About you.

Name:
Ivan Amberlake

Website:
http://www.ivanamberlake.weebly.com/

Other contacts/social media sites:  

Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/ivan.amberlake

 Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6907727.Ivan_Amberlake

 Twitter:
https://twitter.com/IvanAmberlake

Link to Amazon page and or any other place that your books can be purchased:
Amazon US Kindle: http://amzn.com/B00B7TG2DC


Amazon UK Kindle:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00B7TG2DC


Where did you grow up?
I grew up in Belarus, in a small, quiet town with a rich history and beautiful architecture. 

 
When did you start writing?
During my post-graduate course I had way too much free time, and I thought I should try something I’d never tried before. As I am an avid reader, the idea of writing my own book always appealed to me, so back then was a favorable time for me to start writing. 


What made you start writing?
Mostly the question of “Will I be able to write a book?” was what made me sit and type my first sentences. I got really excited when I realized that I can write something longer than a short story. From then on I kept sitting for hours and typing more and more. That was really exciting experience for me.

 
Is it something that you have always wanted to do?
To tell you the truth, I detested reading until the age of 15 when my English teacher offered me to read the first Harry Potter book. Writing a book was never on my mind until my university years, but I must say once you start writing a book, it’s difficult to stop. Now it’s what I really want to do, what I need to do, although there is often everyday life in the way.

 
What is your favorite genre to read, and do you have any favorite books or authors you would like to recommend?
I really enjoy urban fantasy and crime/thriller books. Too difficult to speak about favorite authors and books, there are too many of them. Right now I’m reading Velocity by Dean Koontz, and I’m rather enjoying it. 
 

What about to write?
Definitely fantasy with a paranormal twist. I also have an idea for a crime/thriller book, but I can’t say if I will ever get to writing it. I need to finish Books 2 and 3 of The Beholder Series first, then get to something new.

 
Do you write full time? If not, what do you do?
Unfortunately, no. Most of my day I teach English classes: morning, evening. I have only a couple of hours during the day, and an hour or two late at night, so finding even a few minutes for writing is
bliss.


Do you ever base your characters on anyone that you know, or are they solely from your imagination?
In most cases, my characters are partially based on the people I know. That helps me see them in a clearer way. But I never just took a person I know and inserted him/her into my novel. Perhaps I should do that sometime. It must be fun actually.

             
About your book                 
            

Tell us about your latest book. The story/plot.  
My debut paranormal fantasy novel, THE BEHOLDER, is an action-packed, fast-paced story set in modern-day New York. Here is the description:
 
Worlds of Light and Darkness are about to clash. And Jason will be in the thick of it.

In Asunción, Minsk and Sydney, people die under mysterious circumstances. Each branded with an arcane sign, they are pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. When more people are missing, with similar signs appearing in and around their homes, Jason, an average New Yorker, realizes the victims are a riddle addressed to him.

He is the final piece.

Emily appears, the most beautiful woman with extraordinary powers and startling amber eyes, and tells Jason that powers dormant within him are about to wake. In the world of Lightsighted and Darksighted, he is the only person who can prevent Darkness from enslaving the world. He is the Beholder whose advent has been awaited for many years.

Setting out on a journey with Emily, Jason discovers many improbable things like Sight, Soulfusion, the Hall of Refuge, but the greatest surprise arrives the moment he falls in love with Emily.

 
What gave you the idea?
There are a few threads in the book, and each of them is based on my ideas of the world around me. First of all, I always was intrigued by the idea of getting my mind into someone else’s body. That’s what Jason, the main character, is going through in the book.  


What genre is it?
Urban/Paranormal
Fantasy/Romance


Who is your favorite character?
I enjoy writing about all of my characters, good and evil. I love them in different ways. Jason, Debbie and Matthew, they are like siblings. Tyler is a very mysterious character, mainly because of his appearance and backstory. Emily is charming and irresistible. These characters are all different, therefore I enjoy writing about them so much.


And worst?
I’m not sure I can write about someone I don’t like, so I’m not sure if I have such characters. I think it will be up to the readers to decide if they like or dislike my characters. 


What are your hopes for it?
Every writer wants his or her book to become a best-seller, right? Well, I do believe that I have a marketable novel, and all I need (as most of us do) is a little push at the start, mainly from people who don’t know me. I’m going to make my Kindle book free on Amazon and Smashwords soon, and if people leave their reviews on my book and give their honest opinion, they will help me get closer to that dream.


What’s the next project that you’re working on?
I’m working on two books right now. One of them is Book 2 of The Beholder Series called Path of the Heretic, and the other one is a YA Paranormal Fantasy called Diary of the Gone, which is about a boy who has to write in his diary to ward off the dead that keep haunting him. Not sure if this is going to be a novel or a novella, but I must say my wife and my friends really like the idea of this book.


