New Release from Clean Teen Publishing: The Awakener by Amanda Strong

A simple touch will change their lives forever.

Seeing Micah for the first time in years, fifteen year old Eden wants nothing more than to run and hide, but instead in a moment of sheer embarrassment, she throws her arms around his neck; unaware she just changed her childhood friend forever.

With eyes’ opened to the realm of angels and demons, Micah discovers he has become the Seer, called to save the world from an impending fire. Shy and awkward, Eden stumbles through high school clueless her guardian angel shadows her every move, keeping her safe while she unknowingly “awakens” others to their spiritual gifts. Micah will need those Eden touched to complete his mission which began long ago in the ancient City of Enoch and its secret underground temple.

With angels and demons fighting around them, both Eden and Micah must find their own personal courage and faith in order to know what to do for the battle that awaits them, one they must triumph or risk losing everyone they love.

Excerpt:

She bit the inside of her cheek, the instinct to duck behind the two girls intense.  Spine tingling with adrenaline, she pushed her glasses up.  Down the corridor, sandwiched between two girls and a guy, was her childhood best friend, Micah.   Though no longer a lanky boy, she still recognized his light blue eyes.  The mop of black hair he had as a kid was now short, little longer than a buzz.  Eden was drawn to his smile, even if it was meant for the blonde girl at his side.  A good foot shorter than him, the girl craned her neck up as she wrapped an arm around his waist.

Got to be his girlfriend, she decided.   A stocky jock-type boy with chestnut brown hair and a tan girl with jet-black hair stood next to them.  The jock slugged Micah’s shoulder as his bellowing laugh made its way down the hall to Eden.

Then the scene was gone as jeans and myriad of different colored t-shirts blocked her view.  She sucked in a deep breath, her lungs burning from holding it too long. Sweat was beading at the top of her forehead as she prayed she could pass Micah’s entourage unnoticed.  If I can’t see him he can’t see me either right?  She hoped.

The stair case loomed nearer.  I’m going to make it, she thought wishing the kids in front of her would move faster.

“No way dude. Coach always gives you the ball Micah,” a male voice boomed.

Eden glanced over.  Micah’s group was directly left of her now.

He hasn’t noticed me, just keep moving, she told herself.

Face ducked down, she lifted her leg up only to have her foot land sideways and to the left.  Her weight uneven, she feared toppling over, but a pressure on her left side held her up.  Confused, she again attempted to move away, only this time, her body made a ninety degree turn, bringing her a foot away from the blonde girl.

Horrified, Eden’s legs stepped one in front of the other, heading straight towards Micah.  Within seconds she stood dead center, stopping his small group of friends short.  Sky blue eyes swam in front of her vision before she was lunging forward, throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him.

Funny the things you notice in a moment of sheer humiliation, she thought, as time dropped into neutral, prolonging her torture.

There was a hiss-like sound from the short blonde.  Yep, definitely his girlfriend.

A male was chuckling.  Not Micah. Must be the jock.

Arms wrapped around her hugging her back.  Oh my gosh!

She shifted her weight back, trying to detangle herself from Micah’s arms.   Pulling her face away from his neck, the memory of his scent automatically tucked away in her mind, she met Micah’s raised brow line, wide eyes, and even wider grin.

“Eden?  Is that you?” he asked, as they separated further.

Aware his hands still held her forearms she was forced to remain and maintain eye contact. She nodded, terrified to speak.

“Wow! How the heck are you?  It’s been forever!” Though his face appeared delighted, she couldn’t help but notice how un-delighted his girlfriend was, as her amber eyes glared up at her.

PURCHASE AT AMAZON!

Born in Dekalb, Illinois, Amanda Strong has called Utah, Arizona, Hawaii, Virginia and now New Mexico home. Amanda has been spinning tales since she was a child. Her family still remembers finding young Amanda with her bright pink glasses, hiding in random corners of the house while scribbling away in one of her many spiral-bound notebooks. You could say that some things never change since Amanda is still writing today. Amanda began her writing career when she uploaded The Awakener, her first full-length novel, on Wattpad where it received over 430,000 reads in four weeks. She was blown away and humbled by the reader support and feedback she received. Because of The Awakener’s success as a non-published book, she was asked to talk on 1400 KSTAR about her story.

In September 2013 Amanda Strong signed with Clean Teen Publishing for publication of The Awakener, which is scheduled to release in late October of this year. The Awakener is the first book in an all-new young adult paranormal romance series called: The Watchers of Men.

