Fracture by D. D. Chant

Title:  Fracture
Series:  The Chronicles of Discord
Author:  D.D. Chant
Genre:  Dystopian Adventure
Publication Date:  03/03/2013
Length (Pages/# Words):  97,620
Publisher:  Self Published
Cover Artist:  D.D. Chant

Blurb
In a world torn apart by war, three nations stand divided.

The Free Nation

Senator Burton and his son Ben arrive in the Tula strongholds for peace talks, but find that a treaty between the two nations has a price. Confronted by a world of sedate tranquility the two men are appalled to learn that the Tula Council rules with an iron rod of fear and repression. The Council removes anyone who dares to stand in the way of their reforms and Ben uncovers a secret that puts his life in danger.

The Tula

Astra has been pressured into working for the very Council that threatens to kill her loved ones. No stranger to loss, the precariously balanced world she has constructed begins to fracture when Ben starts asking difficult questions about her past. As her deepest secrets are uncovered, Astra finds there are secrets in her childhood that even she is unaware of.

The Una

Kai is Apprentice Headman to the Una people. Unaccountably called upon to sacrifice his honour in the name of peace, Kai's hatred toward this injustice proves all consuming. If the time comes, will he be able to forgive the woman that betrayed him?
When these three worlds collide ugly truths come to light on every side. Is there any way to make peace, or will the world end in discord.

Links  Amazon (Canada & UK) | Smashwords | B&N | Goodreads | Shelfari

Review So, I've had a bit of a family emergency, which has affected my reading time. I'm beyond frustrated about it, but what can you do, right? I've read a couple of this author's books in the past, and I'm loving what I've read of this book so far! I'm confident that if my opinion of this book changes, it will only be for the better.

Bio Hi everyone!
My name is Dee Dee, I’m twenty seven and I live in a beautiful part of Devon, England with my family. I have a younger sister, Jingle, who is a brilliant guitar player, some chickens, duck, geese, pheasants, a cat (that adopted us when we moved in!!!) and some Koi.
Fracture is the first book in the Chronicles of Discord series and is a dystopian adventure. I also write post-apocalyptic/dystopian fiction (the Broken City series) and historical romance/adventure (the Lady Quill Chronicles series). I also have a series of short contemporary humour stories (Claire series).
I really hope you enjoy reading my books as much as I enjoy writing them.
I love reading and have a kindle: I read almost anything with adventure and romance in it! I also like to cook and wear impractical high heels!!! And as you might have noticed I have a horrible addiction to exclamation marks!!!