What’s the best piece of advice that you have been given in regards to your writing?
A friend of mine, Yannis Karatsioris, once advised me to put my characters in hell, and make them find a way out of this hell. It was one of the best pieces of advice that inspired me to add more action (more chapters actually) into my book than there used to be. So put your characters in impasses then let them find a way out of there. That’s what people like reading about.


To check out Ivan Amberlake's debut Paranormal Thriller follow the links below to Amazon.com!

Amazon US

Amazon UK

 

The Messenger - Sammael's Lost Memory

Seventeen years was not enough time for my immortal soul to forget the stench of war.  My next life had already begun but while it was still in it's infancy, again I heard the message my father plied upon the mortals.  Again words of peace and love and brotherhood reached my bitter ears. 

Again I was compelled to meet the messenger. 

The year was 1962.  The place was Albany, Georgia.  I told myself I would not be drawn into this mission.  I only wished to see if this was my father's hand at work.  What I found was a chance to redeem myself to one I'd wronged many ages ago; the only soul I'd ever met in more than one lifetime.  And I embraced that chance.  That small redemption meant so much that I even agreed to uphold the messenger.  But there is no limit to the cruelty of my existence.  

Now I only wish to forget.

A glimpse into the novel...

THE MESSENGER

 

            I flew a long way. The trip was a number of nights and I’d expended even the strength I’d stolen in my rage and grief.  I longed only for the solitude of this place I came to for shelter between my false lives and the time to forget.

            I considered remaining a raven for a while longer, there was far less conscious thought in that form, there was mainly instinct.  I might have even enjoyed the disruption to my self-loathing had exhaustion not been a greater priority.  

            I approached my door under the dense black cover of a moonless night where I took my loathsome earthly form and entered, but immediately I knew I was not alone.

            “Why are you here?”  I asked the darkness.

            “She asked me to check on you.  She did not think you would want to tell her about it.”

            “I had hoped she did not see this time.”  I sighed.

            Raphael laughed.  “Evangeline sees all when it comes to you, Brother.  Do you wish to tell me what happened?”

            “No.  My anger is too deep.  I came to rest and to hide again until it is time to take on my next guise.”

            “You know my strength, perhaps I can help you.”

            “I ask for nothing.”  I told him, turning away.

             “I know.  Yet, I would give what I have freely.” he answered gently, which only inflamed my bitterness.

             “Do you not see, Raphael?”  I said angrily, turning on him.  “I would wish more than anything to destroy the bond between you and our father, make you bitter as I am.  I wish his ending and the destruction of all things.  I wish nothing but hate upon all creation.”  I said venomously.

              “What happened?”

              “He destroyed that which I wished to save.  He took redemption from me with no mercy even as I tried to help his messenger.  I wish with every ounce of the spirit within me to annihilate him.”

            “That is not your wish, Sammael.  I know you.  You are an Angel, the last son of the Glory of the Father.  You wish to return to him, to our home.  You wish to return to Evangeline,” he reprimanded.  But then he looked at me appraisingly. “You are the taker of souls, and yet you do not take them indiscriminately, nor even consistently.  I should think if you felt nothing but hate you would be much more devious and perhaps more vicious.  I suspect someone touched you this time.  You made a connection,” he said laying his hand upon me. 

            I did not answer him.

           “Sammael, I remember what it was like.  I am sure my brief experience was far different from all you have done and seen, but I remember what it was like to care for someone.  Come, tell me what has befallen you.”  Raphael whispered as his warmth spread though my overtaxed body and my will to hold on to my pain drained away leaving me exposed and riddled with guilt.

            But my desolate soul spilled its tale.

            For more, look for your FREE ebook copy on Monday 5/13/13 at the link below.

            Smashwords.com

Breakwater Harbor Books is excited to announce the limited time FREE PROMO of Melissa Simonson's newest Crime Thriller, Hazard Pay! Simonson is best known for her hit Thriller/Horror novel, Doubles, and this is her third release. For a taste of this addicting new author, read the pitch and exerpt below!

Allison and her brother Miles have been on their own as long as they remember, but they’re not doing badly— they’ve got two million in an overseas account. The downside is that how they make their living is illegal.

The second drawback is Reid.

A lie seals her death warrant when Reid decides it’s high time for house-cleaning. She escapes with the aid of an unlikely partner, but Miles isn’t as lucky.

Bobby—Allison’s savior—tells her to run. It’s what Miles would have wanted. He’s right. But she can’t leave and allow her brother’s murderers to carry on with their business.

Murderous vengeance isn’t healthy, Bobby says. It’ll lead her to a very dark place. Maybe she’d pay his advice more mind if he weren’t enforcement for a drug kingpin.

She doesn’t know when she’ll feel whole again or if it’ll ever happen, but there’s one thing she wants before worrying about the healing process: blood.