When Amanda isn’t writing, you can find her chasing her three rambunctious children around the house and spending time with her wonderful and supportive husband. On some occasions you can still find Amanda with her not-so-pink glasses, hiding in a corner reading her favorite young adult fantasy novels or working out only to blow her diet by eating ice cream.

Like Amanda on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authoramandaestrong

Follow Amanda on Twitter: https://twitter.com/aewstrong

Add The Awakener to Goodreads

Coming Soon from Clean Teen Publishing: River of Bones by Angela Townsend

When seventeen-year-old Dharma Moore moves to Bayou country so her scam artist mother can work as a Paranormal Investigator, she discovers that more than ghosts haunt the abandoned plantation they now call home.

Centuries ago, a voodoo curse was placed on the swamp waters surrounding the old plantation by a murdered slave. This terrible curse ensnares Dharma with its deadly effects. To save herself, she must face the terror of the haunted waters, find the dead woman’s skull, and convince the slave’s soul to release her from its torments. When Dharma discovers an ancient secret that links her to the property—a secret kept from her by her own family—she realizes that the curse is more personal to her than she ever imagined.

To survive, Dharma must accept the help of the locals, and put her trust in the handsome gardener, Wolf Bodine—who is the only one crazy enough to come near the plantation. With his help, Dharma must learn to embrace the truth and accept that magic is not only real… but that it can be very, very deadly!

EXCERPT:

My cheeks blazed, I opened my mouth to speak, fighting for words that wouldn’t make me sound like a fool, when something shuffled upstairs again.

Wolf stared at the ceiling, his brow creased. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know. I heard it just before you came in. I was going to ask you to come with me to check it out.”

He walked from the kitchen to the foot of the stairs and peered into the dark stairwell. I put Benny into the playpen with his sippy cup and toys before following Wolf up the stairs. Just as we reached the landing, the hollow footsteps sounded again. Wolf glanced over his shoulder and whispered, “It might be the pipes rattling. Old houses can make all kinds of random noises.  Stay close and let’s do some exploring.”

We checked out each room, finding nothing but dust and building materials from half-finished renovations. Then we came to the second staircase, which led to the third floor. Steep and narrow, it swept much higher than the one leading to the second floor. I held tight to the handrail, following Wolf to the third floor landing. Five doors, all closed, lined the narrow hallway, two on either side and one at the end.

“Let’s hurry. I have to get back to Benny,” I said, taking a giant step and tripping over my own feet. I landed hard, spraining my wrist.

“Are you all right?” Wolf said, scooping me up. I started to dissolve in his strong arms. He stared into my eyes for several seconds, then grabbed my hand and placed it against his lips. His mouth parted under my hand and his breath danced across my fingertips. I could hardly breathe. Heat seared into my face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said softly.  I pulled back my hand–my body tingling in places I didn’t know I had.

The footsteps sounded again. Wolf helped me to my feet, his eyes wide and alert. “It’s coming from down the hall. Stay behind me.”

We tiptoed to the end of the hallway to the last door. Wolf gripped the glass doorknob. “Who’s in there?” He called. A faint flutter or shuffle could be heard on the other side of the door. Wolf turned the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s locked.”

Whispering voices traveled under the threshold. Footsteps sounded again.

“Open up, we’re coming in!” Wolf said. He glanced at me, his eyes hard. “I’m gonna break it down. Stand back.”

I took a step away and Wolf shoved hard on the door. It flew open and every ounce of me begged for it to be closed again.

Coming 10/30 from Clean Teen Publishing!

JOIN THE RIVER OF BONES SP00K-TACULAR REBATE PARTY. FIND DETAILS AT https://www.facebook.com/events/172301326298935/

Angela Townsend was born in the beautiful Rocky Mountains of Missoula, Montana. As a child, Angela grew up listening to stories told by her grandparents, ancient tales and legends of faraway places. Influenced by her Irish and Scottish heritage, Angela became an avid research historian, specializing in Celtic mythology. Her gift for storytelling finally led her to a full time career in historical research and writing. A writer in local community circulations, Angela is also a published genealogical and historical resource writer who has taught numerous research seminars. Currently, Angela divides her time between writing, playing Celtic music on her fiddle, and Irish dancing.

Angela’s first novel, Amarok, was published through Spencer Hill Press in 2012. Her newest novel, Angus MacBain and The Island of Sleeping Kings, was signed for publication with Clean Teen Publishing in 2013.

