Blog Tour: Sonar the Cyclone

New Adult / Sci-Fi - Fantasy Romance

Date Published: 7/3/2015

   Is your destiny determined by what the future has foretold? Or is fate deemed in the hands of what you behold?


     The Royal 4 are now back on their home territory of Nazari, determined to get things back to normal. Syira’s forbidden love is being held captive. She is hell-bent on fighting for him despite the immense obstacles. She must find a way to convince her race that Kadeem is not dangerous. Their threat lies from deeper within.
     Shiray has accepted her past and is moving forward with her life, but it comes back to haunt her tenfold. That all changes when she stumbles across the truth. Now, she must pick up the pieces of her shattered life.
     They are in the calm but know when they approach the dirty side of the Cyclone storm, terrible things will unravel. The future is revealed and they get a glimpse of Fate’s course. Time is not on their side. They must attempt to change their destiny or their world will be doomed.

Excerpt

 Elm’s Forest Ambush

Chapter 15 (Excerpt #2)

 

    A thundering sound ricocheted through the air. “Did you guys hear that?” I asked, glancing up into the sky.

    “It’s the Polars!” Symone shouted.

    “Everyone take cover!” Cessar yelled as two Polar ships dove down from the clouds. They engaged fire and I dived to the ground. I grabbed my laser from my belt holster and crouched next to Symone. Cessar was in front of us protectively. Jonathan was still on board my ship and retaliated, unleashing the ship’s lasers. Cessar, Patel, and I shot our guns. A few moments later, August and several other Kadanans from his ship joined in the crossfire. 

    “We have to get to our ship!” Cessar yelled.

    “That’s going to be difficult!” I screamed back.

      Polars beamed down from their ships. This was so not good. We were vastly outnumbered.          

    They were firing non-stop, making it impossible for us to move. I closed my eyes briefly. I love you, Bryan, I thought. Why did I come out here with only a handful of my crew? I didn’t bother to notify Nile, or anyone else, which went against protocol. I’d let my anger mislead my judgment. I honestly didn’t know if we would survive. I hadn’t been this scared since the war at Cambridge Estates. The Polars closed in on us and combat fighting broke out. They were using their powers, and we followed suit. Cessar executed lightning bolts from the palms of his hands. Others were using their telekinesis. One male Polar began spurring needles from his hands. Symone took a nosedive as needles flew past us. I dropped my laser but jumped to my feet swiftly as they charged from the side.

    “Shiray, watch out!” Symone screeched. 

    I spun and elbowed a female in her throat. She stared dead at me with her dark brown eyes glowing. She smirked, then opened her hand and conjured a flame of fire. I acted quickly and warped her ass with pain. She fell to her knees but was still able to throw the flames. I dodged in the nick of time. Before I could get up, she had another ball ready. Symone drop-kicked her in the head and she was out cold. Wow! Symone had moves. She needed to enlist in our militia. Another male attacked Symone from behind. I didn’t have time to help because two more were on me. And Cessar was brawling with several of his own. A female with blond hair punched me in the mouth. I spit out blood. Then lunged to the ground to retrieve my laser and blasted her. She flew back and landed with a thud. As she took her last breath, the glow around her eyes vanished and her body went limp. A male assailed me fast. The golden glow around his blue irises was blazing. He attempted to shoot me, and I kicked the laser from his hand. He pounced again, and I couldn’t get out of his grasp. He yanked my arm and pinned it behind me, forcing my gun to fall. I yelped. He stood behind me and pulled me against him.

    “On second thought, I think I will keep you as a hostage. You’ll be my little treat,” he whispered. His warm breath against my neck gave me the creeps. I tried to mind warp him, but it didn’t work. Huh? That had never happened before.

    “Your mind tricks won’t work on me, sweet-tart. I have mind field powers. I can block any warp.”

     He ran his hand over my bosom and clutched it. His hand slipped behind me and he tightly clasped my fundament. “I will kill you for violating me. You son of a bitch!” I struggled against him.

    “Oh! And a feisty mouth, too. I’m going to have fun taming you,” he taunted, nipping my earlobe. “The hell you will!” Sick Bastard! I rammed my foot into his knee cap and heard it pop. He shrieked but recovered quick. He put both of his hands around my neck and started to strangle me. My chest burned; it was hard to breathe. I reached deep within, to the core of my being, and I felt myself penetrate his mind force shield. His blue glowing eyes dilated. Yeah, pervert, so much for your no-holds-barred mind field record. He released me and grabbed his head, yelling. Blood gushed from his nostrils. I snatched my laser and was about to fire, but I heard screaming. I turned, panicked, looking for Symone. The woman who was yelling had just gotten electrocuted by Cessar. I sighed. Unfortunately, mind field pervert had escaped.