EXCERPT FROM THE
BOOK

ONE

The same tired song kept playing on the radio, but I didn't want to change the station and mess up my brother's presets.  He was touchy about his things.  I didn’t blame him.  I was too.

“I know what you're thinking, and forget it.  I like this song.”

“I did too, before they played it a thousand and five times every hour.”

I felt Miles roll his eyes, though I couldn't see him. 

“How much longer?”  I knotted my arms over my seatbelt.  “It's been goddamned forever.”

“It's been twenty minutes.  Relax.”

I scowled.  He knew I hated being told to relax, but it didn’t stop him saying it. “You should tell these assholes to be on time for once.  This is bullshit.”

“They make the rules.  They can be three hours late. Nothing we can do about it.”

I puffed out a sigh, jiggling my knee.  “Nobody believes in punctuality anymore.  When I say I'm gonna be somewhere at eight, I'm there at eight.”

Miles switched off the ignition.  “Shut up.”

“I'm just saying.”

“Pardon me for laboring under the delusion that you didn't believe in anything.”

I had to grow up way too fast.  We both did.  There was nothing for me to believe in except rules dictated by common courtesy.  Like punctuality.

I’d have told him as much, but a car rounded the corner into the parking lot we’d been stationed in for the last twenty minutes.  The headlights flooded our Chevy’s interior, and through my own slitted eyes I saw Miles flinch as well.

The car pulled up beside ours and killed the lights.

Miles didn't move, and when I turned to face him, he gave me one of those, 'well what are you waiting for?' expressions.  He looked pathetic with that black eye, and I wondered when it’d fade.  He'd gotten it nearly a week ago.

“What?”

“I thought you dealing with him this time.  Bryan's an asshole.  He likes you better since he's a perv.”

I heaved a melodramatic sigh, grabbed the plastic container by my feet, and wrenched the door open.  “You're a real crybaby sometimes,” I told my brother, before slamming it shut.

Miles was right.  Bryan was an asshole.  And it pissed me off he drove a car worth a hundred K when we were in a run-down Chevy.  We could have bought a decent car since we had enough money but Miles quashed the idea as soon as I'd uttered it.  He thought nice cars were pretentious, screamed LOOK AT ME, and he didn't want to draw attention to ourselves.  He was probably right.

I shifted the container on my hip and stopped at Bryan's door.  He rolled the window down and peered out at me.

A smile split his face.  “I haven't seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, well, I've been busy.”

“Doing what?” 

I rustled the container's contents.  “What the fuck do you think I've been doing?  It doesn't make itself.”

“We got a scale in the backseat.”  The man in the passenger’s seat elbowed Bryan.  “Check the weight.”

 “You wouldn’t lie, right?” He asked me with a steely smile, a quiet menace slithering through his voice.  Bryan looked jolly, like an overgrown teddy bear, but I knew better.  I’d seen him plunge a screwdriver into someone’s eye a week ago, the same day he’d given my brother that beautiful shiner.

“I don’t have any reason to.  It’s just business.  Never lied to you before.” 

He chuckled and turned to the man beside him. “Get the lady the case.” 

Bryan dug in his breast pocket and unearthed a piece of paper as Felix came around with a suitcase.

“We dumped our phones.  You can reach me at this number now. Might be a good idea to ditch yours too.  Avoid whatever fallout might happen.”

“Fallout of what?” I asked as Felix thrust the suitcase at me. 

“Cops been cracking down harder than normal.  Can’t ever be too careful.”  His engine roared to life and his car rolled forward a few inches.  He smiled again. It looked pretty phony in my professional opinion.  “Tell your brother I said hi.”

***

I dropped bags of groceries onto our kitchen table.  The microwave clock ticked over to ten p.m.  About time for the weirdos to come out and play.  Scottsdale was chock-full of freaks.

I shrugged out of my jacket and slung it over a chair.  “We need to get out of this.  I’m sick of Bryan.”

Miles took his sweet time unpacking cartons of yogurt.  He didn’t meet my eyes, standing there separating my flavors (strawberry and chocolate) from his (key lime pie and lemon meringue). “We will soon.  Whatever he meant by ‘fallout’ can’t be anything good.”

No kidding.  ‘Fallout’ meant getting caught.  Getting caught would land us in jail, and I doubted I’d survive a prison sentence.  I had a hard time knowing when to shut up, and I didn’t think I’d be able to handle being separated from Miles. 

He unscrewed the cap off a jug of milk and drank from the carton.  A trickle slid down the dimple in his chin.  There was a reason we bought two different jugs each trip to the grocery store.  My brother was a pig.  Most people thought we were twins, but I was glad we weren’t.  If he was a pig outside the womb, I didn’t want to know what he was like inside one. 

Miles wiped the residue off with the back of his hand.  “We’ll figure something out.  I’ll try to talk to Reid.  Find out what’s happened.  Bryan’s not exactly brilliant.”

I chewed my lip.  “Let’s move to Aruba.  You can fish all day.”

