Friday, August 30, 2013

Cover Reveal - STILL NIGHTS

I know a lot of people may miss this because of the holiday weekend and all, but I'll post it again later. I've come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter if it's a planned event or just a spur of the moment post. My last cover reveal was planned and paid for. It didn't make a difference as far as sales go that I can see.

If you've read Jenny's Blue Velvet, you've heard her talk about this upcoming book once or twice.

Start the music. Get ready for it. I bring you the beautiful cover created by the talented Steven Novak and the blurb for Still Nights.



Sammy's lost.

She's looking for a way out of the dark pit she's swimming in. A former police officer, she spends her days sitting on the couch and nights sleeping with her old partner turned friend with benefits. She shot a kid while on duty. It wasn't intentional. He threatened her and she panicked. But that one mistake won't stop haunting her. It's destroyed her life, if that's what you'd call the daily routine she lived before that unfortunate event.

Sammy has never seen a ghost even though her estranged husband is the famous Walker the Ghost Stalker, ghost hunter extraordinaire. She used to want so desperately to experience what her husband and friends call a supernatural thrill, but that desire ended when her life fell apart. The only reason she continues going on investigations is to spend time with her husband.

One night, Sammy receives a worrisome call. She rushes out in a raging storm to locate her husband and friends. What she finds instead would scare the shit out of anyone. And she regrets ever going on that last paranormal investigation. What has this ghost hunting crap gotten her into anyway?

Fan of American Horror Story? You'll enjoy the novella Still Nights, a horrific paranormal thriller for adults only.


Coming October, 2013

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Happy Release Day, Jenny's Blue Velvet!

Today is the official release day of my debut adult novella, Jenny's Blue Velvet. To celebrate, Xpresso Book Tours is hosting a blitz. One of the giveaways on this awesome day is a $25 Amazon gift card. To enter, fill out the Rafflecopter below and then go buy Jenny's Blue Velvet. Enjoy!

 Jenny's stuck.

She's tried just about every occupation she can think of and will be digging out of student debt for a very long time, but has nothing to show for it. Her everyday routine feels like a prison. And her marriage? Well, let's just say it's been a little one-sided lately and the money she threw down on the toys from Lover's Erotic Store was well worth it and then some.

Jenny decides her next big step is to become a romance writer. Romance books are flying off the virtual shelves, after all. This will be her big break, her escape from the prison, and a way to freedom. Self-publishing is all the rage these days. She'll be a best seller in no time.

When Jenny makes friends with a woman named Cassandra from the gym, she instantly decides that her new friend will make a perfect main character in her upcoming book. After the first chapter, real life begins to resemble the fiction she's writing. Her friendship blossoms, sex with her husband turns into a daily feast, and her job gets more interesting with each chapter written.

Out of the blue, a person who is a close friend with her husband and who is dating Cassandra disappears. As the mystery behind the missing person unfolds, Jenny wonders if she might be responsible for his possible death. And if she is, what will be the consequence? What has this writing business gotten her into?

JENNY'S BLUE VELVET, a novella, is a psychological thriller for adults only due to sexual content.
Enter to win:

At this website because my Rafflecopter isn't working: My Book Addiction

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The big daddy of all excerpts -- Jenny's Blue Velvet -- Countdown to Release Day

Where did the countdown excerpts go? Due to unforeseen circumstances, I've missed the last couple days worth of excerpts. Let's make up for it now, shall we? Below, please find the first chapter to Jenny's Blue Velvet, available now on Amazon Kindle and tomorrow, August 22nd, everywhere else.

Jenny's Blue Velvet
a novella
by Angela Carlie
All rights reserved



adjective
characterized by elegance or beauty of form, manner, movement, or speech; elegant

I can’t breathe.

My lungs collapse into the size of peas and are having a fit in my chest. I’m panting. Sweat drips from my face, probably the color of a beet. And the pain burns from deep within parts of my body I only learned about in cadaver lab while in college—part of my eight years of higher education, even though I never received a degree in anything. I’m still paying off student loans and have nothing to show for it. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I did get a certificate in the dental assistant profession, which was only a ten-month course. But after working that gig for a few years, my back protested from bending over patients all day and I couldn’t do it anymore. 

