THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: Eden at the Edge of Midnight (The Vara Volumes), John Kerry {$0.99}

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Description of Eden at the Edge of Midnight (The Vara Volumes):

The Vara of Yima, the original Garden of Eden, sealed from the rest of the world and populated with the fittest of men and women. A secret paradise that 150 years ago became ravaged by smog that choked out the skies.

Now the Vara exists in a permanent state of darkness and its people need a champion, a chosen one to save them from the smog that threatens to fill the realm and poison its inhabitants.

That’s what they needed. They got Sammy Ellis instead. She isn’t important enough for her dad to stick around for, never mind saving a realm or junk like that. Her only responsibility was to help the chosen one open the gateway into the Vara, but not only has she entered the realm in their place, she’s also locked them out in the process.

Stuck in a twilight land of giant mushrooms, pursued by dark forces and still in her pyjamas, being unimportant back in the real world is starting to seem way more attractive.



“Eden at the Edge of Midnight is by and large the best book I’ve received from the First Reads Program thus far. It features an incredibly complex and vibrant universe reminiscent of Howls Moving Castle, Game of Thrones, Labyrinth and The Neverending Story, which the blurb on the back doesn’t begin to do justice. The writing is slick and polished, as if this were a bestseller I plucked off the shelf at a major bookstore franchise.” – Janelle –

“Kerry has created a lush, rich and amazing universe that rivals all the likes; Oz, Wonderland, Labyrinth, etc. It was both beautiful and scary and had that touch of humor to the world, that silliness that provides the perfect blend to attract both adults and a younger audience” – Valen –

“OMG I love this book!!! One of the best books I’ve read in a long time…was a long read, but I couldn’t put it down” – k&r.w –


Eden at the Edge of Midnight (The Vara Volumes) currently has an Amazon reader review rating of 4.4 stars from 18 reviews. Read the reviews here.


An excerpt from Eden at the Edge of Midnight (The Vara Volumes):

Few sixteen-year-olds could claim to have a stalker. Typically they were reserved for celebrities, rock stars, maybe even reality TV rejects, and conventionally, ‘popularity’ was a prerequisite. A commodity not in abundance in Sammy Ellis’s existence. Not that she really cared. She was cool with it. But if she had to have a stalker, did it really have to be a crusty old woman? As opposed to, say, a buff Sheffield University student?
In the margin of her maths book she absent-mindedly doodled an odd-looking terminator blasting an old woman in the face with a twelve gauge auto-loader. Boom! Headshot!!! she scrawled over the top, underlining it several times.
Rat-a-tat-tat. A fist rapped on the corner of her desk. It was Miss Armatage.
“The square root of X does not equal death by machine gun,” she said with a straight face. It was a bored, depressed face that had seen a thousand students come and go. An assembly line of kids that she regurgitated the same information to before pushing them back out the door. She was a desiccated husk of a woman, probably in her fifties, but she could’ve easily been a few centuries old.
“It’s not a machine gun, Miss. It’s…”
“I don’t care, Miss Ellis. You’re a tick in my register, a GCSE mathematics grade. A grade B is what I expect from you. And I’ll be disappointed if I don’t get it.”
Sammy wondered whether it was possible for Miss Armatage to look more disappointed with life than she already did. A bloodhound that had been neutered on his birthday would look happier.
Miss Armatage drifted out of focus, replaced by the clock above the whiteboard. 3.15pm. Sammy raised her hand.
“I’m right here, Samantha.”
“Right. Can I be excused, Miss?”
“There’s only half an hour before the bell. Can’t you hold on?”
“Not really. I was dehydrated after PE, so I drank loads of water. Maybe I drank too much, but I was so thirsty I kept drinking…”
Miss Armatage held up her hand to stop her. “Look at my face.”
“Do I have to?”
Miss Armatage stared back, devoid of emotion. “Just go.” She turned and walked back towards the whiteboard, then as Sammy reached the door, added, “Hurry back, my little statistic.”
Sammy ran for the gates, zigzagging across the uneven tarmac outside the science block, dodging puddles while clutching her backpack to the top of her head to stop the icy rain stinging her face. She’d gone straight to the staff room after leaving class, as she had done every night so far this week. Thankfully, this time the room had been empty, so she’d phoned the police and sacked off the last fifteen minutes of school. Tonight she wouldn’t be creeping across the football pitch and over the fence.
She slowed as she approached the school gates. A glimpse of powder blue shimmered through the grey sheets of rain. The old woman stood in front of the houses across the street, the same spot she stood every night, wearing the same pale blue headscarf and dressed in bedraggled brown clothes that resembled a heap of threadbare carpets. Her clothes were heavy, waterlogged and probably freezing. But there she waited, soaking up the rainwater. She must have picked Sammy out as a loner because no one ever came to pick her up. So, then, why hadn’t she made her move yet? This had been going on for weeks and the old woman always stood outside, in plain view.
The dark eyes fixed on Sammy’s. The woman smiled. Then her head snapped to the side and she tensed. Sammy smiled this time. She couldn’t see past the school wall, but she knew what was coming.
The old woman raised her palms as two men in black trench coats came into view. The school gates framed a picture-perfect movie scene of two cops picking up a criminal. One carried an umbrella above both their heads, the other held out a badge. End of the line, old bag.
Voices clamoured behind Sammy. The lower school cloakrooms were emptying. A river of slate-grey bodies accented by flapping red ties came sweeping towards her. She sidestepped, but not quickly enough, and an errant satchel caught her in the face, knocking her down. She landed on all fours and pain spiked in her knees. She sucked in air through her teeth and closed her eyes while the other kids trampled past, kicking her satchel as they jostled to get to their parents’ cars.
Sammy remained where she was, facing the floor, the water streaming from her blonde hair. No one stopped to help. Typical. No one had noticed her since she’d started at this new school, and no one noticed her now, even though they had to run round her to get out of the gate. She was invisible. Only the satchel that tugged at her arm as it got booted around served as a reminder that she still existed in their world.
She waited until the traffic became lighter and flicked her sopping hair back from her face. The two policemen and the old woman had gone.
She had sore knees, sleeves saturated with puddle water, and she’d missed the action. That was probably the most – maybe even the only – exciting thing that was going to happen this term, possibly all year. And it was over.
Miss Armatage stood at the corner of the science block monitoring the stragglers. She peered at Sammy with an expression of exaggerated indifference and motioned for her to get up. She should get up. Her tights were soaking up rainwater and the longer she stayed down, the heavier and colder they’d get. But then, if she got up, she’d have to start walking and she’d have damp, heavy fabric chafing back and forth across her skin and sucking in cold air at the edges.
As she considered her options a hand grabbed her under the arm and jerked her to her feet. She came face to face with a boy sporting a black eye and his tie knotted round his forehead like a Rambo headband. Wayne Grubby. They had maths and science together. He was less unpleasant than most of the other boys in her year, but that wasn’t saying much.
“You all right?” he asked.
Sammy stared down at the wet patches around her knees. “Yeah,” she said.
“You should be careful,” he said. “The playground is proper lumpy, you know. You new?”
“I joined at the start of the year. So… no, not really.”
“Yeah. Well, I haven’t seen you before, but whatever. Bye.” And he ran off.
They had maths and science together! She sat between him and the whiteboard. How could he not know her? Maybe he should spend more time paying attention and less time setting his mates’ books on fire with Bunsen burners. She didn’t care anyway. He was a moron.
She watched him go. Cars crawled along the street outside the gates, their windows fogged with warm breath, smiling faces drawn in the condensation. Perhaps she’d stand where she was one more minute. If she kept perfectly still with her legs spread and her arms out then she could minimise the amount of wet cloth in contact with her body. Miss Armatage had gone, so there was no one left to shoo her away, and if she waited long enough the rain would stop and her body temperature would dry her clothes enough to stop them chafing.
On the street the last car pulled away. The rain wasn’t going to let up and her clothes weren’t going to get any drier. She should start on the long walk home. She took a step towards the gates and stopped.
The old woman was there, barring the way.