“You knew there’d be some consequences.  There’s repercussions with everything, especially in this business.  We’ll get out when we can.  And you don’t eat fish.”

More complications.  It wasn’t something I’d planned on since we’d been doing well as of late, so all I could do was shrug half-heartedly.  He was probably right.  He usually was.   I turned my back and upended another grocery bag.  

“I want you to visit Mom with me tomorrow.  It’s almost her birthday.” 

I chucked a container of cottage cheese into our refrigerator so hard it burst open, the plastic film splitting down the middle and vomiting curdled milk.

“You go.  I’m staying home.”

He sighed and sank into a seat.  “When are you going to let it go?  She’s different.  I can tell.”  The kitchen lights bore down on his chestnut hair, auburn strands morphing into crimson. 

I pushed my sleeves to my elbows and retrieved a sponge from the sink. “She’s always been a good actress.”

“That’s not fair.  Drugs screw people up.  You know that, seeing what we see every day.”

“I was never stupid enough to use in the first place.  Neither were you, and we had plenty of opportunities.  I don’t want anything to do with her.”

He let me win.  Miles knew when to accept defeat.  Plus I screamed louder than him, and my raised voice gave him eye twitches.

“One day she won’t be around.  And you’ll wish you’d gone to see her.”

“When that day happens,” I told him, aiming a vicious swipe at a sludgy trail of cottage cheese, “I’ll give you my cut.” 

I heard the smile in his voice, even with my head stuck in the fridge.  “An extra three hundred thousand’s nothing to sneeze at.  Deal.”   

***

When I slumped into the kitchen at seven a.m., Miles was mysteriously absent.  He normally didn’t make it out of his bedroom until noon when I turned the thermostat to HELL to smoke him out from underneath those Star Wars bedcovers.  He’d never make it to night classes otherwise.   

He left a note on the kitchen table, but only half of his cramped scrawl was decipherable.  Something about visiting Mom. Maybe he still thought of her as ‘Mom’ but the tamest thing I’d called her was Vicki.

He’d propped a photograph against salt and pepper shakers.  A yellowed one depicting our family when we were solid, unblemished.  Before Vicki started using, when she looked happy, and when my father was alive.  Miles and I were chubby toddlers in near matching attire, born sixteen months apart.  He was older, which I supposed was the reason he thought he was Head Bitch in Charge.

We had the same hair, a wavy chestnut.  Exactly the shade of Vicki’s, but life in jail had likely turned it gray.  Not that I cared.  She ruined her chances with me the day she got so twacked out she decided to stab our father forty-seven times with a steak knife.

Miles remembered the incident better than I did.  He was five, and had been the one to dial 9-1-1.   I was four, and did nothing but stand there whimpering at the ocean of blood on our kitchen floor while our mother stood at the sink, humming Pop Goes the Weasel as she rinsed the knife off.

Understanding his unconditional love for that woman was something I doubted I’d ever be able to do, though I figured males—normal ones anyway—always had a soft spot for their mothers.  I only had a soft spot for Miles and iced peppermint lattes.

I turned the snapshot face-down and plunked the salt shaker over it.  Miles would have gotten mad if I’d torn it to shreds, the way I’d done with all the other old pictures.

“Fuck you,” I said, and turned to brew some coffee.

The counters were piled with thick wads of cash Miles unpacked the previous night.  I hated math, anything to do with numbers, so he’d nominated himself treasurer of our little family operation.

My cell phone buzzed, connected to its charger beside the money.  I turned it sideways to view the caller I.D.  Bryan.

He didn’t wait for my ‘hello’.

“Your product was light yesterday,” he told me over some horrific techno song in the background. “I don’t like being lied to.”

I cradled the phone between my shoulder and ear.  “It wasn’t when I weighed it.  Maybe some of your co-workers have been dipping into the stock when you’re not looking.  Terrance looks pretty shady.”

“It went straight from your hands to mine.  Either your scale’s broken or you’re a liar.”

I dumped a scoop of coffee grounds into a filter.  “Look, if it’s light—and it’s not, because I checked—then it was an honest mistake.  We’ll make up for it next time.”

“Mistakes are still mistakes, and I think you know pretty well Reid doesn’t give out many second chances.”

“I think he’d make allowances since it’s not likely you’ll find much better.  Everyone else’s shit sucks.  And they’re tweakers.”

“I’ll be in touch.  Reid’ll decide what to do about this.”

I pressed the power button, and the coffee maker puffed to life.  “When am I gonna meet him, anyway?  Miles has.”

“He won’t deal with women.  They’re too emotional.”

“I think I should sinceI keep hearing his name thrown around.  When can you make that happen?”  It was hard to keep the pent-up frustration from my voice.  I knew we couldn’t meet everyone involved; it was for our own protection, but it didn’t stop me from being annoyed I’d been kept in the dark on certain aspects.