Links
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Excerpt “I thought you looked thirsty, Mr. Burton.”
Ben turned to find Councillor Sendel holding out a champagne flute toward him and accepted it with a light hearted smile.
“How has Astra been treating you?” asked Councillor Sendel conversationally.
“With the length of her arm between us,” grimaced Ben.
Councillor Sendel chuckled softly.
“I'm not surprised. I hear she took you to the library?”
Ben turned to find Sendel smiling softly at him over his glass. Ben felt a prickle of unease work its way over his skin.
How did Councillor Sendel know what he and Astra had done during the day?
Ben tried to shake off his discomfort. After all it had been no secret that he and Astra were to explore the city together.
“I guess she doesn’t like me much.” He watched Sendel take another sip of champagne. “By the way, congratulations: three terms is very impressive.”
Councillor Sendel appeared to have trouble swallowing and Ben suddenly felt his sharp gaze upon him. “Thank you,” he bowed, “but compared to Corbani’s five terms it is nothing to boast of.”
Ben nodded.
“I hear he had no opposition for the last three terms.”
Councillor Sender’s smile had a chilling undertone.
“Yes, he was only opposed during his two opening terms.” He paused significantly. “He won the first election of course.”
Ben knew what was expected of him and turned to Councillor Sendel with the obvious question.
“What about the second?” Councillor Sendel smiled again, pleased to see that Ben knew how the game was played.
“It was a great tragedy; Meron Va Dic Padis was the opposition that year but before the polls could take place he and his whole family died in a tragic accident.” Sendel’s eyes met Ben’s. “Of course, Corbani hasn’t been opposed since.”
Ben understood completely and had to suppress a shiver. He had guessed that Councillor Ladron was ruthless but having it confirmed made him feel sick.
“I dare say that Councillor Ladron fills his role so well that no one sees the need for change,” replied Ben evenly.
“Oh, Corbani is very good at keeping… things… in their proper place,” agreed Councillor Sendel. “A man would have to have friends in high places if he wished to oppose him.”
Ben met Sendel's gaze unflinchingly.
“Like Senators and their sons for instance?”
He smiled.
“You think in such small terms, Mr. Burton: any highly placed friends would do.” He placed his hand on his heart and inclined his head but before he left he smiled again.
“I hope you enjoyed Jayn’s coffee, Mr. Burton.”
Ben clutched his champagne flute so tightly that the stem broke in his hand and several shards pierced his palm.
It seemed that Councillor Ladron was not the only one of the councillors with an agenda. Councillor Sendel appeared to covet Corbani Va Dic Ladron’s position and was hoping that the Free Nation would help him attain his ends.
Ben was fully aware that he had just been threatened. If there was one thing a Burton didn’t react well to it was threats and he’d been in the receiving end of too many tonight.
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?”
The newcomer held out a napkin toward Ben.
“Your hand, it’s bleeding.” Ben made no move to take the napkin from her, so after a small pause she took his hand between her own and, removing the flute from his grasp, studied his palm carefully.
“I don’t think there is any glass in the wound,” she remarked, inspecting his hand closely before wrapping the napkin around his palm and tying the ends in a knot. “You should have it seen to, though.”
Ben watched her hands as they folded the bandage neatly.
“Thank you, Leda.”
For a moment she stilled and when Ben looked up it was to find her regarding him pensively.
“You have a good memory,” she remarked.
“Or maybe you’re just hard to forget,” replied Ben.
Leda raised an eyebrow, her expression unimpressed.
“Did you enjoy lunch with my sister?”
The question threw him, shaking him out of his calm and making his next words surprised.
“Astra is your sister?”
Ben frowned annoyed by the gauche betrayal of his feelings.
Leda nodded pushing the dark curls flirting with her jaw line behind her ear.
“Actually she’s my stepsister,” she responded in the same laconic voice. Ben studied her face trying to decide how she felt about Astra. Leda had large eyes, amber but with light green flecks, fringed with long lashes and a sprinkling of freckles over her nose that gave her an almost childlike sweetness. Her dress was black and Ben thought that she was probably four or five inches taller than Astra.
But something about her was reminiscent of Astra. Ben couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Almost everything about her was the opposite of her sister: her bold manner, her physical appearance and athletic build.
“Why wouldn’t Astra introduce us at the restaurant?”
Leda shrugged.
“She was probably terrified that I would say something highly inappropriate... so she told me to get lost.”
“And would you have? Said something inappropriate I mean?”
“Judging by our conversation so far, I would say her worry was entirely justified,” she returned.
Ben was silent for a moment.
“She didn’t want me to know you were her sister?”
Leda raised her glass to him in a silent toast.
“Seems like you’re not as stupid as you look.”
Ben was taken aback by the remark, but there had been no malice in her voice, just the plain stating of fact. He decided to let it pass.
“Why wouldn’t she want me to know you were her sister?”
“Stepsister,” corrected Leda. “Guess.”
Ben looked at the young woman standing next to him in astonishment: what was she up to?
“Because you don't get along?”
“My opinion of your intelligence just dropped twenty points.”
Ben chuckled.
“It’s not exactly a fair question.”
“That’s because you haven’t been listening, Mr. Burton.” Ben frowned, and quickly reviewed their conversation.
“Because she’s your stepsister?” he asked slowly. Leda nodded.
“Do you like mysteries, Mr. Burton?”
“Depends what I get for solving them,” returned Ben lightly.
“In this case it will be what you don’t get,” Leda’s tone was repressive.
The slight pause between them was interrupted by a new voice.
“Leda, your presence is required elsewhere.” Astra’s words were flat but dismissal was obvious in the shift of her eyes.
“Busted!” remarked Leda with a smile. “It was nice talking to you Mr. Burton, should you tire of my sister’s company feel free to call me.” She held out a slim black stick. “This is a contact strip: Astra will tell you how to use it.”
“Leda it is highly inappropriate for you to give Mr. Burton your number.”
Astra made to retrieve it from Ben’s slack grasp but he jerked his hand back out of her way.
“I’ve never given a pretty woman her number back before and I don’t intend to start now.” he laughed.
“Such behaviour is inappropriate Mr. Burton, I must ask you to return the contact strip now.”
“I don’t think I will!”
For a moment he thought Astra was going to fight him for possession of the contact strip right here in the middle of the ball room with the elite of the Tula nation looking on but in the end she just turned to her sister.
“Go back to your father, Leda.”
Leda nodded.
“Call me, Mr. Burton.”
She placed her hand over her heart and inclined her head before withdrawing.
“She seems like quite a handful,” Ben remarked.
“She shares your delight in rousing the hornet’s nest.”
“Really?” Ben smiled, turning to watch Leda thread her way slowly through the crowd of people. “I wonder how she feels about skeletons...”
Astra gifted him with a frosty glare and suggested that they both return to their table. Ben acquiesced with a chuckle, reflecting that the day might not have gone as he had planned, but the developments had nevertheless been interesting.
Just interesting enough to make him want more.

Giveaway!
1 eCopy of Broken City (Book #1) & 1 eCopy of Broken Truce (Book#2)
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Book #2 in The Chronicles of Discord
Severence The Head Families are at war, those who oppose Elder Headman Amajit view Astra's acceptance into the house of Singh as an abomination, a pollution of the pure Una bloodlines.
Duty and honour ought to be clear, still Kai and Astra must learn to overcome their past and rely on each other, or face death.
Senator Burton remains trapped in the Tula strongholds with no word of his son. Should he compromise, or seize the chance to stop Ladron?
Ben seems safe under Amajit's protection, but time is running out and a man once accustomed to influence, finds himself a pawn in a play for power.
The separation has begun...

Goodreads

Review of Loverboy by Trista Jaszczak

Title – Loverboy
Author – Trista Jaszczak
Genre – Romance/Thriller
Re-Release Date – October 31, 2013
Publisher – Planettopia Publishing
Cover Artist – Beetiful Designs

Blurb When Charlotte Murphy escapes from the ruthless serial rapist and killer, Loverboy, she finds herself completely lost and scared to death. Lost, frightened, recovering, and in the sights of a brutal killer. In a most odd but clever tactic from the police, they assign Charlie 24/7 live-in protection; a move that is supposed to comfort her and make healing easier. Somehow, despite the odds, Charlie finds a refuge in officer Nick Andrews and in his arms she finds the strength to heal and the courage to move on with life. Nick finds everything that he wasn't looking for in Charlie’s eyes and a fight against a killer that becomes personal.

Links
Amazon | Goodreads | B&N

Review Crazy Awesomeness! This book has two of my favorite things. An intense plot, with a great love story. The twists in this story are a big surprise, didn't expect that at all! I don't want to spoil anything though, so I won't elaborate. While I didn't have to pay for this book, it is totally worth it's current $0.99 price!


