend was her biggest problem. Until she meets Leo Knight. The mysterious stranger seems determined to keep her alive—and steal her heart. But Leo has a secret that is about to change everything and Sophia is about to learn that sometimes…your number is up.

Excerpt

When we made it to the living room Hercules began lapping up the puddles of water we left behind us. Leo yanked the gray blanket off of the armchair and wrapped it around me because I was suddenly shaking.

He moved a salt stone lamp out of his way and sat on top of the coffee table, motionlessly taking in my expression. Before he even spoke I just knew he was reading me all wrong. I felt like I could read him already too.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sophia,” he groaned.

“For what? My idiotic carelessness or that you saved my life once again? You shouldn’t be sorry about either of those things.”

“I shouldn’t have let that happen. I shouldn’t have been sleeping still. I promised you I’d protect you and look what happened. Do you have any idea how close you were to dying? Even closer than you were last night. If I was just one second later I would’ve been too late.”

“I know. I was there. But you weren’t too late. It’s all over now—I’m fine.” He put his head in his hands and scrunched his hair in his palms. “Leo.” I reached forward and placed my hand on his arm. He was still so hot to the touch. “Why’s your skin so hot again?”

He flinched away from my hand, stood up, folded his arms across his chest and turned his back to me. His reaction made me question my gesture.

“It’ll go away.”

“Yeah but why does it happen at all?”

He hesitated for just a moment before he answered. “Because I keep saving your life.”

“I thought angels are supposed to save lives.”

“I already told you. I’m not an angel. I’m not supposed to save lives.”

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AUTHOR BIO:

Megan Gaudino works in a high school library by day and on her own books by night. She lives in Pittsburgh where you can find her reading, writing, and Instagraming.

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Dr. Mutter’s Marvels Promo

 

DR. MUTTER’S MARVELS
by
Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz


In celebration of the paperback release of Dr. Mutter’s Marvels, Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz will be in-conversation with Mellick T. Sykes, MD, MA (Anat) FACS, the Archivist from the Texas Surgical Society and a Clinical Professor of Surgery, to discuss the life and times of Dr. Thomas Dent Mutter, founder of the (in)famous Mutter Museum of medical oddities in Philadelphia. Their conversation at BookPeople in Austin, Texas on October 12th at 7 pm, will feature surgical instruments from the oftentimes treacherous (and fascinating) world of medicine and surgery during the early 19th century. The talk will be followed by a brief Q&A and signing.

 


A mesmerizing biography of the brilliant and eccentric medical innovator who revolutionized American surgery and founded the country’s most famous museum of medical oddities Imagine undergoing an operation without anesthesia, performed by a surgeon who refuses to sterilize his tools—or even wash his hands. This was the world of medicine when Thomas Dent Mütter began his trailblazing career as a plastic surgeon in Philadelphia during the mid-nineteenth century.
Although he died at just forty-eight, Mütter was an audacious medical innovator who pioneered the use of ether as anesthesia, the sterilization of surgical tools, and a compassion-based vision for helping the severely deformed, which clashed spectacularly with the sentiments of his time. Brilliant, outspoken, and brazenly handsome, Mütter was flamboyant in every aspect of his life. He wore pink silk suits to perform surgery, added an umlaut to his last name just because he could, and amassed an immense collection of medical oddities that would later form the basis of Philadelphia’s renowned Mütter Museum.
Award-winning writer Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz vividly chronicles how Mütter’s efforts helped establish Philadelphia as a global mecca for medical innovation—despite intense resistance from his numerous rivals. (Foremost among them: Charles D. Meigs, an influential obstetrician who loathed Mütter’s “overly modern” medical opinions.) In the narrative spirit of The Devil in the White City, Dr. Mütter’s Marvels interweaves an eye-opening portrait of nineteenth-century medicine with the riveting biography of a man once described as the “[P. T.] Barnum of the surgery room.”
 
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Even in the middle of the ocean, Mütter could not get her out of his mind. He excused himself early from dinner, stopped well- meaning conversationalists mid- sentence, and rushed down to his sleeping
quarters just to hold her face in his hands.
 
