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The Heartwarming Hearth

Join me at BTS Book Reviews ” The Heartwarming Hearth”. heaetwarming hearth Childrens book, amish romance, homeschooling, DIY, crafts, cooking and recipes. This new magazine is great for these genres. one of the first ones to separate these genres from mainstream! Be one of the first to be featured in this groundbreaking magazine. We have awesome specials going on right now. Buy 1 get two free!

The Heartwarming Hearth Facebook Group

Our debut issue will be April/May 2016. Ad deadline March 1st!!!

We have some great start up specials for new authors and publishers in these fields. Email Babs at or and we will give you our pricing and packages!! Don’t miss out on this great opportunity as we are one of the few magazines to offer this opportunity!!! Get your book out there!!!

We will also be featuring different columns and guest posts on the blog there. The new website address will be



My Thing For Dwarves-Guest Post by D.P. Prior

My Thing For Dwarves-Guest Post by D.P. Prior


 by D.P. Prior

 (editor, old school vaudeville strongman, and author of the new series,

Legends of the Nameless Dwarf)

 Dwarves in fantasy may be dour, beer-swilling, gold-digging troglodytes, but there’s no doubt about their importance in myth and folklore. In the Prose Edda, four dwarves (Norori, Suori, Austri, and Vestri) hold up the sky, and there’s even some scholarly speculation that the little folk may have had a hand in the creation of the first humans, Ask and Embla.

 The word “dwarf” (Old English dweorg, Old Norse dvergr) has been linked to the Indo-European root dreugh, which gives us the English “dream” and “trug” (deception), which has important ramifications for the dwarves of my own fantasy world of Aethir.

 Dwarves have been around in popular culture for as long as I can remember (my longterm memory is significantly better than my short, which probably has something to do with my dwarven love of anything that can be drunk from a flagon). The Brothers Grimm recorded the folk tale of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves as long ago as 1812. Tolkien gave us an ensemble of silly-hat-wearing dwarves in The Hobbit (1937), and Terry Gilliam’s Time Bandits (1981) had a band of chronologically challenged, diminutive treasure-seekers doing battle with evil.

 Dwarves are often associated with the deep places of the earth. It’s a connection that goes back to the Eddas and is a characteristic of the dwarves of Tolkien’s Middle Earth. In my own universe, the dwarves of Aethir are “created” by the scientist Sektis Gandaw in order to mine the precious ore, scarolite. However, there are darker and older secrets to their nature waiting to be discovered.

 I was always quite ambivalent towards Thorin Oakenshield and his companions in The Hobbit— they are often avaricious to the point of foolhardiness, although it would be hard to deny their bravery. Gimli, in The Lord of the Rings, is perhaps more likable, particularly in his score-keeping scene with Legolas at Helm’s Deep, and his hardiness in the epic battle in the mines of Moria, the quintessential dwarven environment.

 Something of a dwarf stereotype has developed over the years. Some of it comes from mythology, some from Tolkien’s feasting and drinking dwarves, and much from the development of the race in Dungeons and Dragons and Warhammer. Despite their often bellicose natures, dwarves tend to provide a touch of grouchy comedy to fantasy tales—“Nobody tosses a dwarf,” says John Rhys-Davies’s Gimli in the Peter Jackson film.

 Various subtypes of dwarf have arisen, numerous clans, but there is almost always an immediately identifiable quality of dwarfishness about them. Generally it’s alcohol, although dwarves are also very much bound up with axes, stoicism, and a love of shiny objects that have to be dug out of rock.

 I don’t know if it’s just me, but dwarves often have a flavour of Scottishness about them, so much so that a RPG figure I once painted for the Nameless Dwarf had tartan britches. Arguably, the trend was taken too far in Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit, but it’s been a staple of the Warhammer universe, perhaps epitomized by the character Gotrek. Someone once stated they felt the Nameless Dwarf was another Gotrek type. The funny thing is, the Nameless Dwarf has been around since 1979 (when there was no Warhammer), which means he predates Gotrek by nearly two decades.