Bio Trista Jaszczak (jazz-ick) is the author of the Believe series, retold, and upcoming relaunches, Loverboy, What Lies Inside and the Darkness Falls series. She is an Air Force spouse and mother to two mischievous and rambunctious little girls. She is originally from Hamilton, Ohio but calls home where ever the Air Force sends her. She currently resides in Anchorage, Alaska where she finds endless inspiration in the pure Alaskan wilderness. When she isn’t writing, she spends her time with her family in the vast Alaskan outdoors, plucking away at her old guitar or working on self-improvement in the gym. She loves the outdoors, the moon, old movies and music.

Stalker Links
Amazon | Website/Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Tumblr | Goodreads

Soundtrack
1. Demons by Imagine Dragons
2. It’s Not My Time by 3 Doors Down
3. I Wanna Be There by Blessed Union Of Souls
4. Wake Up by Coheed & Cambria
5. Under Pressure by David Bowie & Queen
6. Iris by Goo Goo Dolls
7. Crawling by Linkin Park
8. Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now by Jefferson Starship
9. Daughters by John Mayer
10. Be Good To Yourself by Journey
11. Use Somebody by Kings of Leon
12. Torn by Natalie Imbruglia
13. You Get What You Give by New Radicals

Giveaway
One 1st Place Winner: Paperback Loverboy Handmade Book Thong (Intl GC equivalent)
Two 2nd Place Winner: eCopy Loverboy with handmade Loverboy Bookmark (International OK)
Three 3rd Place Winners: eCopy Loverboy (International OK)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt My name is Charlotte Murphy. Charlotte? Charlotte… No… No, they call me Charlie. I call me Charlie. Everyone calls me Charlie; they have for years. My head hurts. Bad. I’m twenty-one? I’m from Indiana. Wait. Where in Indiana? Why can’t I remember? My parents have lived there all my life. Indiana? Morgantown, Indiana. But, I moved? I don’t live there anymore. Ugh. Why can’t I move my head? No. I don’t live there anymore. I live in New York. For…for…? School. For school. I live there for school. And, I’m a dancer. I’m an instructor for a studio part time. I work with the younger girls. I can’t move my arms, either. Where am I? Where was I? It’s black, everything is black. I was leaving school. No. Work? No, I don’t work until later this week. Why can’t I remember? What was I doing? I was leaving…something. Somewhere. I’m sore. Everywhere hurts. The party. I was leaving a party. That’s it. I left the party, because people were acting crazy. I walked. I walked home. I remember. I cut through Central Park. But then someone grabbed me. Someone grabbed me hard. They covered my mouth. I remember!
My eyes pop open, and suddenly I’m greeted by annoying, harsh white lights and beeping noises. I groan softly. My God, I was right. I was grabbed. Someone kidnapped me. They don’t still have me do they? They can’t. No. I ran. I got away. I move my eyes around slowly and realize the only thing that can have beeping noises and such bright lights is the hospital. I’m in the hospital. I don’t remember getting here. I couldn’t have gotten here by myself. Could I? I moan again, this time making an attempt to move my hand. At least, I think I’m trying to move my hand. It hurts, too. My head, my neck, my arms, my legs, everywhere. Stabbing pains, shooting pains; pains that I’ve never felt before in my life course through every last inch of my body. Just how hurt am I? I can feel my heart beginning to pound furiously deep in my chest. I hear a clicking noise and feet on the floor as the sounds come closer.
“Charlotte?” I hear a soft female voice.
I open my mouth and realize how dry it is. I swallow hard and make another attempt to speak.
“It’s okay, Sweetie,” she interrupts me. “You don’t have to talk. Do you know where you are?”
I give myself a moment and fight through the pain enough to nod my head.
“You understand that you’re in the hospital?” She asks.
I lick my dry lips to find an array of what feels like cuts around them, and nod slowly once more.
“You are one lucky girl,” she says, as I feel her working with the tubes that I now see are all attached to me. “We didn’t expect you to wake up this soon.”
“Pain,” I finally choke out.
“Don’t worry; we’ll get you something more for the pain.” She reassures me. “Just try to relax for me. Don’t worry now; the police are here.”
The police?
“Police?” I stammer.
“Why, dear, after what you’ve just been through they wouldn’t dare leave you without protection,” she says softly, as I feel her working with another tube that I can now tell is running directly into my arm.
“Protection?” I ask. “I was,” I pause to swallow. “I was kidnapped.” My thoughts become jumbled a moment as I try to comprehend everything that’s happened to me. Everything in my mind seems to be surrounded by a thick haze, and I can’t pull even one random thought from the mess.
She looks down at me, making the most pitiful face I have ever seen on a person. “Oh, Sweetheart, I better let the police talk to you about that.”
Just how bad am I?
“Can I,” I stop. “Can I sit up?” I ask
“Do you feel up to it?” She asks. “I don’t want to exhaust you; you just woke up.”
“How long have I been out?” I ask, now feeling more strength in my voice.
She takes a moment to glance at the gold watch on her wrist. “Just about twelve hours now, dear.”
Twelve hours?!
“I think sitting up will help my back,” I reply, softly.
She cocks her head to the side, giving me the pitiful look again. This time I can’t be too sure, but I think I can see tears in her eyes. She finally nods and begins pushing buttons on the side of the bed that control the angle and lift. I can feel my body’s muscles beginning to work for the first time, in what feels like, years. Aches, pops, and uncomfortable groans; I can feel it all. I finally bring my strongest hand up to my neck, rubbing a tender spot that is completely covered with what I can only assume is a large bandage.
“Would you like a pillow behind your back?” She asks, the pitiful look falling over her face again.
I can’t imagine just how bad I look, but judging by the look on her face, not pretty. I nod slowly as she helps me lean forward, just enough for her to slide the pillow behind me.
“Can I get you anything else?” She asks, giving my shoulder a tender pat.
I shake my head.
“Well, the doctor will be in shortly,” she replies. “But, if you need me, just push this button.” She pulls a remote from behind the bed, pointing at the bright red button. She smiles. “The other two buttons control your TV.”
“Thank you,” I manage, as I weakly take the remote from her hand.
As the nurse turns to make her exit, I’m surprised to see a doctor already on his way in. He’s tall with pale skin, and his eyes give the impression that he hasn’t slept in days. His hair too; it’s mousy brown and cut short, but looks as though he’s just crawled out of bed. He smiles.
“Glad to see you awake,” he says. “How do you feel?”
“Like I was just run over by a Mack truck,” I say, working to adjust myself in the bed.
“Well, given what you’ve just been through, I would say you should feel even worse,” he says. “Mind if I have a look at you?”
I shake my head. Do I honestly have a choice? He steps closer, and suddenly I feel a pang of panic that I can’t explain. My heart begins to race and I can feel sweat beginning to build up on the palm of my hands. I swallow and give him a strange look. I open my mouth to apologize, but he politely stops me.
“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” he says.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t,” I pause to swallow and look away for a moment, “I don’t know what happened.”