Eden at the Edge of Midnight (The Vara Volumes) is available for purchase at:

 Amazon Kindle for $0.99


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THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: Wakefield (The Mad World Saga Series), Troy H. Gardner & Erin Callahan {$5.95}

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Orphans Astrid Chalke and Max Fisher meet when they’re sent to live at Wakefield, a residential and educational facility for teens with psychiatric and behavioral problems. Astrid’s roommate cuts herself with anything sharp she can get her hands on and Max’s roommate threatens him upon introduction.

Just as Astrid and Max develop a strong bond and begin to adjust to the constant chaos surrounding them, a charming and mysterious resident of Wakefield named Teddy claims he has unexplainable abilities. Sometimes he can move things without touching them. Sometimes he can see people’s voices flowing out of their mouths. Teddy also thinks that some of the Wakefield staff are on to him.

At first, Astrid and Max think Teddy is paranoid, but Max’s strange recurring dreams and a series of unsettling events force them to reconsider Teddy’s claims. Are they a product of his supposedly disturbed mind or is the truth stranger than insanity?



“The ending of this book blew me away and I’d definitely be interested in reading the next book. It was a pleasantly surprising read with plenty of action and suspense! And a book I would definitely recommend.” – TotalTeenFiction

“Great story, anxious to read the next chapter. Encouraging all to buy and enjoy! Great setting, authentic, well written. Could be read by teens and adults.” – Amazon customer

“outstanding writing, strong characters and interesting plot make this book hard to put down. i look forward to the next book!” – Amazon customer

“Very fun story. The dual narration allowed for multiple perspectives on the storyline as well as great character development. It was fun getting to know the characters through different sets of eyes, including their own. Can’t wait for the second book to be released.” – Amazon customer

Amazon Reader Reviews:

Wakefield (The Mad World Saga Series) currently has an Amazon Reader Review rating of 3.9 stars, with 14 reviews. Read the reviews here.


An excerpt from Wakefield (The Mad World Saga Series):

I ran a hand lightly against the cold wall, imagining the force it would take to smash through it. The yellow lights above shone with a dull intensity that turned my stomach. The doors all matched, and I felt claustrophobic. The only thing that broke up the monotony was the random graffiti scribbled on the walls. Most of it had been scrubbed off, but I could make out faint lines here and there. They were like ghosts, just out of reach. Realizing I wouldn’t be able to leave these walls, I slunk down to the shiny, white floor and nearly cried.
“Hey,” a timid voice called out. It was the goth kid I’d noticed earlier. He was bone thin and had a long mop of straight hair that matched his black shirt and pants. He pushed the hair out of his face; the movement showed off his seven or eight bracelets.
I ignored him completely, so he approached very slowly and said, “You’ll get your regular clothes back tomorrow.”
“They give them back the next day.” He bobbed his head. He was younger than I was, but I couldn’t tell by how much. Dark hair covered half his face, which made him look younger, or he might have been little for his age.
“I look stupid,” I confided.
“Yeah, those suck,” he went on. “They made me feel like a tool when I got here. But you won’t have to wear them again. I haven’t.”
“That’s cool.”
“So, welcome to Newton,” he said with a half grin.
“Yeah, this part of the building. We have to pretty much stay in our own area. There are three other units—Whitehall, Lancre, and McCarthy. We’re the best.”
“Clearly. I’m Max,” I introduced myself as he sat down against the opposite wall. He acted like I was a dangerous animal, moving slowly, like I might pounce at any minute. The woman at the staff desk looked up over her laptop for about twenty seconds before going back to whatever she was doing. I wondered if he thought he was fast enough to outrun me. I doubted he was. “So what do I call you?”
“Uh, I’m Azrael,” he told me shyly. He looked away, down the hall, in case I’d laugh at him.
“Your name is Azrael?” I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to scare him off, but it was a weird name.
“No,” he admitted and looked up at the ceiling. “It’s really Jon Applegarth, but I like Azrael better. It’s stupid, I guess.” He shrugged and let out a deep breath. I could tell he was not a fan of Wakefield.
“Did you get your name from the cat in The Smurfs?” I asked.
“No, I just like it. It sounds vampiric,” he said, brown eyes glistening with excitement.
“All right. Azrael it is then,” I reassured this kid.
He turned his face back to me and grinned. He had a tiny row of neat, little teeth.
“So, Simon’s your roommate, huh?” he asked, though he was fully aware of the answer.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“I’m sorry,” he squinted at me, lowering his voice.
“He’s that bad?”
“Some guys like him. Couple of the girls do, too,” Azrael told me. “I stay away if I can.”
“Maybe he’ll be cool to me.” I shrugged.
“Yeah, maybe,” Azrael lied. “I gotta go.”
I doubted Azrael had any pressing business to take care of, but I didn’t say anything as he stood up and skittered away. This wasn’t the sort of place you tell people how you really feel. I’d have to start practicing biting my tongue and letting people do what they want. At least it was nice of Azrael to sit with me for a few minutes, even though he only worried me about Simon. If people liked me before I came here, then why wouldn’t they like me here at Wakefield?
A fat guy, older than me, left a room up ahead. He looked at me for a few seconds and then continued on to the bathroom. I hung my head low as I stood and walked down the hall to stare at my darkened reflection in the small window. It was gray outside, and I couldn’t see much, but I would have given anything to be on the other side of that glass. It showed me a face that looked at least two years older than the last time I’d seen myself. Maybe I could get into R rated movies now. If only they’d let me out to see movies. I went back to my room, where Simon sat at his desk.
“Hey, do they ever let us out to the movies?” I asked Simon.
He grunted, so I sat on the empty bed to wait for my stuff to come. I didn’t know how long it would take the state social worker to bring my things to Wakefield or the staff to pour through all my belongings. I’d later hear how they’d go through all the pockets and seams for anything cutters use. They’d also check my music and movies to make sure none of it was inappropriate.
My “new” dresser was a simple, beat up, wooden monstrosity shoved against the wall. At least it looked more inviting than the bed I sat on. It was a wooden box with eight holes on the sides for straps to pass through in case the staff needed to restrain anyone in their rooms. Small rails cradled the thin, uncomfortable mattress.
Then I noticed a small rectangular camera hanging from the ceiling.
“Um, do all the rooms have cameras? Is that thing on?” I asked Simon.
“Yeah, dumbass, it’s on. And no, not every room has one. But because of your newbie ass, I have to live with a camera until they decide to trust you. Thanks a lot.”
At least I knew why Simon was angry with me.


Wakefield (The Mad World Saga Series) is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $5.95

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My Wolf’s Bane (Shapes of Autumn, book one), Veronica Blade {$4.49 or borrow FREE w/ Prime!}

Different species. Mortal enemies. It’ll never work, but they’ll die trying.

Autumn Rossi thought she was a normal teenager. Suddenly, she can outrun every critter in the forest, making her wonder if she’s even human.

When the new guy at school, Zack de Luca, witnesses a questionable scene, he unfairly pins her as stuck-up. He acts like he hates her, yet he keeps bailing her out of trouble. Not only is Zack both insufferable and irresistible, he seems to sniff her anytime he gets close.

As passion flares between them, Autumn isn’t sure which is more dangerous: her psycho ex-boyfriend, or falling for Zack — who’s risking his life just by being near her.

What readers are saying:

“Un-freakin-believable!!…This is truly one of the best YA Paranormal novels that I have ever read…” —

“I just can’t say enough how much I loved this book!”—

“A fast-paced, intriguing start to the Shapes of Autumn series, My Wolf’s Bane is an awesome read.” — Susan Hatler, International bestselling author

The average Amazon reader review rating is currently 4.8 stars, with 20 reviews.

Click here to read more about and purchase My Wolf’s Bane (Shapes of Autumn, book one)  for $4.49 or borrow FREE w/ Prime!