 Back in the days when I belonged to the legendary Wargaming Society sequestered away at the back of the Archery recreation ground’s public toilets, I was in the unsavoury habit of playing Dungeons and Dragons with a crabby bunch of ne’er-do-wells. We had the back room of the club (the front was for serious gamers in the Napoleonics tradition). We painted the walls and ceiling black, let the cobwebs grow, and gathered around an enormous (black) table with six-packs of Jacob’s Club biscuits for endless campaigns that took us all the way to the Abyss and back.

 There were a few memorable dwarves among the players. One was particularly annoying (I forget his name). He was literally dripping with artifacts, was as indestructible as the Hulk, and had the “my axe is bigger than yours” personality type. The shogger had even been resurrected a couple of times. He just refused to go away. He did go away, eventually, though, when he took a pop at a certain dwarf with no name, who always had the luck of the gods on his side. Chopped the bleeder’s head off, and that was an end to the matter.

 Another player had a fat dwarf, aptly named Falstaff, but all I can remember of him is that he was always lagging behind so he could hit on the party’s only female (an elf of all things!)

 I pretty much always played dwarves. I tried other races, but the minute those characters were killed (and inevitably they were) I got straight back into my comfort zone.

 When my brother decided to DM a particular nasty orc-fest at the club, a super-party was assembled, and I realized I was going to need a pretty special dwarf to get the job done.

 That’s when the original Nameless Dwarf was created. He was nameless back then because he didn’t need any sort of personality. He was a tank, a hack-and-slash superhero. He was the dwarven Terminator (even before Arnold had first uttered “I’ll be back.”) Some time after his creation, I bought a miniature figure called The Dwarf with No Name—a cigar-smoking, gun-toting, poncho-wearing dwarf based on the Clint Eastwood character. It wasn’t quite appropriate for Nameless, but it was a cool figure nonetheless.

 Over the years, the character developed, but he also grew more and more powerful, and that’s never a good thing in gaming. Eventually, I retired him. Years later, I reinvented him, but that was when I learned the hard truth that roleplaying games are for people less imaginatively and cognitively challenged than an old codger like me. I shoved my polyhedral dice in the attic and left Nameless to the Void.

 Many years later, I gave him a cameo in my first fantasy novel, The Resurrection of Deacon Shader. Back then I was into being terribly, terribly literary and reducing all my characters to two-dimensional talking heads. I did the same with Nameless, although a lot of readers were impressed with his first appearance. With barely a word spoken, he scares the crap out of the hero, Shader, displaying some of that elemental violence he’d had as a D&D character.

 When I was staying in Chicago a few years ago I found myself at a loose end while my son was out catching frogs. I sat at a friend’s dining room table and resolved to write a Nameless short story to sell to a magazine. I wrote the 5000 word The Ant-Man of Malfen in one sitting and liked where the character was going. He had elements of Shakespeare’s Falstaff (Henry IV 1&2), Hilaire Belloc’s drinking, singing, and camaraderie, a crippling manic depression, and a smattering of David Gemmell’s Druss the Legend.

 Nameless has some of those stereotypical dwarven characteristics—the axe and the grog, but he’s also a rather unique, complex character who (importantly for me) has some surprising vulnerabilities.

 The story was accepted by Pulp Empire, but then I went on to expand it into a novella. It starts after the Nameless, under the influence of a malevolent black axe, virtually commits genocide. The survivors of his massacre in the ravine city of Arx Gravis flee across the mountains into the nightmare lands of Qlippoth. At last free from the axe, Nameless desperately wants to find them before it’s too late (no one comes back from Qlippoth). He hires Nils Fargin, son of a criminal guildmaster, to lead him to some rather shady contacts who may be able to help.