To an American like him, she appeared unquestionably French: high cheekbones, full upturned lips, glittering deep- set eyes. For an older woman, she was impressively well preserved, her temples kissed with only the slightest crush of wrinkles. When she was young, Mütter imagined, she must have been very beautiful, though perhaps girlishly sensitive about the long thin hook of her nose, or the pale mole resting on her lower left cheek. But that would have been decades ago.
 
Now well past her childbearing years, the woman answered only to “Madame Dimanche”—the Widow Sunday— and all anyone saw when they looked at her was the thick brown horn that sprouted from her pale forehead, continuing down the entire length of her face and stopping bluntly just below her pointy, perfect French chin.
 
The young Dr. Thomas Dent Mutter had arrived in Paris less than a year earlier, in the fall of 1831. Even for Mutter, who had always relied heavily on his ability to charm a situation to his favor, it had not been an easy trip to arrange. He was just twenty years old when he graduated from the University of Pennsylvania’s storied medical college. To an outsider, he may not have seemed that different from the other students in his class: fresh- faced, eager, hardworking. But he knew he was different— in some ways that were deliberate and in other ways that were utterly out of his control.
 
Perhaps the most obvious of these was Mutter’s appearance. He was, as anyone could plainly see, extraordinarily handsome. Having studied his parents’ portraits as a child— One of the few things of theirs he still possessed— he knew that he inherited his good looks. He had his father’s strong nose, impishly arched eyebrows, and rare bright blue eyes. He favored his mother’s bright complexion, her round lips, and sweet, open oval face. His chin, like hers, jutted out playfully.
 
Mutter made sure to keep his thick brown hair cut to a fashionable length, brushed back and swept off his cleanly shaven, charismatic face. His clothing was always clean, current, and fastidiously tailored. From a young age, he understood how important looks were, how vital appearance was to acceptance, especially among certain circles of society. He worked hard to create an aura of ease around him. No one needed to know how much he had struggled, or how much he struggled still. No, rather he made it a habit to stand straight, to make his smile easy and his laugh warm. He was, as a contemporary once described him, the absolute pink of neatness.
 
The truth was that, financially, he had always been forced to walk a tightrope. Both his parents had died when he was very young. The money they left him was modest, and thanks to complicated legal issues, his access to it was severely limited. Over the years, he grew practiced in the art of finessing opportunities so that he could live something approximate to the life he desired. At boarding school, he was known to charge his clothing bills to the institution and then earn scholarships to pay off the resulting debts. When he wanted to travel, he secured just enough money to get him to his destination and then relied on his wits to get him back home.
 
And now that Mutter had achieved his long time goal of graduating from one of the country’s best medical schools, he focused on his next goal: Paris.
 
Paris was the epicenter of medical achievement: the medical mecca. Hundreds of American doctors swarmed to the city every year, knowing that in order to be great, to be truly great, you must study medicine in Paris.
And that had always been Mutter’s plan: to be great. More than that: to be the greatest.
Getting to Paris, however, was not an easy endeavor. He knew— as all gentlemen of limited means did— that sailing as a surgeon’s mate with a U. S. naval ship in exchange for free passage to Europe was an option open to him, but competition was always considerable and fierce. Mutter spent months submitting letters and applications to the secretary of the Navy, trying to use charm, logic, and bravado to secure a position. He even implored his guardian, Colonel Robert W. Carter, to ask prominent men close to President Jackson to write letters on his behalf, explaining, “[I] am afraid that I shall not be able to obtain an order unless I can get my friends to make some exertions for the furtherance of my plan.” Despite all the effort he expended, no position ever materialized.
 
Mutter could only watch as the wealthier members of his graduating class departed for Europe with financial ease. Others returned to their hometowns with their new degrees, bought houses with their fathers’ money, and started their practices using their families’ connections. Mutter remained in Philadelphia, and his hopes remained fixed on Paris.
 
Mutter felt his luck about to change when he read about the Kensington in a local Philadelphia paper. For months, the Cramp shipyard had been building a massive warship. The rumor was that it was being built for the Mexican Navy, and that upon seeing its immense size— and cost— they opted to back out of purchasing it. However, the most recent update was that the giant ship had sold after all, to the Imperial Russian Navy.
 