“You’ve been through a lot, Charlotte. You’re a very lucky young woman.”
“I guess I don’t remember what exactly I’ve been through,” I say, looking down at the tiled hospital floor.
“One step at a time,” he says. “Best just to take it easy for now. Would you like for me to call Doctor Kenton? She’s really great to work with. I think you would really like her.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I trust you.”
Five whole minutes into his routine examination, and I regret not letting him phone Doctor Kenton. My palms are sweaty, my mouth is dry, and, though I have been able to control my racing heart, I’m sure he’s able to pick up on how uneasy I am with his hands anywhere near me. After listening to my heart, he backs away slowly and smiles.
“Everything looks perfect,” he says. “You sure you feel alright?”
I nod. “As well as I can for the aches and pains.”
“I can certainly make sure you have something for the pain,” he says, “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Well, I do have a question,” I say, “How long will I be in here?”
“It’s hard to say,” he says, “It could be a few more days; it could be a week. The best thing for you is to stay here until you’ve healed. You’ve endured a lot, and I wouldn’t want to release you just yet.”
I nod. I should have figured. “Is there any way that I could get some clothes that are a little more,” I pause. “Covering?”
He nods. “I can’t see how some good warm sweats would hurt.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“And, one last thing,” he says. “There’s a gentleman here; a police officer. He’s to stand guard at your door.”
Police? Stand guard at my door? What the hell happened to me?
“Okay.”
“I’m sure he’ll be in shortly for his questions.”
I nod.
“You let us know if you need anything, Charlotte.” He smiles.
I nod again in silence as he makes his way out the door. It’s then that I can hear him talking to the cop, who truly is standing just outside my door. I slowly lean my head back and sigh. I can’t remember a thing. What’s worse is, now I don’t know that I want to.
The light knock at the door makes me jump unexpectedly. I let out a deep breath as the nurse from before steps in, smiling.
“I brought you something warmer to slip on,” she says, “The police department was kind enough to lend us some sweats for you,” she explains as she sets them on the bed. “Would you like some help getting dressed?”
I look down at my right hand that’s badly bruised, there’s an IV ran in the top. Glancing to the left, I see it’s in the same horrible shape, minus the IV. I give a slight nod, and she begins helping pull the blankets back. It’s the first time I’ve seen anything other than my hands, and I see that both my legs are cut up badly and bruised. My mouth drops as I see some of the cuts are extremely deep and have been stitched up. My eyes follow up my legs to my bruised thighs, and I see the deep purple bruising has gone in between them. I look up at the nurse, with, more than likely, the same pitiful look she gave me.
“I’m sorry,” she says, softly. “We don’t have to do this now.”
I shake my head and swallow. “I want to be covered.”
She nods as she helps my legs off the side of the bed.
“I was raped.” I ask, “Wasn’t I?”
She quietly reaches for the navy blue sweat pants and gingerly guides my legs into them. Finally, she looks up and gives me a slow, sad nod.
I lick my lips and look down as I ease myself down off the bed long enough to pull the sweat pants up around my sore waist that is just as tender to touch as my legs.
“Would you like the sweatshirt on too?” She asks, holding up the navy blue sweatshirt that has the word POLICE in bold yellow print on the front.
I nod. “I just want to be covered.”
“I understand,” she says as she begins working gingerly around the IV, and an array of deep cuts and bruises that I now see are all over my upper body as well. I feel a wave of nausea wash over me as I fight to hold everything from vomit to tears inside.
“There,” she says, finally tugging the warm shirt down around me. “Feel better?”
I nod. “Thank you for your help.”
“It’s no trouble,” she replies. “Would you like some socks, too? These floors get so cold at night.”
I immediately nod, wanting each and every inch of my body to be covered by something, anything at all.
She pulls a pair of thick gray socks from a storage cabinet, and is kind enough to help them on my feet. She smiles and pulls the blankets around me once more. “You get some rest now. The more you rest, the quicker you’ll heal.” She smiles, as she heads for the door.
I force a smile. “Thank you. I will.”
Normally, I wouldn’t mind being left alone at all; but, now that I have a lot swimming through my mind, I don’t want to be left alone to remember anything. I remember I had walked to my friend Rachael’s party. I knew most of the people there, except for a small handful of her latest fling’s friends. They were the reason I left. Turns out they had a taste for a lot of booze and drugs too. And, by drugs, I don’t mean marijuana. I mean cocaine and other substances I don’t even want to think about putting anywhere near my body. I told Rachael it was bad news, and to get them out. But, she didn’t believe me, of course. Isn’t that how it always worked? It was her party and her place, so I did what I thought was best. I grabbed my coat and took off. I walked. I know I walked; I usually walk everywhere. But, I cut through Central Park. Not because it’s really a short cut, but just because it’s one of my favorite places. That was my mistake, cutting through the park. That’s where he got me. How stupid can I be? Who walks through a deserted park, late at night, alone? Apparently, stupid Charlie Murphy does.
I make a feeble attempt to roll to my side, but I’m greeted by a new stabbing pain on my hip. One so bad I let out a loud cry and bring myself nearly to tears. I take a few deep breaths, and suddenly the large, wooden hospital door is flung open with such a great force that it makes a loud banging noise against the wall. There, standing in the doorway, is the police officer. There’s no mistaking him in his perfect black uniform. He’s young, a lot younger than I would ever expect, and tall with golden brown hair that has a messy style. My yelp has clearly startled him. His body finally relaxes, and he straightens himself out.
“I’m sorry,” He says, “I didn’t mean to bother you, I just…” He stops.
I shake my head. “It’s okay.”
“I’ll just be outside if you need me,” he says, as he grabs for the door handle to shut it behind him.
I stare blankly at the door. He’s a ‘He’. How could the police department even think of sending a man after what I’d been through? Even though, I admit I wasn’t fully aware of just what I had been through yet. Stupid police department. Stupid me. Stupid men. Stupid everything. I sigh deeply. The pain in my side is slowly beginning to fade into a light throbbing. I have a sudden urge to lift my sweatshirt in order to see what has caused the immense pain, but after seeing my legs, I fight the urge to look just yet. After my legs, I’m terrified to see the rest of me, even though I know I will have to eventually. It is my body, after all.
Despite the aches and pains that are pulsing and throbbing, I pull the blanket up around my shoulders a bit tighter and close my eyes. I suddenly feel exhausted again. Apparently I’d just been through hell, and I looked like it too, so I didn’t see anything wrong with letting myself fall into a nice, deep sleep.