 That’s where the Chronicles of the Nameless Dwarf start—a guilt-ridden Nameless trying to find the survivors of his race, and knowing he’s the last person they’d want to run into. The series spans five books that take him on a journey with modest Sword and Sorcery beginnings to a truly epic conclusion.

The Nameless Dwarf books have benefited enormously from some great artwork. The first cover was produced by C.S. Marks. Subsequent covers in the first series were painted by Patrick Stacey. Russian artist Anton Kokarev came up with the iconic image of Nameless for the cover of the Complete Chronicles, which has consistently been my bestselling book, and has topped the fantasy charts on several occasions. More recently, Mike Nash, a brilliant English artist, accepted the challenge of producing covers for Carnifex (Legends of the Nameless Dwarf Book 1) and Return of the Dwarf Lords (Book 4).

 The Nameless Dwarf books began as a fun spinoff from the Shader series, which is much heavier epic fantasy. Something of Nameless’s old D&D luck must still linger, though, as the Chronicles have easily outsold all my other books put together. Either that, or it’s just a reminder that the little guys, in spite of all their vices, remain as popular today as they were in the days of yore.

 In 2015, I began work on a follow up Nameless Dwarf story, Return of the Dwarf Lords. Based on this, I was asked by my agent to put together a complete Nameless Dwarf story arc, and so I sat down to write the tragic origins story, Carnifex, and then put together Geas of the Black Axe from some material that originally featured in my Shader series, massively revised and told from Nameless’s perspective, along with approximately 60,000 of new material. Next, The Complete Chronicles were fully revised and became book 3: Revenge of the Lich.

 The new books were released in January 2016. You can find out all about them at:



 For more than a thousand years, the dwarves have hidden away from the world in their ravine city of Arx Gravis.

 Governed by an inflexible council whose sole aim is to avoid the errors of the past, the defining virtue of their society is that nothing should ever change.

 But when the Scriptorium is broken into, and Ravine Guard Carnifex Thane sees a homunculus fleeing the scene of the crime, events are set in motion that will ensure nothing will ever be the same again.

 Deception and death are coming to Arx Gravis.

The riddles that preceded Carnifex’s birth crystalize into a horrifying fate that inexorably closes in.

 But it is in blood that legends are born, and redemption is sometimes seeded in the gravest of sins.

 For Carnifex is destined to become the Ravine Butcher, before even that grim appellation is forever lost, along with everything that once defined him.

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Upload Blog Tour-Guest Post The Origin of a Character

Today, I’m welcoming Collin Tobin, author of Upload. Pull up a chair of your choice, grab a beverage from the bar, and enjoy this fascinating read about the Origin of a Character.

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The Origin of a Character: Bennie (from Upload)

Since I was young, I had always day dreamt I was born with some specific, secret malady that my parents kept  from me. I’m not sure why I wanted this—perhaps to excuse myself for an occasional bad grade, for laziness, for my tendency to lose myself in thought? Or perhaps instead I had hoped, as with all Hollywood-born handicaps and injuries, this vulnerability would somehow translate into something like a superpower? Maybe it would mean I would eventually pitch a baseball at 120 MPH? Maybe I would to be 1,000? Anything might happen.

But in the end, I lost the courage to hope for such a secret curse. After all, I had a big enough challenge already that didn’t seem physical, but purely mental: intense and inexplicable shyness. My parents readily confessed to having a hard time with this affect, but they remained eternally loving, patient, and forgiving throughout. As a brief example, my father once volunteered one morning to drop me off at preschool. Once. Minutes later we both returned home defeated, my father sheepishly working his way back up to our sidewalk with me in tow, eight in the morning on a Monday, to my mother’s crossed arms and shaking head.

