Thursday, 20 April 2017

Book Blast: Fractured Angel by Ken Williams



Title: Fractured Angel

Author: Ken Williams

Release Date: 6 June 2014

Publisher: Sakura Publishing

Goodreads | Amazon 


How would you go about trying to help your daughter who, suffering her first psychotic break at fifteen, is chased by her wounded mind to the streets of Santa Barbara? That is the dilemma that Lynne Swanson faces. Out of her element, and definitely out of her comfort zone for this professional woman, she is forced to seek the help of Kerry Wilson, a social worker for the homeless. Unfortunately for her, Kerry is rough-necked loner that has no inclination to hold the hand of a woman who he feels is out for a lark at the expense of his homeless clients. The harsh and deadly realities of the streets in one of the wealthiest cities in the world and an attempt to close a homeless shelter, just as winter sets in, produces a dramatic race against time with the life of Lynne’s daughter in the balance.

 ~ Teaser ~

Chapter 1

Shadows danced. Living darkness surrounded her like a malevolent maelstrom. She clawed with broken nails under the oversized sweater. Dread coiled in her stomach. Lifting the sweater, she looked down at her handiwork: red and swollen welt lines had begun to ooze out blood.
Her dying fire glinted off yellow eyes, staring at her from the darkness with deadly indifference. They were already considering her dead meat, perhaps breakfast. The thought brought a brittle smile to Tracy’s chapped lips. It wasn’t far from the truth.
Because of the weak light, her real tormentor was banished to the shadows. This quieting knowledge allowed her to pay closer attention to the fat rat. Long whiskers twitching—its manically cruel and amoral eyes focused on her. Tracy curled her arms under her legs and drew them harder into herself, making her slight frame appear even smaller. For a fifteen year old, she hadn’t filled out, or grown much since she’d been twelve. And the little weight she had gained recently was lost to a near starvation diet. Her clothes now hung loosely.
Fear dropped her body temperature. She shivered. It forced a scream that she quickly drowned with parched saliva. Her head snapped left to right. She knew he was there. She could feel his menacing presence. She knew from experience that he could reach out at any moment, raking her insides with barbed claws.
Home for Tracy was an oppressive cave, like a dwelling made of corrugated tin. In reality, it was a convergence of drainage pipes that opened up, offering refuge for her homeless clan, haphazardly formed. She shared the shelter with a rat. She also shared it with others— residing both within her mind and without. He, on the other hand, was a visitor, coming and going unannounced, and always unwanted. He didn’t care for what others wanted, or their feelings. Social niceties, privacy, and so much more were absurdities. He did, however, thrive on discomfort, especially hers.
Tracy had to pee. But her bathroom was the trash-strewn field behind the tunnel, and his presence crippled her with fright. When was the last time she had cleaned up? Showers were one of her fantasies: To smell soap. To feel hot water rinsing silky shampoo from her hair. A smile came. And it rapidly broke. She knew the others had the courage to make periodic runs over to the Sally for occasional showers. But she didn’t.
She scratched through a hole in her sweater at the body lice. She knew that her smell offended the others, but they were too protective of each other to boot her out. She wouldn’t last long on the outside.
She was tired. Her eyes felt like lead. Wistfulness forced her gaze over to her bed, a thread worn sleeping bag that had been pushed off to the side. It hadn’t always been that way.
She bolted upright. Fear hopscotched from goose bump to goose bump across her skin. She shuddered. It wasn’t the presence of the rat. Anytime she thought about the changes that had come over her, it was fear that gripped her heart.
When the voices and intrusive thoughts had first begun to surface, she had thought of sharing them with her mom or others, but she was afraid of ridicule, and she was unsure if that wasn’t the way of adulthood. After all, she was just a kid. How was she supposed know what normal was, and wasn’t?
Sitting in almost total darkness, trepidation drew aged lines across her face. Staring hard at the rat, she watched him pawing at the dirt. Was he about to charge her like a raging bull? She looked around, hoping to see her companions; that is—the ones who existed independent of her mind. But, like so often recently, aloneness stared back. Cold hollowness froze her insides as if they were carved out by a scalpel. A hard shiver rolled over her. Fear registered in degrees.
Tensing her muscles, she prepared for flight. Paused. She convinced herself that it was just an ungrounded fear. She pretended that the other wasn’t present. And, the rat was no threat. He hadn’t done anything to hurt her. He hadn’t even really threatened her. As was often the case, the frightening situation was made harmless once she was able to acknowledge fear and meet it head on.
She smiled. Maybe the rat could be a friend? She could use a friend. She stared down at it. It was lonely too! Tracy’s paranoia dissipated. The insight that a fellow creature shared sadness with her opened her heart. Looking about, she found a chunk of stale bread from last night’s dinner.
Slowly, she reached out her hand, holding the bread before the rat. An offering. The rat perked up with interest. With no fear, it quickly paced the few steps that separated him from breakfast. It sniffed the bread, and began to nibble. A crooked smile came upon Tracy when his long whiskers tickled her hand. Suddenly, the rat chomped down hard, yanking the bread free. She squealed with delight. Her eyes brightened, honoring the courage of the rat. If only she had such inner strength!
That last wish washed sadness over Tracy, sweeping the brightness from her eyes.
Tracy once again looped her arms through her legs and began rocking back and forth to the beat of a cadence, heard only by her. Humming a gentle children’s lullaby, her soft voice filled the lonely void. Abruptly, she stopped. The sudden silence was first oppressive, and then terrifying. An ache swelled within her body and soul, rising like high tide before a storm. She shut her eyes. Tears broke from them. She swallowed the liquefied salt hard. A new insight: Fear had a taste. She missed her Mom. Maybe she would know what to do about the voices.
Her lips pinched hard. Her mom wasn’t there. She was alone. Her only companion was a rat. It was possible that even her roommates only existed in her head. Maybe, the only reality was Him—the danger that lurked in the darkness. Her body locked up as she forced herself not to look about. Maybe he was simply waiting for the fire to die out, before he jumped from the blackness to devour her. Tracy rocked harder and began humming again. She ratcheted up the volume and increased the intensity. No longer was it a lullaby. It was the only trick she had left. And it did help with the voices. The dying light flickered—its will to live fleeing. Her own, was not too far behind.