    Symone was fighting yet another male Polar. She delivered one of her super kicks and he went back, but he retaliated and aimed his laser. I sent a warp of agony his way, but he’d executed the shot before I could stop him. Symone attempted to scramble out of the beam’s path, but was grazed on her side. 

    “Symone!” I screamed. 

    She cradled her side, her face scrunched in pain. Just then there was a deafening bang, accompanied by bright flashing lights. The Polars had blown up Symone’s ship and the blast sent me soaring through the air. My head hit the asphalt hard when I landed. Everything went black. 

     B Truly has wanted to be an author since she was fifteen years old and grateful to have accomplished this dream.  She has very vivid dreams and a wild imagination. She likes to read, watch tons of TV shows, and movies. She is addicted to romance and gets a thrill out of action and suspense. She writes New Adult, Fantasy, Sci-fi, and Paranormal-Romance. 

     In the Sonar series, B Truly said "it was fun to explore different elements of Sci-fi romance and create various realms of powers for my characters. I want to show my readers that Sci-fi can be fun, but also traumatic. I hope you guys enjoy the Sonar Series."

     B Truly has three wonderful children and a husband who defines the person she is today. She works full-time as an Ultrasound technologist in Sugarland, Texas.

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Prizes:

$15 Amazon giftcard, 1 Sonar The Cyclone photo magnet, 1 Sonar pen,  and 

1 e-book copy of Sonar The Cyclone (mobi, e-pub, Pdf)

For all readers and hosts who participate. This question comes from one of the 3 excerpts that are posted on the tour. 

Make sure that you follow the tour and have read all 3 excerpts to be able to answer the question.

What is the name of the character that showed Syira the premonition?

Comment on any of the blog stops during this tour with your answer to be entered to win! 

Blog Tour: The Black Swans

Fantasy / Paranormal Romance

Date published: March 2015

Taisie MacDonnell is a quiet girl who loves knitting and Celtic music. When a traditional Irish group moves to her small town of Antrim, Maine, she's thrilled. And that the handsome pipe player she met at a fair is one of the band members makes it all the more exciting. 

Conn McLaren and his siblings that make up the band, The Black Swans, are wanderers, moving from place to place. They have a secret that they must hide, a curse they have been under for many years, placed on them by the Fae at the behest of their step-mother, Aoife. 

Taisie has no idea that becoming involved with Conn, the handsome pipe player, will enmesh her in magic, a centuries-old enchantment and pursuit by the Fae. 

This book is a modern retelling of the old Irish story "The Children of Lir".

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N.W. Moors lives in Portland, Maine, the land of lobster and pine trees. She grew up in Connecticut and retired north(it's nice along the coast in winter). She's a voracious reader and avid traveler - she loves to visit Great Britain and Ireland. Researching trips meant that she tries to learn as much about the area as possible and listen to great Celtic music. She's also a knitter and hiker/walker with two cats(the cats don't walk).

She truly appreciates you sharing this adventure with her. She will continue to write about magic, love, and the small town of Antrim, Maine. Please leave reviews and like her Facebook page or follow her blog or twitter feed for further updates. 

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PROMO: Inside a String

Poetry / Short Stories / Essays

Date Published: June 2014

Inside a String is a collection of Poems, Essays, and Lyrics of one man's take on the human element of America from the Beat movement of the 50's to the Counter Culture of the 60's thru the 'X' and 'I' generations, “Delivered in Spoken Word, Prose and Transcendental and Spiritual Abstract.”

MacLear, along with his singing partner, Heather Waters won Best Country Song 2014 by the Hollywood Music In Media Awards for last summer’s U.S. Country Radio Favorite: ‘SOMEDAY.’

EXCERPT

Mediterranean Calls

Yellow_ teasing_

broken_ alabaster_

Basted blue in a closed pewter pot

Cut the hands of the blade

pour slow the anger

And mind the pages when they’re hot

Slow_ are the mindless minutes after the

‘sorrow’s flight’

…The light’s fine in here, so’s the beer

Yesterday is just a melted muse of lectures_

leering at the multitudes_

_draped ‘long side an overcoat

she wore in another time

About the Author

Award winning songwriter, producer, entertainer and poet Tom MacLear has captured a span of life from the east to the west in his new book, Inside a String. Those familiar with Hemingway, Kerouac, Ferlinghetti, Dylan and Ginsberg will enjoy the “Beat” flavor of the poetry in this book as well as some of the more simple, straightforward attacks on our hearts and our senses. These poems speak to the reader and take us on that wonderful journey from the depths of city life in NYC to the beautiful coastlines of California and everywhere in between, wherever our minds choose to travel as we take a magical ride with poet, Tom MacLear.