His laugh was a soft, secretive one I was long used to hearing. “Probably sooner than you want to, honey.”

“I’m not your ‘honey,” I spat, but Bryan had already disconnected.

***

Miles wasn’t back by the time I needed to hit the road, so I left without him.  He took the train when he visited Vicki, so the piece of crap Chevy was still in our assigned space, baking under Arizona heat. 

“I hate you,” I told it, before climbing inside.

Miles and I based our operation in a storage facility owned by a guy he’d met at some bar.  We rented the north block of units to keep the smell at a minimum, and Jimmy falsified records so they reflected renters of different names. 

The storage facility sat in an industrial center, next door to a factory that belched foul vapors morning, noon, and night.  The odor was disgusting but helpful when it came to masking the acrid steam Miles and I made while cooking.

Jimmy lounged in a swivel chair when I swung into his office.  He didn’t lift his gaze from the television mounted on the wall.  “It’s pay day.”

I rolled my eyes, slapping a few belted wads of hundreds on the counter next to his phone.  “Don’t I know it.  You remind us every day how long it is till pay day.”

The constant reminders were one of his more annoying habits, but we paid him to look the other way and go about business like nothing illegal took place right under his nose.  In the event he got incarcerated, we’d agreed to shell out a flat one hundred thousand as hazard pay so he wouldn’t decide to spill his guts to a pushy cop about who he worked for.  But even if he did, all Jimmy had were our first names.  Miles and I were the only people he dealt with.

Jimmy looked around when a commercial interrupted the Mexican soap opera.  He didn’t speak Spanish so why he watched them remained a mystery, though I suspected it was because the women wore next to nothing. 

“Where’s Miles?”

“Why do you care?  All that matters is you get your money.  And you got it.”

“Miles is a little more nice.”  He thumbed through wads of cash with lazy fingers. 

“Miles is better at being fake.”

He waved an airy hand.  “Tell him I said hi, then.”

“Tell him yourself next time you see him.” I pushed the swinging door open and headed for the northern block of units. 

I held my breath upon entering because the smell made manure pleasant, and groped in my purse for a surgical mask.  When I’d locked the door behind myself, I checked on the latest batch drying in baking sheets.

Smashing it to bits was probably my favorite part of the cooking nightmare.  Thick, long shards were one of the things our meth was known for.  That and its ice-white color.  One of our foster brothers had been a cook, and he’d taught Miles the ropes.

Foster care was good for something.  We wouldn’t have six hundred thousand dollars in the linings of our mattresses, beneath floorboards, and hidden our apartment walls without Foster Brother Eddy.  When I aged out of the system I came to live with Miles, and our operation snowballed from there. 

Eddy worked with us in the beginning until a meth lab exploded and gave him third degree chemical burns.  He died in the hospital.  Miles made us wear stupid hazmat suits from then on. 

I tapped the mallet over the smooth surface, and the impact sent rippling cracks through the dried meth.  When the bulk had been broken up, I slipped on a pair of latex gloves to examine it.

Miles insisted on gloves, too.  Apparently you’d still fail a drug test if you handled meth with bare hands, since skin absorbed the chemicals.  I always said the probability of our being subjected to a test was low because we weren’t involved in selling, rendering it unlikely we’d get caught in the middle of a deal.  And then there was the fact that Miles and I hid under covers of being college students scraping by on our respective FAFSA grants and an inheritance from our grandmother.  

I was dumping shards from the baking sheet when my ass started buzzing.  I ripped the gloves from my hands, pulled out my phone, and answered. 

“Take your mask off,” Miles said.  “I can barely hear you.”

I peeled it off and balled it in my fist.  “Where are you? When are you getting back?”

“Don’t you want to know how Mom’s doing?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

He sighed.  “I should be at the train station in a few hours.  I’ll call you when I’m pulling in.  I’m gonna need you to pick me up.”

I threw the slanted metal scraper down on the workstation. “When the hell did I become Mary Fucking Poppins?  I gotta clean the apartment since you’re a slob, break up this batch, pay off Jimmy the Idiot, and come pick you up?  Call a taxi.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Takes one to know one,” I told him, though he’d hung up on me. 

Why does everyone hang up on me? I fumed, snapping the mask back on. 

***

The apartment was empty by the time I made it home.  I dropped my purse on the counter and blew out a sigh.  The job of stashing money and cleaning up had fallen to me, as per usual. 

My call to Miles’s cell went unanswered, and I figured he was still irritated about our earlier conversation.  For someone who claimed to be a burgeoning mixed martial artist, my brother acted more womanly than me.

I sprayed Windex over the counters and wiped the tile in lazy spirals, wondering whether I should be worried.  Did trains get into accidents often?  I’d never been a passenger on one since I’d eat my own face before visiting Vicki. 