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: My Wolf’s Bane (Shapes of Autumn, book one), Veronica Blade {$4.49 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!}

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Veronica Blades Frugal Find Under Nine:

Description of My Wolf’s Bane (Shapes of Autumn, book one):

Autumn Rossi thought she was a normal teenager. Suddenly, she can outrun every critter in the forest, making her wonder if she’s even human.

When the new guy at school, Zack de Luca, witnesses a questionable scene, he unfairly pins her as stuck-up. He acts like he hates her, yet he keeps bailing her out of trouble. Not only is Zack both insufferable and irresistible, he seems to sniff her anytime he gets close.

As passion flares between them, Autumn isn’t sure which is more dangerous: her psycho ex-boyfriend, or falling for Zack — who’s risking his life just by being near her.


“Un-freakin-believable!!…This is truly one of the best YA Paranormal novels that I have ever read…” —

“I just can’t say enough how much I loved this book!”—

“A fast-paced, intriguing start to the Shapes of Autumn series, My Wolf’s Bane is an awesome read.” — Susan Hatler, International bestselling author

Amazon Reader Reviews:

My Wolf’s Bane (Shapes of Autumn, book one) currently has a Amazon reader review rating of 5 stars with 20 reviews. Read the reviews here!

An excerpt from My Wolf’s Bane (Shapes of Autumn, book one):


Scooping up my backpack, I abandoned my geriatric car and forged through the double doors of the school. The patter of my sandals echoed through the hallway as I smiled at a group of classmates passing by.
My nose detected the bathroom before my eyes did, filling with the smell of disinfectant and… paint? Whatever. I’d take the toxic fumes over my former home school days, where my parents had kept me trapped without a social life.
Inside the empty restroom, I rummaged through my backpack for my makeup bag. I set it on the edge of the sink, then surveyed the damage. At least I’d had time to do my hair before I’d stormed out of the house. Long, dark brown hair cascaded over my shoulders in thick waves. My face was a different story though. Evidence of sleep deprivation circled my eyes and my normally olive skin was pale.
As I stared at my reflection, I wondered how to handle my very dead car without involving my mom or dad. After the bomb they’d dropped last night — that we’d be moving again in just a few weeks — I didn’t want to speak to either of them. I mean, what kind of parents uproot their kid two to three times a year? There had to be a way to convince them to stay a few weeks more, until I turned eighteen. Then I could make my own choices.
The restroom door swung open behind me, letting in the dull roar of voices and banging lockers, and a younger girl disappeared into a stall. Was it time for my first class already? I checked the time on my cell and realized I’d been holding the mascara brush for several minutes, yet my lashes were still naked. Crap.
I tossed the makeup bag into my backpack, slung it over my shoulder and whipped open the door. Barreling out of the bathroom, I slammed into what felt like a walking boulder. I ricocheted off the human rock and my backpack hit the wall behind me, throwing me off balance and pitching me forward into the hard, linoleum tile.
My palms cushioned my fall, but I winced as pain spiked up my wrists. On all fours, I lifted my chin and peeked through my curtain of dark hair.
He wore a black tee that molded to his wide, muscular shoulders and jeans that fit over powerful legs. Wow. I’d thought my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend was cute, but this guy…
“You okay?” the hottie asked in a sexy, gravelly voice, stretching a hand toward me. His hand wrapped around mine and effortlessly pulled me up, as if I weighed no more than my calculus book. Maybe it was the throbbing in my limbs or the warmth of his hands on my elbows. Or maybe it was his earthy scent invading my senses, but a wave of dizziness hit me and I tipped forward.
His hands shot to my hips to steady me. “Easy there.”
I stared into his deep, green eyes as my palms rested on his hard biceps for support. Lord, he smelled good, like the forest after rain.
My breath hitched.
The scuffling of feet and rustling clothes seemed quieter than it should’ve been. I glanced over my shoulder to see what was up. Nearly everyone in the hallway had their eyes fixed on me. No doubt, most of them had witnessed me doing the Humpty-Dumpty and, by the end of the day, the incident would be all over school. Probably even caught on video and uploaded to YouTube, me with no makeup and totally un-cute. Ugh.
Hot Guy may have been standing right in front of the bathroom in my way, but I shouldn’t have been speeding. I opened my mouth to apologize when I recognized Daniel’s voice.
“That’s my girl you’re touching, freak.” Daniel sneered, flicked his long, dirty-blond hair over his shoulder and clamped onto my wrist. “Hands off.”
Hot Guy nudged me aside and stepped forward until he almost butted chests with Daniel. “You need to learn some manners.”
“Oh, yeah? You gonna try to teach me, girly boy?”
Though I knew Daniel was acting like an idiot, the school gossip mill didn’t need any more material on me today. I was more than finished with Daniel, but I didn’t necessarily want him to get a public smack-down — even though he probably deserved it. Wedging myself between them, I twisted to meet Daniel’s gaze. “Let’s just go.”
“Good idea.” Daniel gave Hot Guy another scalding look before grabbing my hand and jerking me away. I breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn’t have to referee a brawl.
“Ass hat,” Hot Guy muttered.
Daniel kept walking, practically dragging me along. He couldn’t have heard the insult or he would’ve stopped and turned on Hot Guy. But I had heard it so clearly. Weird.
“Hang on and I’ll walk you to class.” Daniel paused at his locker and spun the combination lock.
“Sure,” I said absently. I glanced over my shoulder to Hot Guy, who was leaning against a locker fiddling with his cell phone. The least I could do was give him an apologetic smile and mime, “Sorry.”
I didn’t get a chance. His gaze met mine, his mouth twisting as he raised one brow. Okay, so this wasn’t going to be an easy fix. Hot Guy seemed too old to be in high school anyway. Probably a college student dropping off his younger sibling, which meant I’d never see him again.
I wanted to keep staring at his perfectly sculpted nose, angular cheekbones and deep brown hair that fell haphazardly over his forehead, but he spun and strolled off in the opposite direction. A tug of my hand drew my focus back to my future ex-boyfriend.
“Hold up,” I said. The warning bell sounded, but I barely heard it as I yanked my hand from his. “Why’d you have to act like such a psycho?”
Daniel shrugged, as though the answer was obvious. “He was touching you.”
I laughed. “Seriously?”
“You’re mine, Autumn. No other guy can ever touch you again.” He said it like he couldn’t believe I’d even question him.
“I’m no one’s property,” I hissed. “Besides, I tripped and he was just helping me up.”
“Why are you defending that loser?” His voice rose and his face flushed.
My hands balled into fists. “Because I don’t like how you treat people.”
“What are you talking about?” He gave me a look that said it all — I was insane. I opened my mouth to start in on him, but his eyes swept the corridor before he said, “We’re gonna be late for class.”
Daniel was right. The hall was deserted. A stream of mild curses spewed from my mouth as I sprinted to homeroom with only seconds to spare.


My Wolf’s Bane (Shapes of Autumn, book one) is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $4.49 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!


Connect with Veronica Blade:


Twitter: @VeronicaBlade


THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: Eternal Mercury, Elaine Pinter {$2.99}

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Get it now, here

Description of Eternal Mercury:

Can true love survive the boundaries of death?

Eighteen-year-old Chelsee Taylor has been in love with her boyfriend, Max, since they started kindergarten together. She has no idea that high school graduation will be the last perfect day of her life. After a deadly car accident, Chelsee refuses to accept Max’s death because she can still feel his presence. No one believes her and she is completely alone. Until Blake Andersen shows up. It’s not just that he believes her . . . or even just that he’s so understanding . . . . But why is Max’s presence so strong when she’s with Blake?

Eternal Mercury is two books in one. Book 1, Chelsee’s Story, is bittersweet and moving, while Book 2, Blake’s Story, is gritty and inspirational.