Angela resides on a ranch, in rural Northwestern Montana, with her two children Levi and Grant.

Follow Angela on Twitter: https://twitter.com/AngelaJTownsend

Like her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AngelaTownsendAuthor

Follow her blog at http://angelatownsendbooks.blogspot.com/

Dead Plains: The Zombie West Series by Angela Scott

Sometimes, the ones you least suspect are the ones that should worry you the most.

People aren’t always what they seem, as Red has experienced all too well. Strangers are feared, towns are avoided, and everyone’s intentions are scrutinized… even those of the people closest to her. Her coveted ability has been revealed to far too many people, and now that a tiny heartbeat thumps and grows beneath her own, the risk has never been greater.

As the group of ten searches for a safe haven, a place to finally call home, the sobering reality of it all finally settles over them: nowhere is safe, nothing is permanent, and death is everywhere. One by one, Red’s reluctant posse grows smaller, as death claims some, and circumstance claims others.

It couldn’t be a worse time to bring a newborn into the world… but the baby is coming.

BIO:

I hear voices. Tiny fictional people sit on my shoulders and whisper their stories in my ear. Instead of medicating myself, I decided to pick up a pen, write down everything those voices tell me, and turn it into a book. I’m not crazy. I’m an author. For the most part, I write contemporary Young Adult novels. However, through a writing exercise that spiraled out of control, I found myself writing about zombies terrorizing the Wild Wild West—and loving it. My zombies don’t sparkle, and they definitely don’t cuddle. At least, I wouldn’t suggest it.

I live on the benches of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains with two lovely children, one teenager, and a very patient husband. I graduated from Utah State University with a B.A. degree in English, not because of my love for the written word, but because it was the only major that didn’t require math. I can’t spell, and grammar is my arch nemesis. But they gave me the degree, and there are no take backs.

ONLINE LINKS:

Website: www.angelascottauthor.com

Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/AngelaScottWriter

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ascott_author

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/AngelaScott

BUY NOW LINK:

• Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Dead-Plains-Zombie-West-ebook/dp/B00FNH2MLA/

Interview with Ron Hutchinson, Author of Voices of Locusts

Ron says he was an Army brat growing up, and lived all over the country, from New York to California and points in between. He began writing fiction full time at the age of 66 after a long career in journalism and public relations. Ron graduated from the University of Missouri in 1967 with a degree in journalism. He has worked as a reporter, editor, and columnist at newspapers in Texas, California, and Missouri. He was employed by a major oil company as a public relations executive, and later operated his own public relations agency. He created the board game Sixth Sense in 2003. Ron lives in Joplin, Missouri, and enjoys golf and hiking.

When did you first get bit by the writing bug?

I took my first newspaper job at the El Paso Times when I was 19. I was a big fan of Ernest Hemingway back in those days, and I thought how nice it would be to rent some isolated beach house and write for a living. It was all a pipe dream because I lacked the discipline needed to write. Still, as the years rolled past, I held onto my dream. After I retired from a career in journalism and public relations, I gave writing another try. I was 66. Not only did I now have the discipline, but I pieced together in my head a half dozen novels. My fifth novel will be published this spring.

Why did you decide to write stories for the YA market?

My life as a kid was filled with adventure—from climbing Mt. Fuji in Japan to hunting elk in Colorado—and it seemed only natural for me to write about those adventures, albeit with some literary license.

What is your favorite part of writing for this group? What is the greatest challenge?

I create strong middle-grade and YA characters, present them a conflict, then turn them loose. They map out the story—I simply goes along for the ride. The greatest challenge with middle-grade/YA stories is dialogue that rings true. A middle-grade character speaking like an adult, for example, will turn off a young reader. I strive to write middle-grade/YA dialogue that is real, and pay close attention to what is being said when I am around kids in those age groups.

Can you tell us what your latest book is all about?

Young Jack O’Brien and his family arrive at a remote U.S. Air Force outpost where Jack’s father is base commander. The year is 1948. Sixteen-year-old Jack has never felt the bittersweet sting of love, but that all changes when he has a chance encounter with Fujiko Kobaysi, a beautiful and enchanting 17-year-old Japanese girl. Jack is immediately smitten.