Review of Going Nowhere Fast

Title:  Going Nowhere Fast
Author:  K. D. Bloodworth
Genre:  Adult Contemporary/ Romance
Publication Date:  12/02/2013
Length (Pages/# Words):  382 pages
Publisher:  Planettopia Publishing, LLC
Cover Artist:  Wendy Chartier

Blurb Leave your mundane cares behind, sit in your favorite chair and be prepared to travel the road of love, loss and no return. Travel down roads most women would never dare. Delve into the lost and found of life’s trials and tribulations by “Going Nowhere Fast.”

Links
Amazon | Goodreads

Review A little odd, but I really liked it.  I say odd, because it bounces back and forth throughout time without really stating what year it might have been.  Of course there's clues in the context of the surroundings, but at one point I was really confused about when it was, lol.  I figured it out eventually though.  I'm about twenty pages shy of finishing but I needed to get this posted.  I can't wait to get back to it and finish the story.  The things Dawn goes through in her life...this book will make the reader angry and offended on her behalf.  It also has some pretty hot sex scenes.  This book is said to be loosely based on the author's real life.  Until I finish the last couple of chapters, I can only hope that the man she's with at this point of the book is her now husband, and they managed to work things out.  I'm glad to see in her bio she's with someone who can make her happy after all of the failed, heartbreaking relationships she's had.  Check out the excerpt below for a sad example of the end of one of them. 

Bio Growing up in Southeast Michigan, K. D. found herself a wanderer and adventurer, sometimes going down the wrong road, but always finding her way back home. She has found a way to bring her colorful stories to life. K.D now resides in Montana with her husband, sharing their home with Fuzzy, a Goldendoodle and Muddy Brown Dog, a Labradoodle

Links
Facebook | Twitter | Google+ | Wordpress

Giveaway
$5 Amazon Giftcard
2 eCopies of Going Nowhere Fast

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link

Excerpt I turned away, bag in one hand, my purse in the other. Two hundred dollars in my pocket and no idea where I was going next. I just knew I had to get away. Phoenix was no option. I never looked back, never heard the truck start, never heard his voice again.
I walked out of the parking lot, down the street and down the entrance ramp to the interstate. It only took a few minutes with my thumb out for a big rig to stop. I ran up to the truck, opened the passenger door, swinging up into the cab.
“Where you headed little lady?” Drawled the driver.
“The question is where are you going?”
“I’m headed to Salt Lake.”
“Well, if you don’t mind some company I sure could use a ride.”
“If I had minded the company I wouldn’t have stopped.” He drawled again only this time with a wide toothy smile.
I threw my bag up in the sleeper, stowing my purse at my feet. I stuck my hand in my jacket pocket and felt the money. My eyes started to fill with tears.
“You OK there?”
“Yep, I’m OK. Just something in my eye.”

“Something like a broken heart?”
“You might say that.”

Review of Broken City and Broken Truce

 
Title:  Broken City
Series:  Broken City
Author:  D.D. Chant
Genre:  Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopia/Romance
Publication Date:  2011
Length (Pages/# Words):  97,187
Publisher:  Self Published
Cover Artist:  Laura Tunstall

Blurb Deeta Richards has never seen the outside world. Before she was born a banking crisis brought civilization to an end and now no one leaves the safety of the compounds unless they need to, but Deeta still dreams of seeing more than the building she was born in.
Tom is in the guard, this group are the only people that the tribal elders allow to leave the compound and Tom knows only too well that Deeta could never survive the harshness that exists outside. Then tragedy strikes and Deeta and her Sister Jan find themselves captured by a hostile tribe. Why does Tom know so much about these people? And why do they know so much about him? As this mystery draws to a climax, they discover that their friend Tom is not quite what he seems.....