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Blog Tour: The Tempest

Thriller / Suspense

Date Published: 7/28/2015

Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers

James Lilliefors's unlikely detective duo, Pastor Luke Bowers and homicide investigator Amy Hunter, return in a new murder mystery set in Maryland's picturesque Tidewater County

Tourists like Susan Champlain pass through the Chesapeake Bay region every year. But when Susan pays Pastor Luke Bowers a visit, he's disturbed by what she shares with him. Her husband has a short temper, she says, and recently threatened to make her "disappear" because of a photo Susan took on her phone.

Luke is concerned enough to tip off Tidewater County's chief homicide investigator, Amy Hunter. That night, Susan's body is found at the foot of the Widow's Point bluff. Hunter soon discovers Susan left behind clues that may connect her fate to a series of killings in the Northeast, a powerful criminal enterprise, and to a missing Rembrandt masterpiece,The Storm on the Sea of Galilee.

Whoever is behind the killings has created a storm of deception and betrayal, a deliberate "tempest" designed to obscure the truth. Now Hunter and Bowers must join forces to trace the dangerous secret glimpsed in Susan's photo. But will they be the next targets on a killer's deadly agenda . . . ?

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Excerpt

Prologue Spring “Miracles. What can I tell you? In a skeptical world, if a real miracle occurred, it wouldn’t even make the evening news. Who would believe it? This one, though, will be different. This one, the skeptics won’t be able to explain. People will want to see for themselves; they’ll line up around the block to have a look. That’s what we need to talk about.” Walter Kepler watched his attorney’s own skepticism harden slightly as he waited on the details of Kepler’s plan. Jacob Weber was used to this, to Kepler’s Barnum-like enthusiasms as he introduced a new idea. Weber had precise, dark eyes, a narrow face, bristly white hair cut close to the scalp. Seen from behind, he could appear as small and fragile as a child. But he also possessed that rarest of human qualities—consistent good judgment; unerringly good, in Kepler’s estimation. As presented, Kepler’s plan consisted of three parts: A sells a painting to B; B sells the painting to C; and C (who was Kepler) uses the painting to bring about a “miracle.” The first two parts of the plan he would handle himself, with the assistance of Nicholas Champlain and, of course, Belasco. It was for third part that he needed Jacob Weber’s help—needed his judgment, and, ultimately, his skills as a negotiator. Kepler had been formulating versions of this plan in his head since he was a boy, trailing his father through the great art museums of the Northeast and Europe, stopping to stare at some painting or sculpture that, his father insisted, was not only an important work but also a masterpiece. With time, Kepler had learned to tell the difference, to understand why certain paintings—like certain people, and ideas—held greater intrinsic value than others. He had spent much of his adult life refining that understanding, through the storms of sudden wealth, divorce and the more mundane trials of daily living. When he finished telling Weber his plan, Kepler turned the conversation to the painting. He watched Weber’s face flush with a new interest as he described the masterpiece that had dominated his thoughts for the past three weeks, ever since he’d ascertained that it was the real thing. The tempest. Fourteen men trapped on a boat. Each responds differently to a life-threatening storm: one trying valiantly to fix the main sail, another cowering in terror from the waves, one calmly steering the rudder. Fourteen men, fourteen reactions. Kepler imagined how his attorney would react once the waters began to churn in another several months. Then Kepler sat back and let Jacob Weber voice his concerns. They were much as he had expected—candid, well-reasoned, occasionally surprising. Kepler managed to fend off most; those he couldn’t, he stored away. “So what are we looking at?” his attorney asked. “When would it need to happen?” Kepler glanced at Weber’s right hand, absently tracing the stem of the coffee cup. It was a pleasant April morning, the bay shivering with whitecaps. “Late summer,” he said. “August, I’m thinking.” His attorney thought about that, showing no expression. Calculating how the plan would interrupt and impact his own life, no doubt. Jacob Weber finally closed and opened his eyes. He nodded. “It’s do-able,” he said. After a thoughtful pause, he added, “Actually, I kind of like it.” Weber’s response would have sounded lukewarm to an outsider. To Kepler, it was a hearty endorsement. In fact, he had never known Jacob Weber to be quite so enthusiastic about one of his ideas. All in all, it was a very good start.