The clock struck eight p.m. by the time I started to freak.  How likely was it something bad happened?  Hadn’t I already reached my lifetime tragedies quota? 

“You’re being an ass, you know,” I told his voicemail on the fifth unanswered call.  “If you’re trying to teach me a lesson, fine, you win.  I’ll come get you.  Call me back, for Christ’s sake.”

The line disconnected me after a few more choice swears, so I slammed my phone on the kitchen table.  Immediately after I did, it buzzed with an incoming call.

“Where the hell are you?” I yelled.  “And don’t give me some line about no cell service.”

The voice on the other end laughed, and it sounded nothing like Miles.

“Who the fuck is this?”  I demanded.  “Put my brother on.”

“My name is Reid.  I’ve heard a lot about you.  Your brother’s sitting right here.”

For more of this addicting Crime Thriller follow the link below to Amazon.com!

http://www.amazon.com/Hazard-Pay-ebook/dp/B00CFT5EWS/ref=sr_1_4_title_0_main?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1366464200&sr=1-4&keywords=melissa+simonson

Hidden in the Pages is an upcoming work by Breakwater Harbor Books author Mindy Haig.

When his mother unexpectedly died just before Christmas, Jantzen Burke's world fell apart. He lost his father to his grief and the cold grandfather he never knew came to stay. Lonely and afraid Jantzen looked to his grandfather for some comfort, but instead of sympathy he was given a journal with a magical power; the power to find his perfect match.

A decade later, Jantzen's life is in status quo. His time is spent running the company his father signed over to him, finishing his education and maintaining an empty house. His only companion is the stranger who writes back to him in the journal, the person he's promised his heart to though he's never seen her face. 

But one day an accidental meeting changes all he thought life had planned for him. Suddenly comfort wasn't enough. A decision had to be made. Would he break the promise he'd made and take a chance on love or was his fate tied to the words in the journal?

Follow the links below to Mindy Haig's debut novel, The Wishing Place, and get in to a great read today!

Barnes&Noble.com

Amazon.com

The Wishing Place was magical. You went to sleep and you could be there, if it chose to take you. On those lucky nights you could do anything you wanted. You could have anything you could think to ask for. You could even see the future. But what if you had to wait 16 years for the vision to become reality?

Valerie Porter was a lonely little girl. Her world fell apart when Granny passed away and her parents troubled marriage ended in a bitter divorce. Her only solace lay in Granny's fairy tales and the secret Granny had shared with her alone - the secret of the Wishing Place. 

Granny said what The Wishing Place showed was real and would happen. She promised Valerie that there was true love out in the world meant for her. But a promise wasn't much to hold on to when Valerie became an unwelcome stepchild. 

One night, Valerie asked The Wishing Place to show her something special - something  really important. What she got was an eight-year-old boy named Nickolas Rossi  who was everything she could want in a friend. But was he just a dream or could  he fulfill Granny's promise and make happily ever after a reality?

Barnes&Noble.com

Amazon.com

A quick get to know the author!

Five facts about you that people won’t know about you. Can you juggle? Ride a bike with no hands? Drink beer upside down? Something unusual… GO!

Well, most of the unusual things about me are the reason people who know me, know me!

1. I Have amazing recall for names and places. 

2. I can find someone I know everywhere I go. (Seriously) Airports, other states, Disney world...

3. I was a DJ in college, also technician for college basketball broadcasts at Rutgers

4.  If you tell me something can't be done, I will go to great lengths to prove it can.

5.  I can jump rope pretty darned good!

Five facts about your newest book that people won’t know. Some background history on one of your characters maybe? Maybe it was going to be called something completely different to start out with? Is it the same genre it started out as?...

1. Nick's early chapters are based on my son Who was almost 9 when I started writing it - not the character himself, but his speech patterns.

2. The Wishing place itself is based on a recurring dream I had when I was a child.         

3. My favorite character was Levi Bonham.

4. Apache Velasquez got his name from an email I was copied on at work.

5.   The sequel to The Wishing Place, called:  The White Room is about Nick and Valerie's children.

Five facts about your next book… Name, genre, expected date of release…

1. The novella prequel to Glory, called: The Messenger, is going to be available for free download this month!

2. I am a mythology lover, so there are a lot of references to various myths and folk lore in my books.

3. The flashback to Bethany is based very loosely on the Gospel, supposedly written by Judas.

4. In Glory, the house Dominic lives in is a real house, one town away from my home town.

5. In Glory, every name Sammael uses has meaning to him. Arrio Dominic Thanos roughly means warlike prince of death.

Three tips that you think might be useful for other authors… anything you want. It could be, to write a certain amount every day, only write after midnight and never get Gizmo wet (Sorry, that’s Gremlins not writers! My bad.) Maybe it’s some information that was given to you that has helped your process…

1. Write about things you are interested in.  Doing the research helps ward off writers block.

2. Jump around in the story as you write it.  If you have a great idea for a later chapter, draft it!  If you wait until you get to that point, you're likely to forget the ideas, but if you write them when you have them, you can build the story up to that event.