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Review Broken City is the first Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian book that I've read, and I just loved it! The world that D. D. created was so original. I can actually picture the compounds, even the empty buildings in The City. Though I don't believe it is ever specified WHICH city it is. I kinda like that though, it lets the reader can imagine it as a city local to them, wherever in the world they may be. At least until they have to look up a word and they realize that the author is from England. There were a few times that I had to look words up, because they were English terms that I had never even heard before. Does definitely explain why they drink so much tea in this book. As for Broken Truce, I'm loving it so far, I almost cried when something happened, so this one may actually be a 5 star by the time I've finished it. Of course, I can't specify what it is that happened, that would be a total spoiler, but I will definitely be picking it back up as soon as I hit publish! I only put it down last night, cuz I HAD to get some sleep. I'm about half way done now, and I will probably post a full review in a few days when I have a minute between reads, I can't wait to see how this one event is resolved! By the way...I LOVE some of the song choices in the playlist and soundtrack below! Also below is an excerpt with one of my favorite parts of the first book, and an excerpt of a great part that I'm reading for the first time!

Title:  Broken Truce
Series:  Broken City
Author:  D.D. Chant
Genre:  Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopia/Romance
Publication Date:  2014
Length (Pages/# Words):  94,403
Publisher:  Self Published
Cover Artist:  Kate Lacey

Blurb Life isn’t turning out the way Deeta thought it would. With the Lewises defeated and peace between the tribes, she’d believed that the dark times were in the past.
However, troubles between the tribe continue and the Andak council has selected Tom as ambassador and chief spokesmen to the other tribes.
Deeta knows that there is still much resentment against the Andak, that Tom is in danger every time he leaves the safety of Andak city.
Struggling with her own her own complicated feelings against the tribe that she is now a part of, Deeta tries to ignore the changing attitudes growing within her.
Then Tom is betrayed and with the whole City thrown in to great danger, Deeta finds that reality can’t be ignored forever…

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Bio Hi everyone! My name is Dee Dee, I’m twenty six and I live in a beautiful part of Devon, England with my family. I have a younger sister, Amy who is a brilliant guitar player, some chickens, ducks, geese, pheasants, a cat (that adopted us when we moved in!!!) and some Koi.
Broken City is actually my second novel. My first, as my Aunt so delicately put it, was crazy. In my defence I was only sixteen when I wrote it. On the plus side I learnt a lot (or so I hope) and two years later ‘Broken City’ was finished. Due to the support I have received from readers I have just finished the next book in the Broken City series, Broken Truce!
I have another book, ‘The Promise’, which is set in Saxon England is the beginning of a series. I’ve just begun to edit the next book and I’m really looking forward to releasing it.
My third series is called The Chronicles of Discord. The first book, 'Fracture', is set in the distant future and tells the story of Astra, a young woman with a very big secret.
I have just finished the second book in the series and it’s currently awaiting editing.
I really hope you enjoy reading my books as much as I enjoy writing them.
I love reading and have a kindle: I read almost anything with adventure and romance in it! I also like to cook and wear impractical high heels!!! And as you might have noticed I have a horrible addiction to exclamation marks!!!

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Giveaway
1 eCopy of Broken City via Smashwords
1 eCopy of Broken Truce via Smashwords
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Playlist
D. D. Chant shares her personal playlist that you listen to while writing All of Adele's songs!!!
Christina Perri - Jar of Hearts
Lana Del Rey - Video Games
U2 - I will Follow
Black Eyed Peas - Lets Get it Started
Kaiser Chiefs – Ruby
No Min Woo - Trap
Nirvana - Smells Like Teen Spirit
Muse - Supermassive Black Hole
My Chemical Romance - I don't love you
Pendulum - Watercolour
Example - Changed The Way You Kiss Me
Pitbull ft. T-Pain - Hey Baby
Tinie Tempah & Eric Turner - Written In The Stars
Owl City - Fireflies

Soundtrack
The Soundtrack For These Books

Broken City
1. Gentian – Broken City
2. Skillet – Awake and Alive
3. Evanescence – Bring me to life
4. The All American Rejects – Can’t take it
5. Fireflight – Forever
6. Gentian – Without a Choice
7. Seven Cities – It’s You I’m Calling
8. Apocalyptica & Brent Smith – Not Strong Enough
9. A-ha - The Sun Always Shines On T.V.

Broken Truce
1. Seven Cities – This Time Won’t Come Again
2. Seven Cites – Crawl
3. David Guetta ft. Sia – Titainium
4. Keane – Somewhere Only We Know
5. Nickleback – Saving Me
6. Lee Mead – Paint it Black
7. Gentian – Finished
8. Jem – 24