So naturally, later in early grade school, when I found myself routinely plucked out of the middle of class to go to seemingly unimportant, sedate field trips with three other kids, I figured I had been placed in some kind of special needs group for the socially challenged. We’d take extremely mundane trips in this woman’s minivan to feed the surly geese at a local pond, take extremely hesitant nature walks through the woods in November, or boost the annual attendance to Massachusetts’ least popular museums by 100%. An aura of awkwardness, fear, but also cautious wanderlust pervaded the group. Later, I felt nostalgic for these outings when watching McMurphy and fellow patients on their field trips in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. These weren’t trips a self-respecting field trip coordinator would organize. But I took these trips in stride, and somehow caught up on, or was forgiven, the missed assignments.

It wasn’t until I was well into my teens that I learned I wasn’t included in this group to work on my shyness, or any other of my pet social ineptitudes. Almost as an afterthought, my mother told me she had been approached and asked if I could join this group because I was shown to be a friendly, peaceful, and unintimidating presence. The group was indeed a collection of socially challenged students, and I was somehow thrown in as lubricant. Apparently, I was social tofu. But because of this prolonged exposure, I developed a taste for such personalities, these misfits, these characters.

After this experience, I actively searched out these people, throughout my schooling and the rest of my life. This is where the social gold lay: on the sideliners. I sought out these quiet, introspective kids, the outcasts that routinely mocked for being different. These were the kids that had developed into truly interesting people, almost out of pure necessity. They had to be self-entertaining. There was the kid I found trapped under the gallows of the jungle gym, openly sobbing with his hands shoved in his pockets, surrounded by a circle of larger boys who were kicking dirt on his brand-new neon orange sneakers. There was the boy routinely mocked on the playground for being plagued with spontaneous nosebleeds and intense allergies, who sneezed out bloody snot that he unselfconsciously allowed to hang like crucified snails from his cheeks. Okay, not everyone had something to offer. There was the quiet boy in class that interacted with no one, and no thing, except his precious colored pencil box and drawing pad. As I eventually learned, chances were, if I befriended these kids, and gained their trust, whole new worlds would open up to me.

This is Bennie Welch from in Upload. My main character, Jay Brooks, has befriended Bennie for exactly the same reasons. Bennie exposes Jay to new worlds: the underground world of computer hacking, rave parties, what it’s like be handicapped, what it feels like to be truly lonely, and finally, what it means to be passionate about something by sharing with Jay his pet project, which you’ll discover in the book, that he’s named after the Greek personification of memory: Mnemosyne.

Bennie is an amalgamation of all those odd and interesting friends I’ve made in the past; all those interesting, self-possessed, cast-off people. But just as with the software and hardware Bennie likes to play with in his lonesome basement, I’ve made some upgrades to these people. Why not, since I can? Bennie is a bit too brash. He’s also a bit too cocky for his own good. Also, he refuses to meekly accept his social station along the sidelines. Lastly, Bennie possesses a keen sense of righteousness and justice, and along with it, to back those ideals up, more courage and loyalty than any of us could truly expect from ourselves.






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Greetings fellow bookworms!!

Today I’m turning my blog over to Amy Lignor for a Guest Post.

Grab a drink from the bar and pull up a bean bag chair and enjoy. There is a great giveaway going on with this blog tour. Enter the Rafflecopter form below



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The Summer ‘Cottages’ of the ‘Four Hundred Club’

Miss June ignored his remarks and continued her ‘who’s who’ tour of American society. “Now, Mrs. Astor never liked the Vanderbilt family. She thinks they’re basically businessmen – a very common lot. But Alva Vanderbilt built a stunning cottage in Newport, Rhode Island that rivals Beechwood. It’s absolutely huge. I’ve never been inside, but from what little I could gather from Mitchell, the thing is massive. Supposedly every room is filled with crystal, bronze statues, and expensive works of art…”

In Gilded Wings, as the angel/warrior team find themselves taking a journey through one of the most famous times in American History. this is the first we hear of the stunning summer ‘cottages’ that the elite of the Gilded Age owned. Back then, the women focused on throwing parties that made them the most famous and beloved; whereas the men became captains of industry – sometimes by very underhanded means.


