Books I want(I actually need them as much as I need air) in 2018

I have a long list of all the books I need to read in 2018.  I want them all now and it is torture to wait but alas  I must.  Below is a continually growing list of all the books I want to read this year and when they come out.

Bookgasm-when-the-book-you-are-waiting-for-has-been-released..jpg (420×294)

Hero at the Fall by Alwyn Hamilton – January 30th 2018

A Reaper at the Gates by Sabaa Tahir – April 10th 2018

Forest Queen by Betsy Cornwell – August 7th 2018

Rage by Cora Carmack – June 5th 2018

War Storm by Victoria Aveyard – May 15th 2018

Ash Princess by Laura Sebastian – June 14th 2018

Smoke in the Sun by Renee Ahdieh – April 24th 2018

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik – July 10th, 2018

To Kill a Kingdom by Alexandra Christo – March 6th 2018

The Queen’s Rising by Rebecca Ross – February 6th 2018

The Defiant by Lesley Livingston – January 23rd, 2018

Dread Nation by Justina Ireland – April 3rd, 2018

Secret Heir Dynasty by M. J. Prince – February 27th 2018

more……..

Advertisements

Sharing Saturday Six

I’m back with another Sharing Saturday.  Today, I will be sharing a small excerpt from a mostly sarcastic story featuring a man who can’t escape his demons.

He came home everyday at exactly five fifteen pm. Five minutes later he would heat up his tasteless turkey that he kept in the freezer for years on end, then he sat down and stared at he wall while he ate until six. After that he went up to his room and began to count his store of cash for George did not believe in a thing called banks. He believed that they would take his money and he would never have enough to pay off his debt. This debt was according to George owed to a monstrosity called Mecebos who was a demon supposedly sent to torment him. Mecebos was probably only a figment of a mind unhinged but then again who knows what lurks in the realm of possibility.

Sharing Saturday Five

Once again I am back with a Sharing Saturday which I started four weeks ago.  Today I will be sharing the first paragraph from a short story called Timelessness Itself.

It was a cold and dark night.  A storm rumbled, pouring out its tears for all to see.  A woman stumbled around, searching for her car.  She slipped and fell, landing hard, crying out in pain.  That’s when she saw it: a single, blood-red book shone against the dark pavement.  An instant later there was a scream that shattered the night.  Then silence–except for the incessant patter of drops.  The book slowly dissolved.

 

The Dark Days Club by Alison Goodman

It’s London, 1812 and Lady Helen Wrexhall is living a life full of balls and trying to secure a marriage proposal.  Despite that she is soon drawn into regency London when a maid of her household mysteriously disappears.  There she meets Lord Carlston, a man intent on finding and destroying the demons that infiltrate society.  Helen shouldn’t be anywhere near the man who is surrounded by a taint of scandal but he offers a way to find out why her parents died.  Soon she is drawn into a conspiracy that could destroy the world as she knows it.  But can she trust a man whose life is built on lies and does she have the strength to face the dangers of an unknown world?

image_alisongoodman02.png (398×200)

Sharing Saturday Four

The holidays are practically on top of us, so in celebration I will be sharing the first two pages of a novel I recently started.  I am currently calling it The Spanish that Took my Heart.  Enjoy and Happy Holidays to all!!

Chapter One

I couldn’t breath.  My corset was yanked so tight that it was strangling.  It didn’t help that I was surrounded by people.  People in all of their finery and covered in layers of perfume, jewels, makeup, and cloth of every color and design.  I didn’t want to go to this abhorrence called a ball.  I wanted to be at our mansion with the sound of the sea filling my ears and the wind lifting my hair from my shoulders and whisking it into knots.  No corsets.  No encasing dresses.  

Since I was a child I had always loved the sea.  The lapping waves gently rolling onto my feet and in between my toes soothed my restless soul.  When I was younger my father had let me run free–too caught up in grief over my mother’s death.  Every time I asked about my mother he would not tell me a single thing about her.  All I remembered of her was glimpses of her bright brown hair and her blue as the sea eyes which I could see in my own face.  My hair was nothing like hers.  I had inherited my father’s unusual, almost white blonde hair.  I remembered nothing else of her except that she was tall much like myself.  I was taller than most men my father included.

I slipped through the crowd, eager for air, an empty space where I could breath.  I stumbled out of the masses and opened the first handle I found.  It was a library and no one was currently occupying the space.  I sighed and began to relax a little, taking in my surroundings.  The space was cavernous and filled from floor to ceiling with books.  There were comfortable looking sofas which seemed unused and were a dull and hideous color.  I kicked off my shoes and dug my feet into the soft bear’s fur rug could almost be mistaken for sand.   Suddenly a viselike grip held my arm.  Instinctively, I twisted, ducked and placed whoever had gripped me in a chokehold.

“Can you let go, Milady,” a mild voice said.  I complied, recognizing the insolent voice instantly.  

“Crevell,” I hissed.  “You should not of sneaked up on me.  It’s rude.”

“You should not react like that.  Can you hold yourself together, please.”  

I shook my head and stalked towards the closest divan.  “Why are you here?” I said, flopping down into the weepy pillows of the divan.

“I followed you for who could resist such a beauty.” he said.

I gasped and stood.  “How dare you.”

“I am daring to do nothing,” he said.  

I turned and took a deep breath.  I could not let him get to me.  “Leave. Please,” I said.

“But if I complied, then you might never hear the message I have for you.  Oh well. Pity.”  He turned to leave, and I grabbed him.

“Ah, look now who is grabbing who,” he said, peering into my eyes with a challenge.  

I let him go, crossing my arms. “What is the message,” I said as nonchalant as I could despite the rising of my stomach.

“Oh, so you don’t want me to leave, my fair one.”  

An eyebrow of his raised and my lip curled.  An urge to slap him arose.

“Just tell me the message,” I said through gritted teeth.

Sharing Saturday Two

I recently started this new post last week.  See it Here.  I am so excited to be sharing my ideas and stories with you all.  I hope you enjoy.  This week I will be sharing the first paragraph of a novel I started.  I would greatly appreciate it if you gave me feedback.  Enjoy!

I‘m strange even though my mom tries to deny it.  I have purple eyes.  Deep purple almost black but acutely purple. My dad never cared and said they made me look pretty and that I was his perfect little girl.  My mom though, was hard on me about them and constantly berated me when I did not wear dark glasses that hid my eyes. That was the only strange thing that happened to me in my fifteen years until the day that everything went haywire.