Excerpts
Broken City (Broken City, #1)
I’m not sure how it happens, but the next thing I’m aware of is the faintly groggy feeling you get when you’ve been woken from sleep quickly. A glance at the clock tells me that forty minutes have gone by, yet the room is still silent, with no noise to rouse me from what had obviously been a deep sleep. I stand up and meet my own eyes in the mirror above the fire place. I’m staring at myself in a dazed kind of way, when I realise that mine is not the only figure reflected in its polished surface.
I suppose it must have been the second time he walked through this room and the first time he didn’t notice me curled up in the depths of the large arm chair. He seems quite as shocked as I am to find he’s not alone.
A full second elapses before I utter a strangled scream and leg it through the door and into the passage way. The first thing I come across is another camouflaged figure and my panic ratchets up a notch. I think of the children, who in about fifteen minute’s time, will joyfully be free of the shackles of their lessons.
The two soldiers are behind me, so only way to go is up the stairs. The knowledge that I am leading the intruders towards the children, rings in my head. With the sound of pursuit hideously loud in the stairwell, coherent thought is proving difficult. I’m half way up the forth flight when I hear Dec’s jubilant voice proclaiming himself the winner of some unseen race.
“Dec, run!” My voice cracks and my throat, already sore, tightens.
Dec’s voice exclaiming above my head is cut short as he sees my pursuers. I hear the door onto the stairwell open and close above me and a moment later something hit the floor behind me with a dull thud. A cheer reverberates around the walls.
Dec, bless him, hadn’t run away when I told him to, instead he’d brought a large book from the school room above and hurled it at one of my attackers. As that soldier was at this very moment out cold on the steps, I guess his aim must have been pretty accurate.
The last of the men is felled by some sort of encyclopaedia, this time lobbed by Roydon. I reach the landing they are standing on, completely out of breath. Roydon and Dec seize a hand each and drag me after Ricky who is holding Tarri in his arms and has Carris’s hand tucked in his.
From the direction in which they are going, I think their destination is Ralph’s house. But we keep running into the strangers that have breached the building and our efforts bring us almost full circle. We come to a standstill in one of the rooms with a connecting door and pause breathlessly.
“Who are they?” whispers Roydon.
“I don’t know, but they have some pretty neat kit,” answers Ricky. He relinquishes Tarri into Carris’s arms and places an ear to the door. “Ssh — someone’s coming!”
Ricky steps back a little from the door and we all wait expectantly. Sure enough it begins to open, Ricky waits until it is almost half way before he kicks it shut with all his might. We turn and run though the connecting door in to the room on the other side and out on to the corridor beyond. We are tantalisingly close to Ralph’s house.
How it happens I hardly know, but as Dec passes the open door of the school room, he is dragged kicking and screaming through the door by unseen hands. I scream and pull as hard as I can on the handle, but it won’t move. I realise they must have locked it behind them. Ralph’s door is just a little further on and I grab Ricky’s arm.
“Ricky, take the children to Ralph and stay there.”
“But…”
I don’t know what he had been going to say, but he stops abruptly and nods.
As I turn and run down the hallway I hear them banging on the Clark's door.
There is no sign of Dec when I enter the school room, but from the knocked over chairs it is obvious that there has been some struggling. I run through the next two rooms desperately and hear, in the distance, Dec’s voice raised in protest. I burst into the corridor to find him struggling madly with one of the camouflaged soldiers. Picking up a stool from the room I have just come through, I use it to hit the man around the head. He sinks to the floor moaning and I taking Dec’s hand. We run down the passage, around the corner and up the steps, slap bang into more of the soldiers.
Instinctively I push Dec behind me, below their visors I see derision in the soldier’s faces and when they step forwards, they pull us apart easily. Trying to tear away from the vice like grip on my arm, I pull my knee up into the soldier’s stomach. His smirk changes quickly to a snarl of pain and my struggles become more desperate. I manage to free an arm long enough to punch him in the face. I must admit to a feeling of gratification as blood begins to trickle from his nose.
There is blinding pain as his fist connects with my face, slapping it sharply sideways and causing me to lurch backwards. I fall to the floor and it’s only Dec screaming my name that brings me groggily to my feet. I am rewarded by a merciless grip on my arm, forcing it behind me and well up my back as the soldier drives me heavily into the wall. I slip to the floor weakly, again hearing Dec’s voice calling to me. The sound grows gradually fainter, until my eyes close and I hear nothing.