Newport, Rhode Island was the ‘summer’ scene for the elite and pompous. Here, they would build houses to rival one another, with each female of the family wanting to make sure theirs was the grandest, most opulent of them all. In fact, the two most famous heads of household at the time – Mrs. Astor and Mrs. Vanderbilt – kept their competition going for quite some time. Vanderbilt’s mansion – The Breakers – was built with only the best; marble imported from Italy and Africa, plus rare woods and mosaics from countries around the world filled the place. And what upset Mrs. Astor the most was that, “if the Gilded Age were to be summed up by a single house, that house would have to be The Breakers,” seeing as that it was the largest, most ‘gilded’ house at the time.


Beechwood was Astor’s mansion; the home that Emily and Matthew find themselves entering in order to mingle in the famous Beechwood ballroom. Not only does Emily have to deal with the fact that she’s walked into a world she doesn’t understand, but here she must also face the fact that two very important men – her warrior/partner and her first love – are standing beside her glittering far more brightly than the excessive gold that seems to line every wall and rest on every table.

Built in 1851, Beechwood was the ‘show place’ for many of Mrs. Astor’s dinner parties. From a library to a dining room to a music room with wallpaper that was imported from Paris – the house had it all. After her son, John’s, death on the Titanic, the house was passed on to his widow who turned the entire third floor into her walk-in closet. (Yup, that’s the rich!)

The house – like everything in the Gilded Age, boasted two sides – one where the rich family lived and then the servant’s side, which included kitchens and quarters, as well as an area for the children to live.

Trust me, it’s a whole lot of fun to see the angel/warrior team surrounded by this ‘tacky’ opulence that still has never gone out of style.

Don’t believe me? My Dad was a caretaker on a very wealthy property in CT. The wallpaper in the dining room was hand-painted and imported – scenes of a fox hunt with bloody fox carcasses hanging off their horses. Can you imagine eating dinner in that room?

Until Next Time, Everybody,



She hid behind Drew when the door opened revealing a white-haired man on the top step. His face was pinched and his nose was wrinkled, as if he was having a hard time breathing in the night air. “Parrish.” His voice was as cold as the wind.
“Ah, another warm welcome. You never disappoint. Good evening, Brighton.”
“You are late. The household has retired.”
“As I hope you will one day very soon, old man.” Drew pushed his way over the threshold. Keeping a strong hold on Anya’s wrist, he dragged her in behind him, as she pulled Gregori in last, making him stumble with her sudden forceful movement.
Drew’s voice sounded angry in Anya’s ears, “Mr. Carrow knows we’re coming. He sent back word to me on the Island this afternoon.”
“He thought you’d be arriving quicker.”
Anya’s stomach churned at the man’s blatantly disgusted tone.
“I doubt that,” Drew’s usual soothing voice rose an octave. “He knows I stay there until the very last American is processed through.”
“Record numbers again, I suppose?”
Anya could make out the sarcasm embedded in his well-educated accent. It was as if she could feel her soul cringe, feeling as if she’d gone up against a bristling, snooty servant once before.


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Gilded Wings Summary

The Beloved Angel-Warrior Team from Until Next Time Returns!
When Matt and Emily are sent on their second mission they have no idea how truly dark human nature can become…
Emily never wanted to face humans again. With the heartache that went on down below, she’s still trying to figure out how to save souls that don’t deserve saving. The only one she wants to see again is Jason – the young man she fell in love with who became the soulmate she simply can’t forget…
Matt was trained to protect and defend the souls down below. Longing to feel the heartfelt emotions that come from being human, Matt wants nothing more than to have just one life – one chance – to live and love the girl of his dreams…
The powerful team find themselves in a brand new century, living in the Gilded Age of New York City. Emily takes over the body of Anya, a young Russian girl who arrives on Ellis Island after a hideous tragedy. There she meets up with a strangely familiar young man by the name of Drew Parrish, who helps Anya survive in an unknown world of luxury, snobbery and…obsession.
What Anya’s inner angel doesn’t know is that the soul she loves is also back. This time around Jason goes by the name of Max Carrow. Once a quiet and kind boy, he’s now part of the ‘Four Hundred Club,’ and wants nothing more than to be among the most admired as he climbs the shaky ladder of society’s elite.
As two worlds merge, Emily and Matt struggle under the weight of their “Gilded Wings.” Not only will they have to figure out who they should fight to save, but they must also face a romantic choice that could destroy them both.