5.0 out of 5 stars Finally, a good read with no sex, violence or vulgar words!!!
By lbeaman 
This book is now one of my favorites. Great story line. Just as you meet the main character, you learn there is another one! I am so pleased with this story, I plan to send copies to all my friends in my book club. Had to finish the last few pages with a box of tissues. Write another one, Elaine! 5.0 out of 5 stars Great Read!! 
By AndreaN 
I really enjoyed this book. I could not put the book down. The story is not like anything out there! 

5.0 out of 5 stars Beautiful 
By Elena 
I could not put this down. What an amazing story of love, tragedy, strength, triumph, and family. I cried, I laughed, I felt like I was right there with the characters. I am originally from the Boise area so it was amazing to know exactly what areas the author was referencing in different parts of the book. A job beyond well done! I have already told all my friends with young teenage daughters to have them read this book and also read it themselves. If we could all teach our daughters that this is what true love should be like it would be awesome! My favorite part is that it was clean writing and I could recommend it to my friends without having to add, there are a few “bad” parts. It was all good!!!! Great job Elaine! Keep on writing!



Eternal Mercury currently has an Amazon reader review rating of 5 stars from 4 reviews. Read the reviews here.


Eternal Mercury is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $2.99

An excerpt from Eternal Mercury:

Trust fate. Live life. Finish well.


People are wrong when they say “It all happened so fast.” It doesn’t happen fast at all. It happens in slow motion. I felt every sway in the car and heard every sound the tires and brakes made as I braced myself for the unavoidable impact.

Chapter 1: Perfect

Perfect. That was how my life could be described. I had lived my entire life in The City of Trees. Boise is technically a city, but it feels more like a town. Maybe “perfect” was an exaggeration, but it sure felt like it in that moment. I was about to graduate from high school with all of my friends. Some of us had even been in the same class together since kindergarten. The commencement speeches were over, and it was almost my turn to walk across the stage to get my diploma. I didn’t think I would ever stop smiling because it was awesome to think that the next chapter of life was about to begin for all of us.
Principal Shaw looked at me. “Chelsee Taylor.”
I stepped up onto the stage and took a deep breath to steady myself. Don’t trip, don’t trip, please, don’t trip. My family and friends cheered for me while I made my way to the center of the stage. Their excitement was so contagious that my smile got even bigger when I shook the principal’s hand.
“Go CeeCee!” Max’s voice boomed out above the other cheers and applause.
My boyfriend, Max, was one of the kids I had known since kindergarten. He called me CeeCee on our first day of school and every day since. I whispered my name to him because I was such a quiet kid, and that’s how it came out when he repeated it.
Max must have figured he could get away with making me blush in front of everyone since his last name was Cutler and he’d already made his trek across the stage. That actually isn’t true. I wasn’t loud enough or brave enough to do anything other than clap for him when it was his turn.
Relief settled over me while I stood at the end of the stage and moved the tassel to the left side of my graduation cap. I started down the steps and caught a glimpse of just how many people were packed into the building. I knew the arena at the university was huge, but the view was different from that angle. A wave of stage fright hit me and I looked down at my feet. Just a little further to my chair. I was glad I had turned down the heels Stacey, my best friend since third grade, had brought over to my house before the ceremony. She figured we could at least make our hair and legs look good in the unflattering graduation gowns. To smooth over my rejection of the shoes, I had to let her do my hair and makeup. It was a great tradeoff because whatever she put in my hair smelled really good and showed off my long, brown waves. I never wore makeup unless Stacey talked me into it. I preferred the natural look, but she was so good at it that I didn’t mind for special occasio ns. Good, I made it back to my seat. I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked my black ballet flats for an uneventful walk through the auditorium.
Eli Zimmer crossed the stage and sat back down in his chair. The applause was fading, but the anticipation was building.
Principal Shaw returned to the microphone. “Congratulations, high school graduates!”
A sea of blue graduation caps sailed through the air along with lots of excited cheers.
I retrieved my cap and pushed my way through my classmates toward the front of the auditorium. I peeked through the crowd and spotted Max’s dark, tousled hair. When he turned around, I couldn’t help but smile at his boyish handsomeness. He lifted me off the floor in a big hug.
“It’s official. We made it!” he shouted over the roar of the voices. “Let’s go find everyone.”
He took my hand and led me through the wall of people. His five inches of height over my five foot five made it easy for him to find the way to where our families were waiting.
My mom and dad, Marcie and Sam, were sitting with Max’s mom and dad, Janet and Randy. Max’s older brother, Van, and his girlfriend, Sierra, were there, too. Our parents had become very close friends over the years because of all the time Max and I spent together. Not only was it great to have that closeness with everyone, but it made events and get-togethers convenient.
I noticed how my mom and dad made such a nicely-matched couple. My mom was an inch taller than me, but with a very slight build. Her hair was graying and the way she wore it flipped up at the ends made her look classic. She was extremely friendly, but in a quiet way. My dad was a man of few words. His gray hair and strong build made him look distinguished. My slender, but athletic frame and quiet personality were a combination I had gotten from both of them.
“I am so proud of you, sweetie.” My mom squeezed me in a tight hug.
“Thanks, Mom.”
My dad put his arms around both of us and smiled.
“Come here, Max.” My mom held out her arms to hug him.
I turned around to get my hugs from Randy and Janet. I had been fixture in their home for so many years that they felt like a second set of parents to me.
“Congratulations, honey.” Janet tucked a piece of her short, dark hair behind her ear and reached up on her tip toes to hug me, and I stretched my arms around her.
Randy came over next and wrapped his huge arms around me. “Nice job, little girl.”
Randy was a big guy and could, at times, be intimidating. His size coupled with his buzz cut almost made him look like a drill sergeant. But I knew that on the inside, he had a soft heart. It was no secret he’d always wanted a daughter, and since she’d never showed up, I’d developed a special bond with him.
“Congrats, bro.” Van punched Max in the arm and took cover behind Sierra, which was ridiculous since she was an inch shorter than me.
“Really? Why can’t you guys just hug like normal people?” Sierra asked after Max dashed around her to punch his brother back.
When Sierra brushed the bangs of her soft brown, shoulder-length hair out of her eyes, I glanced at her ring finger. We all expected an engagement ring to appear on it at any minute, but it was still bare. Van and Sierra met playing co-ed softball a couple of years before and had been together nonstop ever since. It’s not like I wouldn’t know about a ring ahead of time, but I wanted to be sure I hadn’t missed anything.
I reached out to hug Sierra. “They’ve been like this ever since we were little.”
“I know. I guess I shouldn’t expect them to ever quit rough-housing—even in public places,” Sierra said as she squeezed me.
“I thought Stacey’s valedictorian speech was beautiful,” my mom said.
“It was,” Janet said. “And her shoes were so cute.”
Janet’s comment made me giggle. “Stacey will be glad to know that at least someone realizes the importance of good shoes.” I showed off my unappreciated, but practical shoes.
My dad and Randy were not interested in footwear and had drifted into a conversation about the upcoming Boise State Bronco football season.
“. . . and not just football. This year, we’ll be in the front row at all the track meets.” My dad patted Randy on the back. “That kid of yours is fast.”
“You better believe it.” Randy smiled proudly. “Blue turf on the ball field and blue track inside the sports center.”
Van grabbed Max in a headlock. “A lot of guys run a four-minute mile.”
It wasn’t just that the two of them were scuffling and joking around that made it obvious they were brothers. Even though Van was taller and Max was faster, they looked so much alike.
Max pulled his head free and got in one last punch.
He was so humble about how gifted a runner he was. I was still amazed at how he regularly blew off those kinds of comments.
Van put his arm around me. “Congratulations, little sister.”
“Thanks.” I squeezed him.
“Ready?” Max asked me and took my hand.
I nodded. I am ready to go hang out with our friends.
“Be careful, you two,” my mom said and gave us each another hug.
“Yes, please be careful out there tonight.” Janet also hugged us again.
Max led me through the crowd to the room where we returned our graduation gowns. It felt good to be out of the gown and back in just my gray, flowered dress. Max must have felt the same way because the first thing he did was untuck his black polo shirt from his khaki pants. We slipped out a side door into the parking lot, and it was a relief to be out of the crowded building.
“I didn’t think it was possible,” he said, “but you’re smiling more than usual.”
“I can’t help it.” I tried to make it less, but I couldn’t.
“Don’t you ever quit smiling, CeeCee.”
He must have said that to me a thousand times, and I answered just like I had a thousand times before.
“I don’t think I ever could.”
“Could you believe that dance Tommy did up there on the stage?” Max laughed again just like we all did when it was happening. “That guy is hilarious.”
Max’s laugh was so contagious that it made me start laughing again, too.
“He probably really was that excited,” I said. “He cut it pretty close. Still, I could never do something like that.”
“Tommy is the only one I know who could.” He walked around to the passenger door of his silver Pontiac Grand Am and opened it for me.
Lying on the seat was a jewelry box with a red bow around it.
“A graduation present?” I looked up at him. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“It’s just a little something so that you’ll always have a piece of me with you, you know, to remember me by.” He winked at me.
“It’s not like I could ever forget you. I’ve known you since we were five. And besides, we’re both staying here to go to college.”
“I know that. But still, graduating is a big deal.” He picked up the box and handed it to me. “Open it.”
I took off the bow and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful, platinum necklace. The pendant on the necklace was an abstract version of Mercury’s winged foot from Roman mythology.
“Max, this is so awesome. It’s exactly like your tattoo.”
I pulled up the right sleeve of his shirt to expose his upper arm and held the necklace up next to his tattoo.
“So, what do you think?” he asked.
He had the most beautiful, genuine smile I’d ever seen. It was a true reflection of the person he was. I loved it when that smile spread across his face and lit up his dark blue eyes like it was right then.
“Are you kidding? I love it,” I said.
I handed him the necklace and moved my hair out of the way. I turned around and he clasped it around my neck.