Fujiko’s parents are overly protective and monitor her every move, and Jack and Fujiko meet secretly at her garden, located some distance from her village. Jack is devastated when Fujiko tells him that she has been promised in marriage by her parents to an older man, a practice common throughout Asia at the time. The marriage is only months away. Jack devises a cunning plan, one that will overshadow her arranged marriage and bring Fujiko and him together.

Playing out against a backdrop of swirling post-War social change, Voices of the Locusts also tells the story of three families—one black, one white, one Asian. Told in vivid and sometimes haunting detail, Jack and Fujiko are frustrated in their romantic quest by story characters coming to terms (often violently) with the emotional scars of World War II.

What inspired you to write it?

Much of the story is based on personal experience from living in Japan for two years. The story took shape in my head over many years.

Where can readers purchase a copy?

Amazon. It is available as an e-book or paperback.

What is up next for you?

I just completed a crime thriller I’m calling “The Redhead, the Bookie, and the G-Man.” It should be available to purchase later this spring at Amazon.

Do you have anything else to add?

Don’t give up on your dream. Tell a story that is unique, create characters who are believable but one of a kind, and write dialogue that is crisp and full or passion.

Thank you for spending time with us today, Ron. We wish you much success.

Circle of Lies by Sara Dailey and Staci Weber

Circle of Lies

by SARA DAILEY & STACI WEBER

Aiden Wright is trying to figure
out who he really is, but the truth could cost him his true mate—or his life.

Life has always been easy for
Aiden Wright. He’s smart, athletic, funny, and the ladies adore him. But when
tragedy strikes, Aiden discovers the truth about who he really is, and his
whole world comes crashing down around him. Aiden thought that being a teenage
werewolf was going to be awesome, but it might just cost him the one girl who
could make him whole.

Since her mother’s disappearance, Teagan Rhodes’s life has been littered
with her father’s empty beer cans and his hollow promises to change. Convinced
that others would only let her down, she keeps everyone at arm’s length—but
resisting Aiden’s charm is proving to be more difficult than she thought. Throw
in a psychotic werewolf hunter out to terminate the species, and one wrong
move, one wrong decision could destroy everything.

 

CHAPTER 1

 

Teagan

“I’m taking off, guys. Have a great Thanksgiving,” I yelled to my coworkers as I pulled off my
Sephora apron and slid into my winter coat. 

     “See you later, Teagan. Happy Thanksgiving!” Janie replied as she finished up restocking
the lip gloss. 

     I’d been kind of hoping that we would be busy, that the store managers would be forced to
ask me to stay and work a double, but no such luck. Guess all the shoppers were waiting for
Black Friday. I really could have used the extra money, but more importantly, the work would
have kept me out of the house a little longer. Holidays are not so fun around there these days. It’s
safe to say this is my least favorite time of year. 

     New Mexico. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the weather here. And I used to think it got
cold in San Antonio! I guess when you grow up in Texas, you don’t really know the true
meaning of winter. As I stepped outside the mall, a rush of cold November air hit me so hard it
forced my teeth to chatter uncontrollably. Zipping up my coat, I ran as fast as my frozen legs
would carry me to my beat-up Toyota Corolla, circa sometime before I could walk. I always hear
kids talk about how much they love their junked out “classic” cars, how those cars have
character. Well, my car doesn’t have character. It’s a piece of shit. The damned thing’s heater doesn’t even work. But, at least I have something, and when you have to buy it for yourself at
seventeen you can’t afford to be picky. I could only imagine what it would be like to depend on
dear ol’ Dad for transportation. 

     By the time I got home little icicles were forming on my eyelashes, and as I walked up the
front steps to our house I saw that evidence of my father’s ever-growing habit littered the porch.
By the look of things, he should be fairly close to passing out if not already face-down on the
couch. A girl could hope. An entire case of empty beer cans and countless cigarette butts
surrounded the wooden rocking chair that my mother bought just before she disappeared. 

     “Disappeared.” That’s the belief my father holds on to—or at least he pretends to hold on to
it. Me, I know the truth. Only a fool wouldn’t see what really happened. She was miserable at
home, hated my father, and had clearly found someone new. Her sudden interest in late-night
drives were enough proof for me, but I’d followed her anyway one night just to be sure and
ended up at a Motel 6 near the highway. No, she just up and left one day. We moved to Red
Ridge, New Mexico, and in just over a month Mom went MIA. No goodbyes, no see-ya-laters;
she was just suddenly gone. Life isn’t a soap opera where beautiful, mysterious captors abduct
women with miserable lives and carry them off to happier ones, though. No, women have to
choose to leave. They pack a bag, snag your favorite family portrait from the mantel and just
walk out of your life. Out of their children’s lives. Out of everyone’s life. 