Amy Lignor’s Bio:

Amy Lignor began her career at Grey House Publishing in northwest Connecticut where she was the Editor-in-Chief of numerous educational and business directories.
Now she is a published author of several works of fiction. The Billy the Kid historical The Heart of a Legend; the thriller, Mind Made; and the adventure novel, Tallent & Lowery 13.
She is also the owner of The Write Companion, a company that offers help and support to writers through a full range of editorial services from proofreading and copyediting to ghostwriting and research. As the daughter of a research librarian, she is also an active book reviewer.
Currently, she lives with her daughter, mother and a rambunctious German Shepherd named Reuben, in the beautiful state of New Mexico.



ISBN: 9780985792220
ISBN: 9781301335541
Pages: 275
Release: November 1, 2012
Gilded Wings: The Angel Chronicles, Book 2 buy links:
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Until Next Time: The Angel Chronicles, Book 1 Summary

How does a girl choose between the one who steals her heart and the one who owns her soul?
Matt and Emily were created for a specific job. Raised and trained as the ultimate angel/warrior team, they are sent down to save, defend, judge and forgive, depending on the ‘life’ they’ve been assigned. What they don’t realize is that the power of human emotions, such as love, anger, passion and fear can take over even the best of souls, causing them to make mistakes and follow paths that lead to confusion and heartache.
When the reason for their training is finally revealed, the angel/warrior team find themselves thrust into a world they know nothing about. Matt takes over the life of Daniel, a young man with a great deal of baggage. Emily becomes Liz, a girl living in a remote village who relies on nothing more than her own strength to survive. A violent storm erupts one night, and framed in the window of Liz’s establishment is a frightening face. Let in by the soul of a Good Samaritan, the two visitors bring with them a past full of secrets that could literally change an angel’s path and a warrior’s plans.
From murder to redemption, this angel/warrior team must find a way to keep the faith they have in each other in a world that’s ripping them apart.

Until Next Time: The Angel Chronicles, Book 1 buy links:
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Nook buy link – $4.95

iBookstore buy link – $4.99

Smashwords buy link – $4.99

PDF buy link – $4.95


team jason

team matt


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Today, I’m welcoming J.D. Watts with a guest post on Crazy Writers. Please grab a beanbag chair and something from the bar and enjoy this great post by J.D. Watts.






    I am so grateful to live in a world where there is such a profession as creative writing. If not for this socially acceptable creative outlet, many of my author friends and I would probably already be admitted to the nearest asylum. Eccentricities such as talking to yourself out loud and acting out certain scenes of your story, either alone or with a partner, is par for the course. I mean, what other job in the world do you know that lets you play pretend all day as a part of research?

      I love being an author! I really and truly do. I don’t think I ever truly fit into the world until I found my niche in writing and it has been such a blessing. I was always super creative, but I didn’t have much of an outlet for my energy. My art skills are atrocious. I’m serious! I’m lucky if I can pull off stick figures and as I now also work as a preschool teacher, I’m constantly running across the hall to ask my artist friend to help me fix whatever given art project I’m trying to do with my class that day. It’d be pathetic if it weren’t so funny. I’m an average singer and did a little acting in school, but I was never a great star. My dancing is about as ridiculously horrible as my handmade art skills. For most of my life, I had the amazing ideas and images in my head, and no way to express them.