Eternal Mercury is available for purchase at:

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THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: The Gypsy Thief: The Talisman Trilogy, Kellie Tayer {$3.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!}

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Description of The Gypsy Thief: The Talisman Trilogy:

The Gypsy Thief is set in modern day Rhode Island and is the story of Laura Calder and her love for two boys: Andrew Easton, a descendant of King George the First, and Miguel Dos Santos, a mysterious gypsy who has royal ties of his own. More than 300 years previously, a dying Portuguese princess named Gabriela cast a gypsy curse on King George the First who issued a royal decree to counteract that curse. In the spring of 2012, the time has come for the decree to be fulfilled: Miguel Dos Santos must die by the hand of Tristan Easton, the eldest son of the Duke of Easton. But when a tragic accident befalls Tristan, it is up to his younger brother Andrew to carry out the decree, a situation complicated by the fact that Miguel once saved Andrew’s life. Andrew’s father, the Duke of Easton, aware of Miguel’s act of bravery, decides to let him live, but not without cost. He forces Laura into an impossible situation in order to save Miguel and her family. She must make a life-changing, heart-breaking decision, even as she tries to understand the messages from the mysterious disk she wears as a talisman around her neck, a talisman she must protect from the duke, as it is now her only tie to Miguel. Ultimately, The Gypsy Thief is a story of family honor and the lengths we will go to protect the ones we love, a story to be continued in its sequel, The Dark Prince, and concluded in The Shadow King.



Jessica on Goodreads gave The Gypsy Thief FIVE STARS!
“I whole heartedly recommend “The Gypsy Thief” to anyone looking for a wonderful and romantic young adult story… Once I opened the book, I could not stop turning the pages.
I loved every character and look forward to reading the second book of the trilogy.” — 5 Star Amazon Review



The Gypsy Thief: The Talisman Trilogy currently has an Amazon reader review rating of 5 stars from 1 review. Read the reviews here.

An excerpt from The Gypsy Thief: The Talisman Trilogy:

If you had the chance to go back into your life and change one thing, would you do it, even if it meant that every single thing that came after would be changed as a result? What if I had ignored that boy who’d told me I’d dropped something on the ground when I knew I hadn’t? What if I’d picked up that gold disk and tossed it to the boy and then gone on my merry way? What if I’d given it away to a stranger? What if someone else had found the gold disk before I had? What if? They say life can turn on a dime, but my life turned on a gold disk about the size of a fifty-cent piece. I knew it wasn’t mine, but I chose to keep it anyway and in so doing, I set the course of my life. If I could go back in time and choose not to keep that gold disk, would I? Knowing everything that came after? Knowing I could escape all the pain, suffering, tears and heartache that came as a result of keeping that gold disk? Knowing I would never taste the sweetness of a prince’s kiss or feel the heat of a gypsy’s passion? Even though it seemed to bring me more heartache than not, without it, I never would have known how far I was willing to go—how much I was willing to sacrifice—for love. But I know what my choice would be. Yes, I would have to say—I would keep the disk every time.


The Gypsy Thief: The Talisman Trilogy is available for purchase at:

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THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: daylight, Megan Thomason {FREE!}

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Description of daynight:

“Sure to win over YA readers looking for a dangerous, dystopian adventure story” —Kirkus Reviews

“Gripping young adult dystopian novel; compelling conflicts; high stakes; powerful narrative; surprises keep coming; strong writing; page-turner; engaging characters; Readers will be hungry for the sequels.”—BlueInk Review (starred review)

Meet The Second Chance Institute (SCI): Earth’s benevolent non-profit by day, Thera’s totalitarian regime by night. Their motto: Because Everyone Deserves a Second Chance at Life(TM). Reality: the SCI subjects Second Chancers to strict controls and politically motivated science experiments like Cleaving—forced lifetime union between two people who have sex. Punishment for disobeying SCI edicts? Immediate Exile or death.

Meet Kira Donovan. Fiercely loyal, overly optimistic, and ensnared by the promise of a full-ride college scholarship, Kira signs the SCI Recruit contract to escape memories of a tragedy that left her boyfriend and friends dead.

Meet Blake Sundry. Bitter about being raised in Exile and his mother’s death, Blake’s been trained to infiltrate and destroy the SCI. Current barrier to success? His Recruit partner—Miss Goody Two Shoes Kira Donovan.

Meet Ethan Darcton. Born with a defective heart and resulting inferiority complex, Ethan’s forced to do his SCI elite family’s bidding. Cleave-worthy Kira Donovan catches his eye, but the presiding powers give defect-free Blake Sundry first dibs.

Full of competing agendas, romantic entanglements, humor, twists and turns, daynight is Megan Thomason’s debut young adult dystopian novel and first in the daynight series.



BlueInk Review Starred Review: “gripping young adult dystopian novel; compelling conflicts; high stakes; powerful narrative; surprises keep coming; strong writing; page-turner; engaging characters; Readers will be hungry for the sequels.”

“Sure to win over YA readers looking for a dangerous, dystopian adventure story… A sci-fi adventure with a sweet YA love story at its center… richly imagined alternate world… distinctive voices and conflicting motivations” —Kirkus Reviews

“Well written and with excellent character development, this book grips you from the first page and keeps you wanting more. ” C. Church, Amazon reviewer

“This is not a book to breeze through or skim – you will want to enjoy every minute.” Eagereader, Amazon reviewer



daylight currently has an Amazon reader review rating of 4.6 stars from 56 reviews. Read the reviews here.


daynight is available for purchase at:

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An excerpt from daynight:


The moment the perfectly styled, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl awakens to the sight of her own dead body, she swears and slaps her corpse across the face. The gesture makes no impact. She checks her hands. Not a lick of vomit, despite the fact Dead Her’s covered with it.

“Stupid,” she yells at her dead-self. “If we were going to go, it should have been in grand fashion. A high speed car chase or skydiving or getting blown to bits by a terrorist. Not by some fluke. Not at my own party!” Someone will find us and fix this, she thinks.