Like what you read? Get your copy @ Amazon 

~ About the Author ~


 Ken Williams is an Author, poet, Vietnam Vet, and homeless rights advocate among many other things. He strives to live his life peacefully and enjoys writing about topics that matter. Topics like how to help homeless, for example. Not only that, but Ken has been the recipient of many awards, including the prestigious CIVIL RIGHTS HERO AWARD and the A.C.L.U. Distinguished Services Award in California. Want to know more about him? Visit him @ Website


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Wednesday, 19 April 2017

Book Tour - Tidal by Lisa Terry


Title: Tidal
Author: Lisa Terry
Release Date: 24 March 2017


Most of the south Carolinians who hate 17 year old Jessa Perce do so in the open, but one of those haters, bent on revenge against Jessa and her boyfriend, pulls the strings from behind a curtain. Figuring out if this revenge has anything to do with her parents’ mysterious deaths is more than Jessa can comprehend. Believe it or not, she has bigger, more immediate problems. Jessa and her step-brother have to find a way to keep their little sister happy since their new guardian doesn’t seem interested in the three of them. When the little sister’s need for stability leads Jessa to a new profession, she realizes happiness for herself is an impossibility and love is just as elusive. 


~ Teaser ~

Chapter 1 (small part)

Whoosh. My whole body jolts, and I grind my teeth to hold back a stupid little-girl scream. Slowly dragging my eyes from the tiny airplane window, I look to my side expecting to see the face of the overly helpful (and really aggravating) flight attendant. Not even. Sitting in the seat, his leg almost touching mine is a boy, maybe closer to a man, and he puts his finger to his full lips. Brown eyes dance with amusement until they lock on mine. I crack my mouth open before his desire attacks my nose. “That’s not your seat.” My voice is raspy like I haven’t talked to anyone in a while. I haven’t. He raises his black eyebrows, a scar cuts through the one on the right, and he swoops his brown waves off his forehead. “Well, I know we were supposed to switch seats at the beginning of the flight if we were going to, but how was I supposed to know my neighbor would be a snorer and an armrest hogger?” “I reserved that seat,” I whisper. If JJ would’ve sent the company plane after me, this wouldn’t be necessary. Isn’t our island big enough for first-class seating planes now? “You like your space, huh?” He smiles a smile that’s probably supposed to charm me right out of my pants. It’s not about the space. I just like to inhale clean air, not an aggravating boy’s desires.  “You’re not supposed to sit there.” “But you won’t rat me out.” He relaxes his arm on the armrest and nods. “Nice.” After a glance around the other seats, it’s obvious he’s safe from anyone else caring too. Most people are passed out since it’s a late-night flight. My eyes lock on the seat in front of me, its blue and gold weave looking like someone puked blueberries and eggs. What would he do if I yelled? Nope, I don’t have the nerve. But he doesn’t know that. Fighting a smile, I fling my mouth open. His eyes double in size before he clamps his hand over my mouth. “Don’t.” With my head jammed against the headrest, I have to stretch my eyeballs to the max to see him. And almost crack up at his face.  His oh-shit-what-have-I-done face. But I didn’t get a good breath before, and now I have to inhale through my nose: I want to stay here. I want to get to know this girl and find out why she isn’t happy. I reach up and snatch his hand away. “I am happy.” “Whoa…pretty defensive. Wait, I didn’t say you weren’t.” Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap, I’m a moron. “Go away,” I whisper. “Tell me how you knew that.” When I don’t answer he sighs. “Okay, then tell me why you’re not happy.” I could answer him. And then this nosy boy could laugh and move on. But I’m not brave enough to shout my angst to the world. Can there be anyone on this earth more pitiful than me? “Perfectly happy.” My problems have very easy solutions according to Professor Renard. I could have sex with the nearest asshole—you’d love that wouldn’t you, Renard? Get a little bit of the sultry eye? I have two months to figure “sexy” out or I’m out. Will Mother find somewhere else to stick me, or will she insist I stay home? Excuse me, Mother, while I gag constantly over your stupid, petty desires. Suppressing a yawn, I try to ignore my seat thief and stare out the window again. “I’m going to be out there one day,” comes his gruff voice from behind me. His pullover almost touches my cheek when he points out the window. “It’s where I belong.” “Belong?” I’ve never felt like I belonged here either. How could I? But a freak like me, inhaling people’s desires instead of smells, doesn’t belong anywhere. “Yup.” His lips pop on the P. He’s got to be screwing with me. That or somehow he’s contracted my “ability.” I eye him, but there’s no hint of a smile on his face. I shut my mouth and chance a tiny breath: I can’t wait to get my degree and pilot’s license and then on to Astronaut Corps. I want to get to know this girl. Oh, an astronaut. But what’s up with this getting to know me stuff? He just wants to get to know me? Weird. “Are you gay?” My face heats up to an astronomical temperature. Why can’t I just be smart? “No. Why?” Why? Good question. Like, why couldn’t my freak ability be something helpful like super-intelligence so I wouldn’t ask stupid, embarrassing questions? Or what about something my modeling professors would love—owning my beauty. The cherry on top of my confidence sundae would be not breaking out in hives when a photographer mentions the word sexy. “Nothing.” “Do I match too well or something?” He tugs at his navy blue pullover. “No,” I say with a smile. “Finally.” Finally what? Did I do something? “What?” He grins at me. “A smile. You looked almost normal for a second.” That’s me, the exotic blonde beauty...normal would be nice. And Professor Renard thinks my looks are a good thing. “You’re going to get an early wrinkle,” he says. He runs his finger down the center of my forehead to the top of my nose. I freaking let him. And I have no idea why. Yes, I do! I need sexy…sultry. Experience to draw from so I’ll photograph better. Yeah, that’s gonna work—we’ll just bump uglies right on the plane. But a kiss…. I swivel my eyes toward him to get a secret eyeful. His brown hair is wavy, almost curly. It’s the kind that looks soft and silky and very finger-runable. Kinda like a little boy’s. His eyes are brown. Just normal brown, but they’re soft and happy. Below them his face angles to a point, though his jaw line is squared. Slowly I bring my eyes back to my ugly seat. I clench my teeth; my face heats up again. Like what you read? Continue by getting your copy @ Amazon 

 ~ About the Author ~

author pic 
Lisa Terry lives in the South riding the state lines of Florida and Alabama. She has enough animals to call it a small farm, so she’s either insane or caring. Or insanely caring. She’s a print news reporter, and editor, and an aspiring Hogwarts student. On any given day, you can find Lisa playing video day, you can find Lisa playing video games, sitting on the beach or organizing per pagents. She gave up on fitting in a long time ago and now is fine with being called a walking contradiction. Lisa writes Young Adult and New Adult: contemporary, thriller, mystery, horror and paranormal.