    Always a bit of a chatterbox, I’ve also always had a very active imagination and extremely vivid dreams. I don’t know why I never really put the two together until I was thirty, but it just never seemed to work out. When I first started out, it was rough. Even though my grammar was sketchy and my sentences were essentially a series of run-ons, I loved every minute of it. I loved the daydreaming and the crafting, and the finding new and creative ways to explain something. What started out as fun soon became a passion and that became a dream that I still find it hard to believe eventually became a reality. Every day I find myself so grateful for the joy I get from being able to express my creativity and share it with the world.  Thank you for taking the time to read a little about me and possibly check out my labors of love and creative energy.







The 2010 TWCS Original Fiction Contest winner for best young adult story, JD Watts, began tiptoeing into the world of creative writing by building on books, movies, and television shows, thinking of alternative endings for the beloved characters.
As an adult, she indulged her creative whims, eventually getting involved in an online community of amateur writers who supported her stories. It is through both the encouragement of her friends and family, as well as her friends through the online community, that she journeyed into her own imagination and penned her first novel in her new series: Children of Creation: Convergence. The Children of Creation Series will have three novels. The second book, Induction, is scheduled to release September 2011.
JD holds a degree in Christian Education through Lincoln Christian College, as well as a degree in Psychology through the University of Illinois at Springfield.
In addition to her love of writing, JD loves movies, music, reading, and spending time with her loved ones. She lives in Central Illinois where she is a wife and stay at home mother of a young son and daughter.








TIDE BREAKER BLOG TOUR-11/27/12 TO 12/27/12










The Tide Breaker by Sonya Watson


Once upon a time, there was a sixteen year-old girl that lost both her parents under unusual circumstances. Abrianna was lonely and found some comfort in the arms of her boyfriend, Michael. Life turned grim when she realizes that a man, who was once the enforcer of fate, wanted her to die. The disgraced enforcer had taken great steps to ensure Abrianna’s death and planned to do this by enlisting the help of humans and creatures without their knowledge. Evil had washed over the land the humans named Dainesville. Abrianna had the power to heal the land and when she did she would return prosperity to the lives of the townspeople. When the time came for Abrianna to stand alongside her half-brother, Stephen, to fight the coming evil she did so without hesitation. Life ended. Darkness fell. Love faded. The End?

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The Wendigo Chronicles

My Mother Made Me Do It

June 18 1999

I was a solider in my mother’s army. Her anger was a plague that took hold of the wendigos under her command until their hands were sullied with the blood of the innocent. The mother that was meant to protect me from harm stained my soul and froze my heart. I was hollowed out bit by bit when I walked the path of a dutiful son until I saw her. The sun had kissed her darkened skin, her tightly wound curls were golden brown and her dark brown eyes filled me to the brim with joy. Love was a constant companion until my mother discovered my treachery and ordered me to kill the girl. I did what I could to distract my mother but she was driven by envy and she wanted the girl dead so I sought the advice of a shifter. Jonathan told me of a fairy that could take hold of my mother’s mind and lead her down a path of forgetfulness.

I willing offered my mother to the darkness. Cyric extended the hand of friendship which caused my soul to tremble for I saw through his sinister intentions. The creature was no fairy. He told lies through his feigned smile and promised the safety of Abrianna as he swept pieces of my mother’s sanity away.

The thought of plunging a sword into my mother’s back allowed for guilt to run rampant throughout my soul. Sleep was carried on the wings of remorse and sadness gnawed at my innards until they ached so I sought the help of Cyric once more. The creature requisitioned the powers of a gorgon in order to turn my heart cold for thirteen years. He wiped Abrianna from my heart and attempted to do the same with my mind. His triumph was brief for when I set my eyes upon the deep blue sky, felt the lush grass tickle my feet and caught the scent of strawberry blossoms I remembered.




Author Bio:

 Sonya was born in Mandeville, Manchester, Jamaica but moved to Canada eleven years ago. She discovered writing when she was eleven. However, was unable to pursue it since she lived in a country where writing was impractical. She rediscovered the art during third year at York University. Kinesiology, the program she was enrolled in, was no longer simulating and found herself questioning her purpose in life. This led her to poetry and poetry led her to writing novels.