She catches a glimpse of her animated self in the mirror. No longer dressed in her tailored Dolce & Gabbana dress or to-die for Prada jeweled satin 5 1/2 inch heel pumps, a simple and quite ugly grey shift hangs loosely from her body. An ear piercing scream leaves her lips. No, no, no. This can’t be real. Has to be a nightmare. There’s no way she’d ever wear such an insult to the fashion gods. She attempts to remove the shoes from her corpse as they’d easily make her top 100 pairs, but they won’t budge. Nor will the Tiffany necklace adorned with a most sentimental ring. Frustrated, she pummels Dead Her with well-placed kicks, but the stiff doesn’t flinch an inch.

“This isn’t a dream and we generally advise against beating oneself up,” a voice booms behind her. A tall man with white hair has appeared next to the girl in her locked parent’s master bathroom. His somber tone and white, pristinely pressed suit signal ‘all business.’ “Sit down,” he invites, gesturing to a small metal table and chairs that weren’t there a minute ago. The girl’s mother would fall down and die right next to the girl if she saw warehouse quality furniture adorning the special-ordered Italian floor and Louis XVI-era commode.

“Tell me what happened,” the man instructs.
“Am I really dead?” the girl asks, ignoring his request and pointing to the lifeless figure on the floor.

“I think that’s quite self-explanatory,” he says. “Determining the how and why will help me place you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Place me? As in Heaven vs. Hell? Let’s see. I don’t pray or worship anyone other than my personal shopper and tailor. I haven’t been to church in more than a decade. So, I’m thinking I’m headed downward. And if that doesn’t seal the deal, drinking myself to death at my own party should do it. But maybe you take pity on entitled kids left to their own devices by jet-setting parents?”

He opens a notebook and jots down a few notes, before asking, “You took some pain killers earlier this evening?”

“Yeah. I had some pain,” she snorts.

“From the tattoo you got after partying with your friends last night? A single black rose between your shoulder blades?”

“Uh, yeah. How’d you know about that?” she says, wondering if it is still present. The nagging itch and twinge of discomfort that were there yesterday have disappeared.

“Did you know your tattoo was infected?” he asks, not even looking up.

“Serious? No,” she gasps, knowing she shouldn’t have trusted that grimy Mission Beach tattoo parlor.

“You had fourteen drinks over the past six hours? Six shots, three vodka-tonics, and five glasses of punch?” he says, as he pushes his reading glasses farther up the bridge of his nose.

“Something like that,” she sneers. “As I said, it was a party. My party.”

“Did you know some of your male house guests supplemented the punch with an additive meant to loosen inhibitions?” he asks.

“Nope. Sounds like something the idiots would do though.”

“Were you depressed at all? Did you have a desire to die?” he says.

“It was a mistake,” she says. “It wasn’t about depression. It was about fun. Ever heard of it? It’s ridiculous I had to die over it. Everyone else seems to get a second chance. Why not me?” The man takes his time reviewing his notes and seems to make some sort of decision as he closes his notebook.
“I know just the place for you,” he says. “Follow me.”

And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. 
And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night.
Genesis 1:3-5
If light is good, what does the dark bring?


Escape, I remind myself. That’s why I’m here. On a speedboat. With a creepy escort who looks like the human incarnation of Mr. Potatohead. Heading into the open ocean towards an unknown destination. I’d eagerly signed the dotted line of The Second Chance Institute Recruit year-long contract, agreeing to leave all my earthly possessions in San Diego. It seemed easier to run than face my demons. I do regret abandoning my brother, Jared. He’s a year younger and it’s always been us versus them, and by them I mean the judgmental, self-centered beings who gave us life. My parents couldn’t shove me out the door fast enough, as my distress infringed upon their illusion of a perfect, carefree existence.

Just the thought of escaping reminds me of the events that led to my decision. I close my eyes and let fragments in, fighting the tears away. The ‘incident’ happened two months ago. My SCI Recruit Test preceded my senior year Winter Formal and after-party, which I attended with my boyfriend, Tristan and best friend, Briella. At the party, they ditched me after having tormented me all evening for considering a ‘do-gooder stint’ with the SCI. I figured they’d drink it off and get over it. In their absence, I met the perfect(ly unattainable) guy, Ethan. Who had me fantasizing about marriage, babies and growing old together. But, we were both ‘taken’ and, regrettably, parted ways.

The turning point of the fateful evening and reason I’m still alive: catching my boyfriend and best friend groping each other in a steamy make-out session. Refusing to discuss or forgive, I’d fled the posh Rancho Santa Fe estate and out into the darkness. Eerie silence was followed by ear-splitting, bomb-like thunder. Whatever the source, it leveled the house in seconds, raining fire and debris in every direction. I remember being hit by shrapnel and the resulting blood and pain. Being dragged from the wreckage. And then, medical personnel, police and the press all hounding me to know how I escaped the tragedy that left 110 of my classmates—including my boyfriend and all my close friends—dead.

I push the memories aside and lean back on the vinyl cushions of the boat. Listen to the whir of the motor. The spray of the boat’s wake cools the effects of the glorious Southern California sun and dampens my long, more-strawberry-than-blonde curls. Cutting through the waves at high speed rocks me into a trance. My SCI Recruiter, Ted Rosenberg—the Mr. Potatohead clone, who I’ve nicknamed ‘Spud’—encourages me to ‘enjoy the nice weather while it lasts,’ but I don’t respond. He yaps about Unit 27, my final destination, warning of ‘extreme temperature variations.’ Dump me at the North Pole, I think, if it puts distance between me and my memories.

According to their brochure, The Second Chance Institute places Recruits worldwide, with many prime locations throughout Europe, Asia, Africa and South America. Unfortunately, Recruits don’t get to choose where they serve and you can’t take anything with you other than the clothes on your back. The SCI provides ‘everything needed’ to adapt to one’s assignment. I sincerely doubt they can anticipate my every need, but don’t really care. I just want to get there and learn the where/what/whys about this mysterious Unit 27.

My blood apparently contains some random marker called DNT that made me an ‘excellent candidate’ for one of SCI’s more ‘remote’ and quite classified locations. So other than knowing that 50,000 residents make their home in Unit 27, I’m going in blind. I’ll help ‘those in need of a second chance at life,’ but in what capacity I’m clueless. Does it matter what I do? In return for my year of service, the SCI will grant me a full-ride scholarship to the college of my choice. Given I’m shooting for Ivy League or equivalent, I could use the help. My parents firmly believe in ‘supporting one’s self once one turns 18’ or in other words, not depleting my mother’s jewelry and vacation fund.

The boat slows and my stomach pitches up and down with the waves. I sit up and scan the horizon. What the—? Impossible. A dilapidated warehouse-like building, no larger than a two-car garage sits atop the ocean water. Other than squawking seagulls lining the roof, there’s no other sign of life. Spud easily maneuvers the boat up alongside the building and ties it down.

“Where are we?” I ask Spud. “Are we transferring to a larger boat here or something?” I’d spent the morning badgering him about our method of transportation to Unit 27. An airplane, I’d understand. A speedboat, not so much. No land mass off San Diego could house 50,000 people.

Spud bobbles his head and in a harsh tone says, “Ms. Donovan, please follow me. There is no time to waste if you are to adjust properly and start your training on time. We’re the last to arrive.” He offers me a hand, and helps me to my feet. We both leave the boat, though that does nothing to make me feel like I’m back on solid ground. The building sways with the waves. All directions offer no view of land or ships. Not good. We may be stuck here a while. Perhaps they’ll have a comfortable couch and food for the wait. I trail Spud into the dark and musty building. Disappointment strikes. The space we enter has a single, dim lightbulb which illuminates the small room enough to see peeling drywall and dark patches that look and smell like mold. A single arched doorway mirrors the door we entered on the opposite side of the room.

“OK,” Spud continues, “Ms. Donovan, go straight ahead to the end of the long corridor and into the large room. I will follow you.”