You can find more about her @

~ Other Books by this Author ~ 

Title: Moment(s)
Release Date: 10 Jan 2015


They're dying to be fans, Scottish rocker Julian McLane lives as normally as possible. But fame can be lonely, which might be why he'd spent a year looking for a girl he caught making a wish behind the concert arena. his fans aren't happy to share him now that he has found Emilie - too bad their violent dispeleasure only puches the couple together. Emilie needs protection from rabid fans, so Julian convinces her to tour with him and his prank-loving bandmates so his security team can wath over her too. Julian thinks tehir coupledom is as right as a long song. But something's very wrong about murder victims wearing the band's concert bracelets. Someone seems intent on downsizing the fandom. Julian holds a twisted mess of clues about the killer's identity, with every day bringing a different theory, and he's beginning to think finding the killer means losing Emilie forever.

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Monday, 3 April 2017

Book Tour: Rude Boy USA by Victoria Bolton


Title: Rude Boy USA
Author: Victoria Bolton
Series: Rude Boy USA #1
Release Date: 25 December 2015


Say good-bye to the era of godfathers. The Chimera Group has put a new face on organized crime. Mob boss Bernie Banks and his associates—John, Ben, and Jerome—differ from your ordinary Sicilian and Irish mob families. Two white, two black, they style themselves after the Rude Boy culture made popular in Jamaica. Operating as an investment shell company supported by illegal activities, the Chimera Group hopes to become as powerful as other crime families and gain respect from the Cosa Nostra. Bernie, a war veteran of Jewish and Greek descent, begins his business in his apartment and grows it into a multimillion-dollar empire. He and his crew resemble a more sophisticated subculture of urban street gangsters with their Ray-Ban sunglasses, loafers, and debonair style. But they want fear and admiration. Their efforts draw the attention of the rival Ambrosino family, and they face internal strife when one of the associates begins dating a former Playboy Club waitress who wants in on the group. Will they make it to the top, or will they fall?

~ Teaser ~

In the middle of the night in a trashy abandoned lot in Harlem, New York, there were four men. Three of them had arrived together as a team. The fourth man, Sammy, was their victim, and they had tied up his arms and legs. Sammy was not associated with the others. He had stolen money from the leader of the group. Sammy would not divulge details of the theft. His silence did not help his situation as each of the three men took turns beating him until they got him to talk. One of the three men turned to the others. “He looks young. He looks very young.” One of the men responded, “He looks old enough to go to war. Nobody cares how young you look when you are in a war.” Sammy continued to taunt them back. “You guys are fucking trash,” Sammy said to the men, and he spat on one of them. The man Sammy spat on told him, “Watch your goddamn mouth!” Sammy ensured them that they would never get information from him and said they could kiss his ass. The three men looked at each other. They began torturing and pistol-whipping Sammy in return. Irritated, the man who Sammy spat on got the idea to stuff money in Sammy’s ass and mouth for being greedy and talking too much shit. He had warned the tied-up man to watch his mouth, and this was the consequence of ignoring that warning. Once they were finished with him, they put a plastic bag over his head, tossed him in the trunk of an abandoned car in the lot, and closed the trunk. A fifth man rode up in a car. He got out to see the damage that the three men had produced. They opened the trunk to show him. The fifth man’s face showed his objection. “Was this necessary? Are we wasting money now?” the gentleman said to his three associates. One of them said, “It’s theater.” Another associate added, “He asked for it. He asked us to do this. He told me to kiss his ass. He likes money, so...” He shrugged. The last associate added, “It’s only two hundred dollars in singles. It looks like a lot, but it isn’t.” The fifth man looked down at the body and slammed the trunk shut. “Fine, we will discuss this back at the office,” he said. He and his three associates got in the car and headed back to Midtown Manhattan.
Like what you just read? Get more @ Amazon

 ~ About the Author ~


  Writer Victoria Bolton lives in New York. A graduate of the College of Westchester, she works as a computer technician in schools and as a part-time actress. Bolton previously released the books in the Rude Boy USA series (Rude Boy USA Series Volume 1), BunnyWine (Rude Boy USA Series Volume 2) The final book in the series The Tide is High will be released in September. You can find more about her @

~ Other Books in This Series ~ 


Title: BunnyWine
Series: Rude Boy USA #2
Release Date: 11 May 2016


Title: The Tide is High
Series: Rude Boy USA #3
Release Date: 30 Aug 2016

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