3.  Do your homework.  Small details draw the reader into the story.

To enter The Wishing Place, click the link below to Amazon.com.

The Wishing Place

The Wishing Place was magical. You went to sleep and you could be there, if it chose to take you. On those lucky nights you could do anything you wanted. You could have anything you could think to ask for. You could even see the future. But what if you had to wait 16 years for the vision to become reality?

Valerie Porter was a lonely little girl. Her world fell apart when Granny passed away and her parents troubled marriage ended in a bitter divorce. Her only solace lay in Granny's fairy tales and the secret Granny had shared with her alone - the secret of the Wishing Place.

Granny said what The Wishing Place showed was real and would happen. She promised Valerie that there was true love out in the world meant for her. But a promise wasn't much to hold on to when Valerie became an unwelcome stepchild.

One night, Valerie asked The Wishing Place to show her something special - something  really important. What she got was an eight-year-old boy named Nickolas Rossi  who was everything she could want in a friend. But was he just a dream or could  he fulfill Granny's promise and make happily ever after a reality?

About you.

 

Name:  Mindy Haig

Contacts/social media sites: 

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/mindy.haig

Twitter: @mindyh101

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00CJF2UY8

Amazon UK:  http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B00CJF2UY8

 

Links to Amazon page and or any other place that The Wishing Place can be purchased:

The Wishing Place is available in the iBooks store for Apple

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/The-Wishing-Place-ebook/dp/B00BNHQ9FE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1366979407&sr=8-1&keywords=The+wishing+place

Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/291257

Barnes and Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-wishing-place-mindy-haig/1114821406?ean=2940044363649

Kobo:  http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/The-Wishing-Place/book-V8r31uCxjEan9VfR4dLWBg/page1.html?s=86ph2bumekaRly5hR7jkWg&r=1

Sony eBookstore: https://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/mindy-haig/the-wishing-place/_/R-400000000000000988391

 

Where did you grow up?

I grew up in Saddle Brook, New Jersey, just 15 minutes from the George Washington Bridge so I spent a lot of time in New York City.

When did you start writing?

I started writing in High School.  I had a few poetry pieces published in our school paper.  I used to write stories in notebooks all the time, but I had not considered writing for publication then.  When my husband and I were first married, I started writing again, but my job didn't leave a lot of time for  my hobby and then kids came along and my stories were pretty much all bedtime/bath time stories for my kids.  In 2009 I decided I was going to give it an honest effort, and I haven't stopped since.

What made you start writing?

I don't think there was a defining moment.  When I would make up stories for the kids and they would laugh, that was my best motivation.  When I started writing novels, I wrote about things I was interested in.  Writing is a great learning experience! I have researched history, mythology, physics, ballet, psychology, so many things to keep my work accurate.  It keeps my mind sharp and my vocabulary expanded!

Is it something that you have always wanted to do?

Yes, but I also wanted to be a Chemist and a Radio DJ!  (I was a DJ in College- loved it!)

What is your favourite genre to read, and do you have any favourite books or authors you would like to recommend?

I love to read fiction, particularly comedy with an element of romance.  Christopher Moore and Douglass Adams pulled it off fabulously!    I also love a good plot twist!  Guy Gavriel Kay is the master of the 'I did not see that coming' ending!  I like books that are character driven, that days or weeks later I am still thinking about them.  I read the Harry Potter series after it was completed, all seven books back to back.  By the end I felt like they were my family so when it was over I missed them!

What about to write?

I like to write books with an element of the fantastic:  fate, angels, the reincarnation of Paris of Troy.  Imagine him falling in love again with the woman who's face launched a thousand ships and how the modern world would burn.  Imagine the last angel made from the Glory of God being banished to walk the earth until the Judgement Day and wonder what he would do to make that day happen.  Imagine if you had a journal and every time you wrote in it someone wrote back.

Do you write full time? If not, what do you do?

No, I do not write full time.  I work as a contractor for Applied Materials in the Global Trade Division.

Do you ever base your characters on anyone that you know, or are they solely from your imagination?

I don't base my characters on people I know, but I tend to write stories about things that inspire me.  A lot of The Wishing Place is based around a song from my childhood. 

Born: London, United Kingdom
Hometown: New  Mexico, USA

Biography:  Claire Stibbe was born in London, United Kingdom. She is the daughter of P.G. Stibbe, Author  of Return Via Rangoon, and twin sister of Mark
Stibbe, best-selling author of  over thirty books.

Inspired by her father who read The Lord of the Rings  aloud to his children at bedtime, Claire began to write stories as early as age  nine. A traveler by nature, she has visited numerous countries including Egypt  and the Holy Land and has lived in Cyprus, Hong Kong and the United States. Her love of archaeology and ancient cultures has motivated her to write historical  fiction and comedy amongst other genres.  Her books are rich in history with  compelling characters that both entertain and challenge readers.