A victim of an indecisive personality. One minute I want to be a nurse, the next a paralegal, a dental assistant and so on. And now? A runner. I must be crazy.

“You’re doing great, honey!” My always-looks-hot-especially-while-running husband, Jason, turns around for a brief break in his jog. I smile. What does he know? He’s not even out of breath. I’m dying here. This is a piece of cake for him. He’s so sweet to stick it out with me for my first ever 5K. What was I thinking? I wasn’t ready for this stupid race, and why the hell did I pick the Starlight Parade of all the runs in Portland to choose from? I’m sure there are plenty of races that don’t include an audience waiting for a parade to start along the entire route.

A group of skinny girls in tutus giggle by me. Jason’s head follows as they pass. I can’t blame him. Their skin isn’t purple and sweaty.
Did I mention my lungs are burning? And my legs? My thighs are probably chaffed from rubbing together.

I slow my pace on this hill. The crowd cheers the runners on. Tall buildings loom high above the narrow streets. The sun is setting, reflecting a mellow orange onto the runners ahead. A stuffed giraffe head bounces up and down along with all kinds of costumed people, celebrating the joy of running or something like that. I find no joy in this.

Two kids stick their hands out in front of me. I unenthusiastically tap them with my sweaty palm. Gross. “Right on! Keep it up!” they say. Whatever. I growl.

Step. Step. Step. My feet tap the concrete. Gentle. Keep my steps small. Just don’t stop. This pain will end soon. Deep breaths. Oh, crap, I can’t. Is that the finish line up there?

Jason gives me a thumbs up. Look at him, all supportive and gorgeous. His ass, bopping in front of me, is totally squeezable if only I could catch up with him. Strong shoulders and legs. With each lunge forward, his calves contract. His entire body is one lean bundle of muscle. How I ever got so lucky, I’ll never know.

We met when I was twenty-two and taking classes at the community college. That’s back when I wanted to be a nurse and took my prerequisites to get into the RN program. We were partners in a CPR class. Yeah, the instructor who paired us knew what he was doing. Six feet of raw athleticism paired with the short, chubby-luscious chick in the hippie skirt and Birkenstocks. The past is always a little fuzzy, but that’s how I remember it. Needless to say, it worked out well for me. Eighteen years, several careers—twenty-seven to be precise—and two kids later, here we are. More like, here I am. He’s way up there, trying to keep within reach to make sure I don’t stop.

You may be asking yourself why the hell I’m running in a 5K if I don’t enjoy running. Well, to answer that very good question, I shall shrug. I’m almost forty years old, and deep inside of me, I know there is a runner waiting to burst out. I’ve suppressed her my entire life and it’s time for her to emerge. To break through, bringing her vibrant, young, in-shape body with her.

My name is Jenny. J-E-N-N-Y. Plain and simple. Not Genevieve or Jennifer, but Jenny. When I was in high school, I played with various spellings to appear more eccentric, but only ended up confusing my teachers. Genni, Djeni, Zhenny. None of them worked very well, so I went back to my mother-given name. Jenny. It fits me. There’s nothing special about me. In my head, I’m tall and thin and have flowing, sunshine-blond hair and porcelain skin. In the mirror, which I try to avoid, I’m about five feet tall. Five feet and three-quarters of an inch, to be precise. Not thin, but not fat, either. 

My hair is graying, but was once dirty blond. I’ve never really completed much that I’ve started. Well, to be precise, I’ve completed one thing. I wrote and published a novella. An erotic horror titled Still Nights. I was so utterly embarrassed that I used a pen name that I pulled from a hat, Angela Carlie. It’s sold one copy. To one Jenny Arthur’s Kindle. Mrs. Arthur liked it. That’s me, in case you didn’t catch the reference.

I’m going to write a romance novel. I’ve never really read one, but they seem to be selling like bonbons to housewives on a hot summer day. My romance novel is going to be a bestseller. Once I figure out what it’s going to be about.