About the Author

James Lilliefors is the author of the geopolitical thriller novels The Leviathan Effect and Viral. A journalist and novelist who grew up near Washington, D.C., Lilliefors is also the author of three nonfiction books. The Psalmist and The Tempest are the first two books in the Luke Bowers and Amy Hunter series

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PROMO: The Color of Life

Women's Fiction / Coming of Age

Date Published: June 21, 2015

When 23-year-old Claire Soublet arrives in New York City to begin her new life, she has no idea that after only four days a situation will arise forcing her to return to New Orleans. Growing up mired in years of hardship and being abandoned by family through death and disinterest, she manages to scratch and claw her way out of that life. And in the process, get a college education. Back in New Orleans and not ready to succumb to her old life, she enlists the help of her high school friend. They devise a plan to, once again, get Claire out of her hometown. With their new-found relationship, they return to New York together.

EXCERPT

Chapter One

The 1878 yellow fever epidemic in New Orleans claimed my mother Cecile when she was

only twenty-five leaving behind four children - my older sister Aurelia was nine, I was five, Philomene was three, and my brother Augustin wasn’t yet two - and if the two babies born between Aurelia and I had lived, there would have been six of us left motherless.

Sanité, my father’s mother, took care of us until she died three years later. My grandmother was a very kind and gentle person. She was a Choctaw Indian who never sat in a chair or slept in a bed. She spent most of her time sitting, squatting, or sleeping on the floor. The only time I saw her standing was when she was cooking, cleaning, or leaving the house to go to the market.

Even after the “Tignon Law” was abolished in 1843, Sanité still wore the madras kerchief to cover her head. She taught our mother how to wrap it to cover her hair and told her how the law came about as Aurelia and I watched and listened. The law was passed in 1786, she told us, and it forced free women of color to cover their heads with the same type of kerchiefs the slave women wore. The Governor was determined to tighten control over the non-Whites in the city to please the White women who felt threatened by the beautiful, free women of color who had relationships with White men.

Before the undertaker came to pick up my grandmother’s body, my father removed the tignon; her waist-length, coal black hair came tumbling out. He wept as he tied a shoestring at the top of her long thick plait. He cut it off, touched it to his lips, then wrapped it with the kerchief in a pillowcase and tucked it away in a drawer. “There,” he said as he pulled her now shoulder-length hair from behind her ears and gently combed through it with his fingers, “you will not be buried with your head covered.” My father threw his body across his mother’s and sobbed without shame. Aurelia, Philomene and I fell on top of him and cried just as hard.

I could not fully understand why my father showed how much he cared about his mother in death when he’d never treated her kindly when she was alive; I was left confused. I’d heard him tell her how ashamed he was of her – of her being Choctaw. He hated having inherited her tan skin and shiny black hair. His blue eyes came from his French father, Etienne Menard.

I think only Aurelia was old enough to appreciate that our grandmother was finally free from the hardship and prejudice she’d had to endure. She told me even though my father was crying because his mother was dead, he was also happy she was finally at peace. I, too, came to understand this many years later when I looked back on it.

My grandfather, a hunter and a trapper, spent most of his time in the swamps and the bayous. He often traded with the Indian tribes who lived where he hunted. He found Sanité among the Choctaw and brought her to New Orleans to live with him. She was already twenty-four and none of the men of her tribe wanted her for a wife. She was shunned and considered taboo by the men and the women because she had been born with a dime-size black mole in the center of her forehead. Only the children and the very old treated her with kindness.

New Orleans laws forbade Etienne to legally marry Sanité, but Father Guillard secretly heard their vows in the rectory at St. Louis Cathedral.

Etienne bought a small house in the Tremé section and had two children with Sanité. When Pauline was thirteen and my father Christophe ten, Etienne disappeared. Sanité and her children didn’t know if he’d been killed or if he’d returned to France without telling them. Without a legal marriage, who could Sanité go to for help? For years they waited for him to come home, but they never heard from him again.

Etienne Menard did two decent things before he vanished. He legally left the house to his children and he taught them, as well as Sanité, to sew. He was a tailor in France before coming to America. He taught them how to make a man’s suit from the collar to the hem of the pant legs. And this skill was their saving grace.