     So, that’s what really happened. Only an idiot like my father would believe anything else.
Hell, he likely believed that Paris kidnapped Helen of Troy. No way. Helen just took off with
that hot younger guy, leaving her sorry-ass husband Menelaus alone. Life would be so much
easier if my father would just accept that Mom chose to leave. Then maybe, just maybe, he could
move on. 

     I have. I sometimes wonder, though, if the face that launched a thousand ships left a
daughter alone with a drunken father. Who knows? Maybe she did. My Greek mythology is a bit
rusty, as Mrs. Shultz wasn’t the most fascinating teacher ever when we studied it in class last
year. 

     The inside of our house wasn’t much better than the porch. More empty beer cans, full
ashtrays, and the dishes from the night’s dinner welcomed me back, which meant Dad was really
messed up. Being a retired Army captain, he’s anything but messy. The house was always clean
and orderly, sir! Unless he was drunk. And he never, ever smoked in the house. Something must
have really set him off. 

     I put my bag down and hung my coat in the hall closet. The sooner I picked this place up,
the sooner I could lock myself in my room and just crash. 

     “Oh…hey…when did you get in?” Dad asked as he stumbled inside from the backyard. 

     “Just now, actually,” I replied as I grabbed a trash can. Trying to avoid confrontation, I
walked around the kitchen and living room picking up the mess. Unfortunately, this only seemed
to irritate my father. 

     “Don’t do that. I’ll do it tomorrow,” he slurred. 

     “Dad, tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I need to clean up so I can attempt to cook this year. I told
you that, remember?” 

     “I know damn well what tomorrow is,” he grumbled. “You think I can’t remember what
tomorrow is?” 

     There was no use trying to talk to him like this. Instead, I handed him the trashcan and said,
“Fine. Have it your way. I was just trying to help.” 

     He didn’t reach for the trash can, so I let it drop to the floor and spill out even more evidence
of his drinking binge. At first he looked shocked, but that shock soon turned to rage. Maybe I shouldn’t have done it, but come on, who was the parent? I was sick and tired of trying to make
things better all the time when all he did was screw things up. 

     He just stood there, anger boiling inside him. I saw it in his eyes just before he snapped. He
kicked the trash aside and tried to grab my arm, but I stepped out of the way just in time and Dad
lost his balance and fell to the ground. He wasn’t hurt, though, just defeated. The look of failure
on his face as he lay there was almost worse than the anger. I reached out to help him up, but he wouldn’t let me.   

     “Don’t touch me! Just leave. Leave like your goddamn mother did,” he yelled. 

     “Come on, Dad. Let me help you,” I said. 

     “Get out! Get the hell out of my house!” 

      So I did. I grabbed my bag and coat and left. 

      Leaving the house like this wasn’t new to me. It’s not like it happened every day, but I’d
walked out quite a few times over the past couple of months so I knew where to go and how long
to stay away. The 24-hour diner on the other side of town was always open, so I figured I’d go
there and order myself a nice, greasy burger and a few sodas. I was hungry, and in a few hours
my father would be good and passed out. Then I would drive home and pretend that nothing ever
happened. Just like I did every other time Dad kicked me out.

BUY HERE  AMAZON   B&N

 

Both Sara Dailey and Staci Weber are avid readers,
English teachers, friends, wives and soccer moms. 

They have been teaching
together for the past ten years and writing together for six.

Born and raised in Houston, TX, Staci Weber is a
graduate of the University of North Texas. Staci is a junior high school
teacher with an addiction to reading romance novels. She considers herself
incredibly lucky to have a close family, some good friends, a fabulous husband
and two beautiful little girls.

Sara Dailey co-authored the Red Ridge Pack Novels with
her good friend and co-worker Staci Weber. She has a degree in literature from
U of H Clear Lake and is a graduate of The Institute of Children’s Literature.
Sara is a native Texan and lives with her wonderful husband and son in League
City, TX

ONLINE LINKS:

Blog
saraandstaci.blogspot.com

Website http://www.saraandstaci.com

Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sara-Dailey-and-Staci-Weber/102330932229

Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/TheRedRidgePack

Twitter  https://twitter.com/Sara_Staci

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17188539-circle-of-lies