Elvis passes me. Elvis! I’m slower than a dead dude. He’s lit up with small Christmas lights. I will finish this. I’m not going to quit. This time it’s all me.

The air is so sultry that if all these people weren’t here, I’d start tearing off my clothes. This sweatshirt tied around my waist would be the first to go. I’d be graceful about it too, like those girls in the tutus. A runner so good at what she does, it’s like she’s a dancer instead of a runner.

Something zips into my mouth, smashing against my tongue. I spit. I gag. I wipe the nasty from my tongue onto the back of my hand. I cough, my dry lungs wanting no more of the torture.

An old man sitting in a fold-up chair on the sidewalk smirks at me. I jog the two steps it takes to reach him and wipe the back of my hand on his white shorts, bug guts galore. He jerks away and says, “Hey!” but I’m already on my way toward the finish line, so I don’t see what he does next. It’s not like he can catch up with me; he’s old. Well, maybe he can.

Jason looks back at me with those gray eyes of his. “Almost there!” He points.

There it is. The finish line! It’s not what I pictured it should look like. Runners clog beneath the metal frame built over the road. There’s an electric clock ticking away overhead. We aren’t close enough to read the time, though. Just blurry, red numbers.

I turn up my iPod. Pitbull says, “Bon, bon, bon, bon,” and then some words I can’t understand. It puts a fire into my step. I catch up with Jason. He gives me a side glance and a half grin. How people can have articulate facial expressions and run at the same time is beyond me. I’m sure my expression is only a scowl, giving the impression that everyone should get the heck out of my way or else.

I wipe the sweat from my brow. I have to pee. I’m so freaking thirsty. A few more steps ... and we’re stopped. “Move!” I say to the halted runners in front of me. We slowly cross the finish line: 36:40.

“Great job!” Jason pats my back.

I’m trying to catch my breath. I whisper, “Thanks. You too.” My angry veil disappears as I realize I just ran three-point-one miles in a row! I’ve never done that before. I look up at Jason. “We just did that.”

“We did. Together.” He kisses my forehead and grabs my hand. “I’m so proud of you.”

We make our way through the tutus and the people of Elvis and the superheroes into the stadium to the portable potties. The line isn’t nearly as long as before the race.

“I’ll wait here.” Jason stands under a tree across from the tiny green houses.

I’m able to find an open one fairly quick. Upon walking in, I immediately understand why it’s still vacant. Oh, holy crap. I stick my head out, grab some clean air, and hold it in. I peel down my shorts, which is not an easy task as they are glued to my thighs. The fabric brushes against the raw portion where my legs rubbed together while running. I suck air through my teeth as it stings like hell.
I hover over the hole and start my tinkle. My iPod slips from the pocket of my sweatshirt. It lands on the disgusting plastic floor.

Crap.

I lean forward to reach it. My forehead bonks the door, pushing me backward to land on the toilet seat. Gross! I jump up. The backs of my legs are wet. Sigh.

When I’m finished, I use toilet paper to wipe all the wetness away from my legs and my iPod.
Lucky for my hands that I’m able to squeeze a tiny bit of sanitizer out of the dispenser before exiting the nasty box.

I zigzag through the crowd. A few steps away from the tree where I left Jason, I notice he’s not alone.
I freeze. My chest constricts.

He laughs, which is a rare thing to see unless he’s watching Anchorman or is torturing an unsuspecting soul with flatulence.

She laughs. A pretty laugh too. Her long, thin legs shuffle. Platinum blond hair falls off her shoulder. Then they both look at me stopped in the middle of human traffic, all purple from running and swollen from running and parched from running.

Jason’s eyebrows come together.

Go.

I walk forward. “Hi,” I say and smile my fake-bitch smile.

Jason points out Superman and Batman wrestling a few feet away. “Isn’t that hysterical?” He laughs.
I don’t say anything because I can’t figure out why this woman is standing here. She eyes me.

“I’m gonna whiz. I’ll be right back.” Jason heads for the green houses.