Mutter saw an opportunity. He went to the Cramp shipyard and asked if the American crew in charge of sailing the Kensington to Russia was in need of a surgeon’s mate. That he was just twenty and only a few months out of medical school was a minor detail. He hoped that being present, able, and willing would be enough. Luckily for Mutter, it was. A few weeks later, he boarded the ship (later to be renamed the Prince of Warsaw by Tsar Nicholas himself ), and left America for the first time.
 
The ocean was like nothing Mutter had ever experienced: vast and wild and so incredibly loud. He had hoped the enormity of the newly built warship— with its four towering masts and immense spiderweb of rigging— as well as its extensively trained crew would offer him comfort during the weeks at sea, but the experience was more taxing than any book or anecdote portended.
 
He did not anticipate that whether he was holed up in the bowels of the ship or clinging to the aft railing, his body would be trapped in a relentless cycle of emptying itself. That his stomach would never become accustomed to the rolling blue- black swells of the sea. Nor did he realize how intimate he would become with the ship’s beastly stowaways— bedbugs and fleas,
and rats. He would wake to bugs crawling in his hair and mouth, and fall asleep to sounds of the rats chewing through his clothes, attempting to suss out even the smallest morsel of food. And then there were the storms, the nights when he felt certain the vessel would break in two as mountainous waves crashed over it, the ship itself painfully groaning with each hit. The ocean seemed nothing but a frothing black maw, hungry to devour him.
 
When the sea was calm and the sky bright and blue, he forced himself to stand on the ship’s deck and look toward what he hoped was Europe. He tried to enjoy these moments, but he didn’t know true relief until the crew pointed out birds appearing in the sky, a sign that they were approaching land, after more than a month at sea.
 
When Mutter finally arrived in Paris, it immediately reminded him of the ocean; it too was vast and wild and incredibly loud. Unlike at sea, however, in Paris he felt perfectly at home.
 
Its streets were packed, people and buildings in every direction. His world was suddenly and delightfully filled  with new sounds, new scents, new music. There were colorfully dressed women sweeping the streets, and strapping men carrying enormous bundles on their heads. There were strange- looking carriages that seemed like relics of a barbarous age, which were in turn being pulled by enormous and brash horses. Even the food being eaten at street- side cafes seemed strange and exotic to Mutter. The city avenue was a vast museum of wonderful new sights to gawk at, and it seemed that the French wanted it that way. They loved to look, and to be looked at. It was true what Mutter had heard: Those French who could spare the time would flamboyantly promenade every day. And on Sundays, absolutely everyone did.
 
Once Mutter had secured modest student housing, he set out to promenade himself. He’d been sure to pack his finest clothes for the journey: suits cut close to his slim frame (his natural thinness being perhaps one of the only benefits he’d gained from the illnesses that had plagued him since childhood) and made from the most expensive fabrics he could afford in the brightest colors in stock. Years earlier, a schoolmaster once wrote to Colonel Carter, Mutter’s guardian, that his pupil’s “principal error is rather too much fondness for a style of dress not altogether proper for a boy his age.” Clearly, that schoolmaster had never been to Paris.
 
Mutter enjoyed the moment, peacocking on Parisian streets for the first time, a master of his fate. The lines between Mutter’s starting points and his destination were not often straight, but he took pride and comfort in knowing that he always got there. And the next morning, he would begin the next phase of his mission, his true goal in Paris: to learn everything he could about modern medicine until his money, or his luck, ran out.
 
In 1831, over a half million people called Paris their home, and by royal decree, each French citizen was entitled to free medical treatment from any of the dozens of hospitals within the city limits. The hospitals were typically open to any visiting doctors, provided one could show them a medical degree and, when necessary, place the right amount of coins into the right hands.
 
Studying medicine in Paris became so popular that guidebooks were written just for the visiting American doctors. Nowhere else in the world, one wrote, could “experience be acquired by the attentive student as in the
French capital . . . where exists such a vast and inexhaustible field for observation. . .”
 