She now  lives in New Mexico, USA with her husband and son. 
 
Favorite Things

Favorite Books: The Snowgoose, The Bible, Far From the Madding Crowd 
Favorite Desert: Summer Pudding 
Favorite Place to Write: Where there’s a view
Favorite Drink: Coffee
Favorite Places: Egypt,  Cyprus, England, Scotland, New Mexico

"Writing requires  discipline, detailed thinking, good communication skills, a plan of action, clear vision, and a passion for people. A good book should give the reader  someone to root for, every sentence must describe a character or advance the  plot, every character should want something no matter how small, leading characters should be brutally challenged so the reader can see what they are made of. And lastly, have fun writing." - CMT Stibbe 

Five facts about you that people won’t know about you. Can you juggle? Ride a bike with no hands? Drink beer upside down? Something unusual… GO!

1. I got my PADI certification at 14.

2. A beauty pageant runner-up in High School

3. My wedding dress was a costly $60 off the rack at Macy’s.

4. I stalked my husband until he agreed to marry me.

5. My middle name is Grace, but I’m far from graceful (likely why I got runner-up in the beauty pageant- darn those high heels)

Five facts about your newest book that people won’t know. Some background history on one of your characters maybe? Maybe it was going to be called something completely different to start out with? Is it the same genre it started out as?

1. A lot of people felt the cover of DRAG.N was a mistake – saying the image was misleading. I understood why they felt that way, but I liked it. So I left it – it ‘felt’ like the story to me. Maybe that means that my book will never be well received, but, as an artist, going with my gut is about as important as anything else. 

2. The first character that appears in the story is named after my father – Benton. 

3. I consider DRAG.N to be a political semi-satire built on the ground of a dystopia, others disagree – seeing the modern-day meaning behind my words as more tragedy and true. Let’s just call it dystopian dark comedy with a political undertone that readers can opt to ignore. 

4. I wrote it in roughly 20 hours and then spent a week editing. I think it’s some of my best work. 

5. The chapter with the President in bed with the cleaning maid in the White House originally verged on pornographic. I cleaned it up before publication – which was probably a smart choice considering I’ve been told that I lack the ability to write a convincing smut scene. 
 
Five facts about your next book… Name, genre, expected date of release…

1. Tears of Chios is loosely based off the Legend of Saint Isidore of Chios and will be released this Summer. 
 
2. Mastic spice is said to have healing properties.

3. I wrote half of the book and then decided to change an element of the plot – causing me to spend months re-writing the half I’d already written.

4. My ‘villains’ have precious stones embedded into their skin – in intricate patterns surrounded by swirling tattoos.  

5. The perspective switches from 3rd to 1st then back to 3rd and follows dual main characters across separate landscapes.

Three tips that you think might be useful for other authors… anything you want. It could be, to write a certain amount every day, only write after midnight and never get Gizmo wet (Sorry, that’s Gremlins not writers! My bad.) Maybe it’s some information that was given to you that has helped your process…

1. Learn to take constructive criticism well and use it to your benefit. Criticism doesn’t change you; it teaches you how to respond to the world in a way that better showcases your talents and intent. You have the ability nay the right to pick and choose which criticisms to implement. 

2. Find a lifeline to mentor you through the process. You don’t have to go it alone. You may be surprised, but there are successful writers out there who are willing to share wisdom and advice. 

3. Take full advantage of social media for marketing – Twitter, Facebook, a personal website – all of these will help you build an audience. 

To explore Eli Constant's work click the link below!

Dead Trees, Amazon.com


 

Sometime last month I posted on the blog that my work and I were trying to raise $750 for March of Dimes, and that if we did then I would shave my head. I also asked for help from you, my readers, saying that every dollar I made off of sales for a two week time period I would donate to that cause. Well, as you can see, we reached that $750. We actually reached over $1,000 and so I had my goatee shaved too.

Thank you so much for adding to that donation by purchasing my books. Without you, I'd still have hair ;) NBC29 in Charlottesville, VA will be airing news coverage of my hair cut at 5:30 today. The video will be available on their site after that, until around 2 weeks from now.

Of course if you're interested in reading one of my novels and you haven't yet, I would be honored and would love to hear what you think of them! I'll list what's available on Amazon.com below.

Lazarus, Man
Paperback
Kindle - Free
Audiobook 


Eden Legacy
Paperback
Kindle - Free
Audiobook

Hearts of Avon
Paperback
Kindle - Free

The Ark of Humanity
Paperback
Kindle - Free

Eden and Ark Fantasy Twin Pack
Kindle

Dusk Crescence
Paperback
Kindle


Have a wonderful day! Thank you so much! The link to Amazon.com is below.

Scott J. Toney, Amazon.com