Pauline, who was blond and blue-eyed, became a passablanc. She was tall for her age and looked much older than her fifteen years. It took several weeks of walking around uptown in the business section of the city to find a place that was willing to trust her with piecework she could do at home. Stern Brothers, a men’s store on Dryades Street, though reluctant, gave her a few trial pieces. When she returned the half dozen sets of coat sleeves, Mr. Stern was so impressed with the quality of the sewing that he gave her steady work. Pauline brought the pieces home and Sanité and Christophe helped her sew them together. At first they worked on only suit coats, then suit trousers, and eventually they were making whole suits. They survived more than four years on what they made from the piecework and from what Sanité made at the French Market selling the herbs she grew in her garden.

About the Author

Claudette Carrida Jeffrey, a native New Orleanian, is a retired teacher who lives in Northern California. The Color of Life is her second book of four in the Claire Soublet Series. A Brown Paper Bag and A Fine Tooth Comb (2012) begins the coming of age story of Claire Soublet, a young Creole of Color, growing up in 1940s and 50s New Orleans.

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PROMO Blitz: I, Kidney

Literary Fiction / Family Saga

Date Published: December 2014

Joe Zizzi's childhood in the 1950s had everything a kid could want--pro athlete dad, wonderful mom, cool big bro. When the '60s kick in, this ideal life is violently shaken: a car crash claims his mother's life and his father's career, and brother Matt becomes distant and disturbed. Over the years, Joe learns to cope and carves out a niche for himself as a college sports star, and later as a coach and writer, but he can't quite shake the family legacy. Diagnosed with kidney failure, the semi-pro husband and devoted dad has life-and-death decisions to make--and life wins, though perhaps only by a slim margin.

EXCERPT

It can’t be possible. I can't possibly have PKD. Dad wasn't symptomatic until he was about seventy or so. Here I am, I'm not much past fifty and here I am. I know with the spring term being on, I had to start coming out with it. I told the players about my condition. I’d done this in the fall also, telling them I wasn't well, but this term I told the kids the first meeting, complete with the official name for the thing. I told Sr. Frances about my condition. I told Father Arsenio about my condition. The word gets around, and the parents are all talking to me. My colleagues are beginning to avoid me. I sense distance once I let them know what was happening and the word starts getting out.

        I'm on a low-protein diet, and I'm fatigued, having trouble sleeping. Between the low-protein and the little sleeping, I'm in a lot of trouble. An opposing coach catches me looking like I’m nodding out at the game. The opposing team is snickering. The kids win it for me; I’m the human interest story. They've probably never seen classic movies in their lives, but they're winning for me—the coach needs an operation! The kids are of course involved in normal real-time culture. They've named me J-Ziz and I accept it as the awesome name that it is. They worry about me. They want to know about the food restrictions. Sometimes I'm busted when they catch me eating the bad stuff in my office, which I do on a regular semi-regular basis. My standard speech is, “I'm not going to be one of these ‘do as I say, not as I do’ types with you. I'm on the straight and narrow a lot. But it's taking some getting used to. I gotta fall off the wagon sometimes or else (a) I'm not going to be human, and (b) I'm not gonna be happy." I'm entitled to this dog or murder-burger or whatever.

About the Author

Chris Six is a New York-based writer and the recipient of somebody else's kidney.

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PROMO Blitz: Your Chakras and You

New Age / Self Help

Date Published: July 2015

This recording is a meditation to cleanse the Chakras. The relaxing narration guides the listener to gently dwell on each Chakra area and visualize each of them. Focusing and sending healing energy to each Chakra allows them to function normally.

This meditation was developed because there is a need to understand the Chakras and the importance of the energy they control in each person. These energy center can become under or over emphasized in life due to stress and tension. When they are not functioning in a normal manner they can cause emotional, spiritual and physical discomfort. The narration in this meditation is designed to assist in relaxing and creating an atmosphere for healing.

About the Author

John Cappello is an internationally renowned psychic medium from the North Texas area. He has been working in the area of evidential mediumship since 1997 and gives comfort and validation to those suffering from the loss of a loved one. He has demonstrated his work on many radio and television programs and has appeared on America’s Spookiest Homes on the HGTV Network. John travels around the country appearing at various metaphysical outlets providing workshops, public demonstrations and private readings.

He is certified as an “authentic” psychic medium by the American Federation of Certified Psychics and Mediums. He is an internet radio talk show host for the program Beyond Metaphysics on the Inception Radio Network and author of the award winning book, Open the Mind Exercise the Soul. The book has been recognized as a finalist in the adult non-fiction category at the North Texas Book Festival in 2013, the winner of the New Age category for the 2013 Next Generation Indie Book Awards, a finalist in the New Age category at the International Book Awards in 2013 and was a finalist in the New Age category at the USA Best Books Awards in 2013. It was the most awarded psychic development book in 2013 in the United States.

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