I hold my hand out to the woman. “I’m Jason’s wife, Jenny. And you are?”

“Cassandra. Some people call me Candy.” Of course they do. That doesn’t even make sense. She shakes my hand with blue fingertips, and then wipes them on her nonexistent shorty-short-shorts. I blush, remembering the sanitizer still moist on my hands. Urine and sanitizer, to be precise. Her blue velvet sports bra covers her C cups and that’s about it. She’s got like a four-pack or something. Not a six, though. Like I’ve ever seen an any-pack in real life.

She looks down at my stubby legs. “You’ve got, uh ...” She points.

Oh, crap. I grab the toilet paper trailing from my shorts and drop it onto the ground. I look around.

“Um, you didn’t get it all.”

I try to turn to see what she’s talking about, but can’t.

“Here,” Jason says, jogging across from the green houses. “I’ll get it.” He bends over to peel the small pieces stuck to my leg. He drops them and grinds them into the dirt.

Cassandra gives Jason a big white toothy smile and then glances at me. “Well, it was nice to meet you.” Her smile vanishes, but then she winks at me. She waves and skips away. Really?

I look up at Jason and feel smaller than ever. “Who was that?”

“Who?” He looks around.

I sigh. “The blond who was just standing here.”

“I don’t know.” He takes the edge of his T-shirt and rubs my forehead. “You’ve got some dirt or something here.”

“Oh!” I push his shirt away. “Don’t.” Crap. Precisely.

“What is wrong with you?”

 “Nothing.”

And then an idea for my shiny new novel pops into my head.

Jenny's Blue Velvet by Angela Carlie
is available now on Amazon Kindle and everywhere else tomorrow, 
August 22, 2013

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Excerpt 6 -- Jenny's Blue Velvet -- Countdown to Release Day

As you know, the official release day of Jenny's Blue Velvet is August 22nd, which is 4 days away. I've decided to have a Pre Release Day Sale starting, uh... how about now? From now until the evening of August 21st, you can buy Jenny's Blue Velvet for Amazon's Kindle for only 99 cents. That's right, only 99 cents! Grab your Kindle and download this story now! You'll be glad you did. :)

Check it out ----->  Jenny's Blue Velvet on Amazon Kindle

And now, enjoy excerpt 6!



His rough hand traced along the curve between Candy’s hip and her ribs, and then down her arm to rest on her fingers. He lifted them to his lips and kissed each blue fingernail, one by one.
“Tell me about blue,” he said.

--Jenny's Blue Velvet by Angela Carlie, August 22, 2013


Cover Reveal -- Momentum by Emily Ann Ward



Momentum
What’s a cruel ex-boyfriend compared with a government organization out for your powers?

Aaron and Anna have fallen in love, despite an ex that threatened to tear them apart. When they start zapping evil cheerleaders with their powers over electricity, they’re forced to break off their relationship to avoid attention from the Agency. A part of the Department of Defense that studies Pairs like Aaron and Anna, the Agency is searching for the source of the Pairs’ powers and doesn’t care who gets in the way.

Anna tries to blend in at the camp where she and Aaron start working for the summer, but it’s not easy when touching your not-boyfriend invites lightning storms. Only weeks pass before a dark secret and an attack from the Agency tear apart their temporary place of refuge. If the camp isn’t safe, where is? 



Add it to your Goodreads shelves

Read the first book, Connection on Amazon or Barnes & Noble (or jump in with Momentum, it’s totally possible to start with book two!)

Emily around the web: Facebook, Twitter, Website/Blog

Emily Ann Ward is the author of Finding Fiona, Le Garde series, and The Protectors series. One of her first stories featured a young girl whose doll came to life. The rest is history. When it comes to fiction, she writes mainly young adult, contemporary, and fantasy. She also writes nonfiction, ranging from stories of her travels to thoughts on the Bible. Aside from writing, she loves traveling and she’s a content editor with Entranced Publishing. Currently, she lives in Oregon with her husband Chris and their cats. Visit her website at http://emilyannward.com