My brain won’t accept the thought of the small building containing a long corridor, much less a large room, but I’m eager to exit. I stumble forward through the dark, tunnel-like hallway for the equivalent of a city block before seeing a light ahead. My skin itches from small pinprick-like sensations from head to toe and I am parched beyond comprehension. I feel dizzy and ill, and have to stop to catch my breath as I enter the lighted room, an immense domed space as wide as a school cafeteria with pebbled walls and slate floor. Spud enters the room after me and vomits into a receptacle so violently his body convulses. He motions a small group across the room to join us before collapsing on the floor.
I notice that the wave-like motions have ceased. As I canvass the cavern-like room with my eyes, I’m positive that I am farther than the hundred feet from the boat I should be.

“Mr. Rosenberg, where on God’s green earth have you brought me?” I gasp.

“Technically, Ms. Donovan,” Spud grunts between spasms, “we are no longer on God’s green earth.”

“Say what?” I demand. I could have sworn I heard something to the effect of ‘not on’ and ‘earth’ in the same sentence, which isn’t possible.


daynight is available for purchase at:

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THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: Ephemeral (The Countenance), Addison Moore {$3.99}

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Description of Ephemeral:

Young Adult/ Mature Situations

In the grand scheme of things, you’ll be dead a lot longer than you’ll ever be alive.

The last thing Laken Stewart remembers is the oncoming car, then bursting through the windshield.

Two months dissolve without her knowledge and she finds herself in unfamiliar surroundings with strangers who not only profess to know her but insist she’s someone else entirely.

Laken discovers her long dead boyfriend, Wesley, has been thrown into this alternate world as well. He is quick to inform her she suffered a horrible fall and that her memory hasn’t fully returned. According to Wesley the other life she had—her name, her family, they were simply a side effect of her brain trauma.

In her quest for answers she meets Cooper Flanders, the son of her psychiatrist who readily believes every word she says.

Laken Stewart knows she died on that hot July afternoon, but now she’s alive—or is she?

**Addison Moore’s Celestra Series has been optioned for film by 20th Century Fox**

Other books by Addison Moore

ETHEREAL (Celestra Series Book 1)
TREMBLE (Celestra Series Book 2)
BURN (Celestra Series Book 3)
WICKED (Celestra Series Book 4)
VEX (Celestra Series Book 5)
EXPEL (Celestra Series Book 6)
TOXIC Part One (Celestra Series Book 7)
TOXIC Part Two (Celestra Series Book 7) Coming Soon!



J Bernard – Addison Moore does NOT disappoint with her new Countenance Series. Ms. Moore always leaves you wanting more, her writing is fantastic and her storyline transports you directly into the world of her characters.

K. Valentine – This book twists and turns and leaves you wanting more. If you have already read Addison Moore Celestra Series you will love this one too. If you read this one and never read the Celestra series, go get it, you wont be sorry.

Scooby4281 – You’re pulled into Laken’s world from the start. I am already addicted to the series and can’t waiit until the next book! The incredible. Ms. Moore has done it again!

Amazon Reader Reviews:

Ephemeral currently has a Amazon reader review rating of 5 stars, with 73 reviews! Read the reviews here!


Ephemeral is available for purchase at:

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Excerpt from Ephemeral:


I used to believe in things, in people, in places, and names—concrete forms of life that end at some point in the unknowable future. I used to believe memories were infallible—that they could never collapse around you like a house of cards or burn to cinders before ever touching the ground.
People vanish all the time. Other people. You hear about it on the news, see their smiling faces staring back at you on milk cartons—their pictures plastered around town like wanted posters. But it was a world within a world, and you innately knew this could never really happen.
I used to believe in death. I used to believe once they put you in that box and tucked you away for one very long night, it was finished. The sunlight, fresh air, a warm embrace, they would never be yours again. It was the final vanishing act—your curtain pulled down and covering your casket. That was the day it would all start anew. Staring into the face of God, awaiting your final judgment.
But I was wrong about everything.
I had my name, my life, and my eternal judgment revoked in one passing hour at the hands of madmen who share my bloodlines.
They took everything but my memory. They tried and failed, and now I’m nothing more than a liability—a spark in a bed of dried timber, waiting to unleash an inferno. I don’t know how long I can go before they stop me or if they even care.
I used to believe so easily, and now I strain the most insignificant details from each passing day as if they were poison.
I know one solid truth. Everything about this new world is a lie.
I’m going to infiltrate their ranks—dismantle their kingdom—take them down until they all vanish, evaporate like smoke from the planet. I plan to erase any memory of them as if they had never happened.
Or I’ll die trying.
And I just might.