And it was true. Where else but Paris would there be not one but two hospitals devoted entirely to the treatment of syphilis? Afflicted women were sent to the Hôpital Lourcine, a hospital filled with the most frightful instances of venereal ravages. The men were sent to the Hôpital du Midi, which required that all patients be publicly whipped as punishment for contracting the disease, both before and after treatment.
 
Hôpital des Enfants– Malades was a hospital for ill children, and was nearly always filled to capacity. It had a grim mortality rate— one in every four children who came for treatment died there— but the doctors on staff assured visiting scholars that this was because most of the patients came from the lowest classes of society and thus were frequently brought to the hospital already in a hopeless or dying condition.
 
Doctors specializing in obstetrics could visit Hôpital de la Maternité. It served laboring women only, and averaged eleven births a day. Some days, however, the numbers rose to twenty- five or thirty women, each wailing in her own bed, as the doctors and midwives (called sages-femmes) rushed among them. New mothers were allowed to stay nine days after giving birth, and the hospital even supplied them with clothing and a small allowance, provided they were willing to take the child with them. Not all of the women were.
 
So the Hôpital des Enfants– Trouvés for abandoned children was founded. Newborns arrived daily from Hôpital de la Maternité from women unable or unwilling to keep their children, as well as those infants whose mothers died while giving birth, as one in every fifty women who entered Hôpital de la Maternité did.
 
The Hôpital des Enfants– Trouvés also allowed Parisian citizens to come directly to the hospital and hand over a child of any age. The hospital encouraged families to register and mark the children they were leaving so they might reclaim them at a later date, but the families who chose to do so were few. In fact, the vast majority of the children there had arrived via le tour.

Le tour d’abandon (“the desertion tower”) was merely a box attached to the hospital, constructed with two sliding doors and a small, loud bell. An infant was unceremoniously placed in the box, the door firmly closed behind it, and the bell was rung. Upon hearing the bell, the nurses on duty would go to le tour to remove the infant, replace the box to its original position, and wait. Every night, a dozen or so infants were received in precisely this way.
 
For a while, it had been in vogue for wealthy, childless individuals to adopt children from the Hôpital des Enfants– Trouvés to bring up as their own, but the practice had long since fallen out of fashion. At the time of 
Mutter’s visit, more than sixteen thousand children were considered wards of the Hôpital des Enfants– Trouvés, and of those, only twelve thousand would live to adulthood.
 
There were hospitals for lunatic women and for idiot men, hospitals for the incurable, for the blind, for the deaf and dumb, and even for ailing elderly married couples who wished to die together— they could stay in the same large room provided that the furniture they used to furnish their room became the property of the hospice upon their deaths.
 
And perhaps most astonishing to the visiting American doctors, Paris had the École Pratique d’Anatomie, which provided any doctor, for six dollars, access to his own cadaver for dissection. In America, cadaver dissection was largely illegal. Many doctors resorted to grave robbing to have the opportunity to examine the human body fully. In Paris, twenty doctors at a time would whittle a human body down to its bones— provided they could stand the smell and the ultimate method of disposal of the dissected corpses: At day’s end, the decimated remains were fed to a pack of snarling dogs kept tied up in the back.
 
However, more than any single hospital, what most attracted Mutter to Paris were the surgeons: brilliant and daring men who were to him living gods, redefining medicine and at the zenith of their renown.
 
 
 
Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz is an award-winning non-fiction writer, poet, and touring author. Born and raised in Philadelphia, she first visited the Mütter Museum in the fourth grade. She lives in Austin, Texas.
 
Blog Tour Schedule

Oct 3 – Books and Broomsticks promo

Oct 4 – The Page Unbound promo

Oct 5 – Feather Pens, Tartan Dreams promo

Oct 6 – Bookishjessp review

Oct 7 – Blogging for the Love of Authors and Their Books promo

Oct 8 – Texas Book Lover Author Q&A

Oct 9 – My Book Fix review

Oct 10 – Missus Gonzo review

Oct 11 – Because This is My Life Y’all review

Oct 12 – Hall Ways review

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