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Sleigh Read Tour 2012 Guest Post Stop-Mari Farthing

Greetings beautiful readers, today I’m welcoming Mari Farthing to my blog for a Guest Post. She is the author of Midnight Troll in the SOMETHING WICKED: SHORT STORIES anthology. Sit back and grab a drink from the bar.



Buzz Books Sleigh Read

I love winter. I love when the air gets that snow smell in it, when you just know that it’s going to happen sooner rather than later. Cold weather moves my blood, rejuvenates me. I grew up in the northern state of Wisconsin and I’ve always loved winter. But there’s nothing like a still, cold night to make you feel alone … but not quite alone … maybe alone but … watched? Those still winter nights, when the wind isn’t blowing and the stars are shining bright because the cold just seems to amplify them, it’s easy to feel like there’s some strange crackle in the air, something a little creepy perhaps, just out of reach.

Like, you know when you’re a homeless teenager and your whole family has been murdered by trolls (yes, trolls) and you’ve found out that you’re part of a family who has a long history of hunting trolls (yes, hunting trolls) and you think you might have finally found someplace safe but you’re starting to second guess yourself?

No? You’ve never felt that? Well, Rainey has. She’s the troll hunter at the center of the story, MIDNIGHT TROLL, found in the Buzz Books SOMETHING WICKED anthology. After spending time on the street trying to avoid trouble, trouble lands at Rainey’s feet. However, she also finds allies in Lauren and Dexter, who help her to realize her destiny as a troll hunter–and help her to find her family’s true fate.

I know what you’re thinking: why trolls? Well, I say why not? How many trolls have you read about that don’t live under a bridge or something? I think trolls are truly an underserved supernatural species, and it was time for them to have their day. They’re not really the heroes of the story, so I’m not entirely sure that the trolls would share the same opinion, but any publicity is good publicity, right? And I think the trolls are pretty excited about the publicity as they’ve been ignored and oppressed for far too long.


It was dark–really dark–on that street. I chose the car for that reason, thinking I could rest undetected, but being trapped never occurred to me. My skin crawled, just like it had all those nights in the doorways, just like it did in my dreams and I had that creepy feeling like something was watching me, something was not right.

SQWAK! The door I rested against just moments before ripped open and a thick voice yelled “Where is she!?” It sounded like the speaker was yelling through a mouthful of pudding. Gross. Whoever that pudding mouth was, he was looking for me. My heart began to thud.

“No!” another voice yelled. I felt the car rumble as it shook, more struggling and the sound of something loud skidding across the ground. I reached down when it thunked against my shoe and found a heavy length of chain. It would have to serve as my protection.

Rainey learned a lot about staying safe and during this holiday season, she likes to keep a low profile. She stocks up on books, snacks and plenty of water (you’ve got to stay hydrated and healthy if you’re going to keep moving). And in celebration of winter and stocking up on books and reading, BUZZ BOOKS USA is sponsoring SLEIGH READ, where for a limited time you have the opportunity to purchase a Buzz title for yourself (including the afore-mentioned SOMETHING WICKED, perhaps) and then get a FREE second title to keep for yourself or gift to a friend. Just click [] for all the details.


Bio from Mari’s Amazon Page

Mari Hestekin is the pen name of editor Mari Farthing. She is a long-time lover of words and is thrilled to make her fiction debut with the short story “Midnight Troll” in the YA “Something Wicked” anthology (October 2012, Buzz Books).

When not writing stories that may or may not involve trolls, she spends her time editing stories, books and her children’s school work. Mari is also a local parenting magazine editor. In her spare time she cooks, knits, runs and contributes to various and sundry blogs about things which matter to her, including (but not limited to) books, music, writing, editing, parenting, pop culture and general absurdity.

Mari lives, writes, edits and dances with impunity with her husband and two children, who supply no shortage of drama from which to pull stories.

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