In Memory of Me

In the grand scheme of things, you’ll be dead a lot longer than you’ll ever be alive.
I marinate in that truth, baste in the beauty of its wisdom while peering out at the dull emerald world. I fumble through dense woods with roots that race across the forest floor like wild, petrified snakes. Wisps of lamp-lit fog twist throughout the narrow trails as gnarled branches coil around the evergreens.
Something stirs from behind, disrupts the silence with the heavy crush of leaves. I jump—startled, as though waking from a very bad dream. My chest thumps in rhythm to the pounding in my head.
“Hello?” I call out.
I try to remember how I got here. The last solid memory I have is driving to my boyfriend Tucker’s house to rip him a new one for sleeping with Megan Bartlett, a girl I know from volleyball. I was distracted with rage, the light turned green, and I never saw the other car coming. Then the crash—I remember kissing the windshield as I bristled through it at a horrific velocity.
A groan emits from the branches—more rattling.
My feet crush over a bed of dried maple leaves, filling in the haunting void of silence.
A hard thud lands square behind me, and I turn slow on my heels.
It would have been understandable to see a deer, a bear, or even another human being. But this…
A whimper gets caught in my throat and drowns out the idea of a scream. My heart seizes and I freeze.
It’s a man—a thing, his grey skin decomposed beyond recognition, exposing dried muscle over bone, one eye missing, teeth all but gone.
It staggers forward, slashing the air with a violent swing.
I start in on a full-blown sprint, trip over an errant branch and land hard on my chest.
It comes at me—falls on its knees beside me omitting a sharp putrid stench. I let out a gurgled cry—twist and claw, scampering to my feet.
Its crooked fingers tear my sweater, easy as shredding paper.
I bolt deeper into the thicket. The forest gyrates, turns into a viridian kaleidoscope as I fumble through a dizzying maze of branches.
Loud guttural moans vibrate throughout the woods. I can feel its footsteps seconds behind. The forest darkens. The fog presses in and coats my throat with its oily haze.
Panic enlivens me. Adrenaline courses through my veins creating a heartbeat in my ears.
None of this is real—this is hell—a trapdoor within a nightmare.
My breathing quickens and my head starts to spin as I navigate the spindles, the heavily shadowed woods.
My mother once said most people are prone to run through this world blind. I remember her words and the soft mannerism in which she spoke them as I stumble from branch to branch, ripping a hole in my jeans, and losing my jacket on the offshoot of a pine.
The creature gains speed, touches me. It grazes over my hair with its necrotic fingertips. I race blindly through the woods, pushing past the pain searing through my skull. My foot catches on a root and I crash to the ground with finality.
I glance back, fully expecting to find the decaying body, the stench of death, but instead I see a boy my age—a look of surprise ripe on his face. He pulls me to safety behind the trunk of a pine and then lunges at the monster. He plucks a knife from his back pocket and wrestles the decrepit beast as it latches onto his face.
I pick up a loose branch and give a hard jab at the creature’s groin. It gives a soft gurgle as if laughing at my efforts.
A rock the size of a football catches my eye. I hoist it off the ground and lob it at the tangle of flesh rolling around in front of me.
It hits the boy on the side of the head, and he lets out an agonizing groan.
He flips the creature and lands it hard on its back. Its face holds a lavender hue, blue lips, unnatural bumps and lesions over its cheek and decomposed forehead.
The boy pummels its malformed face. He digs his knife into the eye of the beast, over and over until it ceases to writhe beneath him.
He jumps up and cleans his blade against the soft trunk of a maple with two easy swipes.
The creature sizzles. Its ragged clothes engulf in flames quick as a grassfire before extinguishing in a ball of smoke.
“What’s happening?” I pant.
“Don’t you know?” He replaces the knife in his back pocket. The hard line of his jaw pops as he suppresses a smile. “They’re biodegradable.” A rumble of laughter trembles out of him. He comes over and cradles the side of my face with his open palm, observes me as though he were a doctor. “You okay?” A stream of light falls over him, amplifying the fact he’s alarmingly handsome: tall with sandy hair and eyes the color of a lifeless sky.
“I’m fine.” I want to say. I don’t know where the hell I am, but I think there are more pressing matters than my lack of topographical orientation. “What was that?”
His brows knit together. He leans in to inspect me, skeptical that I even had to ask.
“What’s your name?” he asks, wiping the dirt off his jeans.
“Laken Stewart.” I grab him by the arm—feel his warm flesh come to life beneath my fingers. “Where am I?” I’ve never been a hundred miles from where I was born. Hell, I’ve never left Kansas. For sure, I’ve never seen a forest this dense, let alone barreled through it with my life on the line.
“Ephemeral.” He dips into me with his gaze. “Connecticut,” he adds with a touch of sarcasm.
“Oh, my God,” I whisper in fright. “I think I’m lost.” I touch my fingers to my temple as an explosion of pain rips through me.
In the distance a woman shouts my name.
“Looks like you’ve just been found.” He offers a reserved smile and holds my gaze a little longer than necessary before turning away.
There’s something intoxicating about this stranger, this earthly savior of mine, and a part of me wants to discover everything about him.
“Wait.” I catch him by the elbow. “What was that thing?”
He doesn’t say a word, just gazes at me perplexed and sorrowful.
“Laken?” The female voice spikes with agitation.
“I’d better go.” He takes a full step back. “Nice to meet you.”
“You saved me,” I say. He walks off into the fog until he disappears like an apparition. “Hey—what’s your name?” I shout after him, but he’s already vanished.
“Laken?” A raven-haired woman dressed in a power suit and heels snatches me by the wrist. “You need to keep out of the woods.” The words stream out of her like a death rattle. “Do you understand?” Her hair is slicked back in a knot, reflecting blue highlights as she moves. Her face is unearthly pale, her skin thin as paper, and I can see a track of blue veins around her eyes.
“Who are you?” I pull my hand back.
“It’s me, Laken—Ms. Paxton.” She offers a short-lived smile. “You need to get back to campus.” Her chest rises violently as she struggles to catch her breath. “Never venture outside of the academy.”
She guides me out of the oppressive forest onto a red brick path that rolls out toward a monolithic series of ivy-covered buildings. The landscape opens up in a fog-kissed world. Relief as wide as the ocean fills me as I escape those woods. I glance back into the curtain of darkness—the evergreens stand tall as a mountain, black as iron, and a shiver of fear grips me.
“Your uncle requested you meet up with your brother tonight.”
“My brother?” Fletcher died over a year ago, along with Wes, the only boy I ever loved. They drank their way into oblivion before taking a fatal swim in the lake.
“Yes, your brother.” It strangles out of her. “Do you think this is funny?”
“No.” I rub my arms. “I—”
She shoves a yellow student card at me. “You dropped this on your little jaunt in the woods.”
Laken Anderson—right face, wrong name. Issue date September 4th. Junior, Ephemeral Academy.
“Ephemeral.” I test the word out on my tongue. I stare at the student card, confused as to what it might mean.
“You’re a resident in Austen House.” Her lips twist with pride as if she procured the living quarters for me herself. “I realize how overwhelming your first day must be. Your sister is the dorm mother. She’s been waiting to orient you all afternoon.”
“My sister?” I have two. Jen is studying abroad her second year of college, and Lacey. The epicenter of Lacey’s world is plundering all my free time to help plan for her epic tenth birthday party. I love Lacey. I couldn’t love her more if I had her myself.
“Jen—your sister, Jen.” Ms. Paxton nods in frustration. Her eyes widen with horror as she circles over me with an epiphany. “I have to go.” She darts down the road in the opposite direction.
“Wait!” I call out as she evaporates in the evening shadows.
I don’t have a brother anymore.
I don’t have an uncle.
My mother is a drunk, and my sister, Jen, left the country first chance she got. I’m from Cider Plains, Kansas. I live in a dilapidated bungalow that belonged to my grandmother, which is haunted by her pissed-off ghost and the curse she bestowed upon us before she hung herself from the rafters.
My last name is Stewart, not Anderson. After I shot through the windshield, a tall radiant being declared it was not my time. He placed a hand the size of a catcher’s mitt over my face and submerged me back onto the planet.
I know for a fact I died on July 13th, the day before my cheating boyfriend’s seventeenth birthday. According to this I.D., two calendar months have dissolved without my knowledge. Here I am—same body, different name.
All I really want to know is what the hell is going on.

Ephemeral is available for purchase at:

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Hurricane Regina, Jason Z. Christie {FREE!}

President Robert Lazarus Long’s only daughter Regina has been kidnapped on Captain Dan Nolan’s watch, leaving him no choice but to try and save her. Her captor, a mysterious figure who claims to rule the world, has offered her an apprenticeship.

Trapped in Rapture, his undersea lair, she encounters wonders beyond compare and faces a terrible decision. She will gain unlimited power. All she has to do is kill him.

Follow Captain Dan as his rescue attempt takes him to Iceland, Oak Island and beyond. In a race against time and the very forces of nature themselves, he must face the cataclysm that is Hurricane Regina.

What readers are saying:

“‘Hurricane Regina’ is a very thought-provoking adventure down the rabbit hole, one that I definitely recommend.” – Megami

“The feeling of identifying with Regina is very heart racing, at times. Powerful and surprisingly intellectual for such an attempt at a pulp action tale.” – Suzannah Gortician

“To be blunt, I have to compare this book to sex.” – Ambyr

“I love the way Jason makes me feel like I am right in the middle of the action.” – JDickey

The average Amazon review rating is currently 5 stars {5 reviews}.

Click here to read more about and purchase Hurricane Regina for FREE from Amazon!

KINDLE DAILY DEAL: Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes is Just $2.99 Today Only!

Daniel Keyes wrote little SF but is highly regarded for one classic, Flowers for Algernon. As a 1959 novella it won a Hugo Award; the 1966 novel-length expansion won a Nebula. The Oscar-winning movie adaptation Charly (1968) also spawned a 1980 Broadway musical.

Following his doctor’s instructions, engaging simpleton Charlie Gordon tells his own story in semi-literate “progris riports.” He dimly wants to better himself, but with an IQ of 68 can’t even beat the laboratory mouse Algernon at maze-solving:

I dint feel bad because I watched Algernon and I lernd how to finish the amaze even if it takes me along time.I dint know mice were so smart.

Algernon is extra-clever thanks to an experimental brain operation so far tried only on animals. Charlie eagerly volunteers as the first human subject. After frustrating delays and agonies of concentration, the effects begin to show and the reports steadily improve: “Punctuation, is? fun!” But getting smarter brings cruel shocks, as Charlie realizes that his merry “friends” at the bakery where he sweeps the floor have all along been laughing at him, never with him. The IQ rise continues, taking him steadily past the human average to genius level and beyond, until he’s as intellectually alone as the old, foolish Charlie ever was–and now painfully aware of it. Then, ominously, the smart mouse Algernon begins to deteriorate…

Flowers for Algernon is a timeless tear-jerker with a terrific emotional impact. –David Langford

What readers are saying:

“A tale that is convincing, suspenseful and touching.”–The New York Times

“An ingeniously touching story . . . Moving . . . Intensely real.”–The Baltimore Sun

The average Amazon Reader Review is currently 4.5 stars {539 reviews}.

Click here to read more about and purchase Flowers for Algernon for $2.99* from Amazon

*Price goes back up to $12.06 tomorrow!

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