Broken Truce (Broken City, #2) The keys jangle in the lock and the soldier pulls the door open, his grin displaying gaps where his two front teeth should have been.
“Well come on, stop hiding in the shadows, no need to be scared of me.”
Tom doesn’t answer him but walks past him and in to the room beyond. Presented with Tom’s back the soldier seems to lose what little sense he has, he launches himself at Tom. Tom twists away from him, catching his collar as he passes and ramming him in to the opposite wall.
A dull crack fills the room as the soldier’s head connects with stone work, he collapses, sinking to his knees and groaning. With a sharp expletive, the second soldier comes at Tom slowly, very cautiously.
They circle each other measuringly, looking for weaknesses, for any opening. This soldier is younger than the first, not so beefy, but still strong. He holds back, studying Tom even as Tom studies him.
He’s better trained, Tom realises, not the mindless thug that usually passed for a Lewis soldier. This man had been taught caution, to think three moves ahead of his opponent. This man was dangerous, but he used his brain, so maybe there was a chance that he could be reasoned with.
“We don’t have to do this.” Tom holds his hands up, palms outward. “I’ll go back into my cell and we can forget this happened.”
The soldier smiles menacingly.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you; to get your own way here, just like you do in the City.”
His left hand falls to his waist and he pulls free a six inch long blade. One edge is curved down into a point, the other carved into jagged notches that gleam in the artificial light. Tom’s face loses all expression, his hands curl into fists and he raises them slightly.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“What’s wrong?” spits the soldier tauntingly. “Are you scared?”
Tom’s eyes never waver from the face, filled with fury, before him.
“You fight with fists the worst you’re going to get is some bruises, maybe a few broken bones, but you had to go and pull and knife. One of us is going to end this bleeding.” Tom’s voice drops, his tone blank. “It won’t be me.”
The soldier laughs, an angry, mocking sound.
“Arrogant son of a…”
Before the soldier can say another word, Tom’s fist crashes into his mouth silencing him abruptly. He staggers back, eyes dilated in shock.
“If you want to make it out of this fight alive, I suggest you leave my mother out of this.”
“You crazy bas…”
Tom’s eyes snap coldly.
“I mean it; you’ll leave my mother out of this if you want to continue breathing.”
With a quick thrust, the soldier slashes his knife through the air. Tom jerks back and pivots, catching hold of his knife arm. They sway together dangerously, crashing into chairs and the table.
It isn’t a pretty fight, there’s no time to do anything but react, and more than once Tom finds himself deflecting the blade at the last possible second. They struggle together a little longer, beginning to pant as their exertion slows them down a little.
Tom reflects grimly that if he wasn’t being so careful about hurting the guy, he would have finished him already. He couldn’t cause the brute too much damage, it would only mean more trouble in the long run, more of these pointless, posturing fights.
Tom knew if he gave in to his desire to have it over and done with quickly, it would become a point of honour, and the rest of the soldiers would consider it their duty to grind the prisoner into the ground. That was the last think he needed, he had enough to worry about without taking gladiatorial events in to account.
Ned’s voice interrupted his thoughts, calling out a frantic warning and Tom turned just in time to see the first solder, recovered from his close inspection of the wall, baring down on him with a chair levelled at his head.
Tom has no time to avoid the blow, but raises his arm slightly to deflect it from his head to his right shoulder. The force sends him reeling backward, clutching at his arm. The first soldier stands, the chair now a splintered wreck in his hands, and glares at Ned.
“You warned him.” His voice is filled with shock.
Ned’s eyes widened in fear, and his mouth opens and closes a few times without any sound coming out.
“What’s wrong with you, shrimp?” The furious soldier advances on the boy slowly. “Forgotten whose side you’re on, have you?”
Ned backed away nervously, his hands rising in a pleading gesture.
“C-captain Max said…”
“Captain Max said,” mimics the soldier. “Take a look around you, shrimp: Captain Max isn’t here.”
He makes a lunge for the boy, catching him by the collar, but Ned manages to twist away. He skids across the floor to stand beside Tom, his retreat only making the two soldiers angrier. With a deft flick of his wrist, the second soldier throws his knife and Ned closes his eyes, bracing himself for the pain of impact.
The moments pass and the boy prises one eye open.
Tom’s arm is stretched out in front of him, on a level with Ned’s throat. The knife is buried deep in his forearm, blood beginning to ooze from wound to drip on the floor. The room is silent, Ned’s horrified gaze transfers from the gruesome sight of the blade protruding from Tom’s arm, to Tom’s white face and icy expression. He coldly appraises the men before him, and the two soldiers expressions fill with horror and fear.

Review of Not Another Soldier by Samantha Holt

  Title:  Not Another Solider
Author:  Samantha Holt
Genre:  Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Release Date:  January 17, 2014

Blurb I’ve just buried my husband. I was going to divorce him and now he’s dead.
After five years as a military wife, Sienna is moving on. She’s keen to leave behind the misery of her marriage to Rob but for some reason the past won’t let her go. It doesn’t help that her closest friend, Nick, is also a soldier.
Unfortunately Sienna is struggling to deny her attraction to the sexy marine, even knowing there can be no future in it. When the injured soldier admits he wants her just as badly, and has always wanted her, the fight to control her feelings becomes harder.
And now she’s learning things about her late husband that surprise even her. When the secrets of Rob’s life come to light, Sienna finds herself involved with some very nasty people and Nick is determined to protect her, no matter what.
As the danger grows to both her heart and her life, Sienna needs to decide if it was the army that was the problem or her late husband. Is Nick worth the heartache of being a military spouse again? And will he be able to protect her from the ring of drug dealers slowly closing in?

Amazon | Goodreads

Review I loved this book.  This story was intense and super HOT.  The passion and chemistry between Nick and Sienna is great.  Sienna was a little annoying at times, with her stubbornness, but she finally comes around.  There are a couple inconsistencies that other reviewers have pointed out, but those are easily fixable and they don't overpower the story.

Bio Samantha lives in a small village in England with her gorgeous twin girls and husband who is a trained bodyguard and ex-soldier (Yes, seriously!). She traditionally writes historical romances involving chivalrous knights and hot highlanders, but occasionally dabbles in contemporary romance. When she reluctantly leaves her computer, she enjoys exploring old ruins and indulging an early midlife crisis. Adrenaline filled suggestions for the bucket list are always welcome!

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Giveaway!
1 Paperback copy of Not Another Soldier
3 x $2.99 ebook of readers choice

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Excerpt Drawing in a breath, I open the door. Hopefully Nick’s all settled and I won’t even have to—
He’s sitting on my bed.
Damn the man. He studies me, slow and languorously, and I flex my fingers, longing to splay my hands across myself. My simple PJs now feel sexy and I’m definitely showing off too much skin.
“Can I—” I cough. “Is everything okay?”
Nick nods slowly, his eyes saying everything is more than okay. My skin heats and I hope he can’t see the redness that’s no doubt in my cheeks and on my chest.
“Yeah,” he says finally, gaze lingering on my bare legs. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine.”
Though I don’t sound fine. Having your heart going the same rate as a freight train or your blood boiling beneath your skin probably isn’t fine. But that wasn’t what he meant.
He doesn’t look convinced.
“It’s been a crazy day and I am a little shaken but I’m okay, I swear. I just need a little rest and I need to get this place back to normal and then I’ll be great.”
Nick takes a moment to study me once more and stands. “All right. Just checkin’.”
“Oh.” I go to my closet. “Here’s some blankets.” I draw out two old ones that I usually use if the temperature drops and pass them over.
“Thanks.” He takes them from me.
“Do you need something to sleep in?” I bend down and rummage through the bottom drawer. “I might have some old T-shirts.” I find one and come up to standing.
His eyes are wary and he looks tense, slightly like he’s going to explode at any moment.
Baffled, I thrust out the T-shirt. “It’s one of Rob’s. I don’t know why I still have them really. Or would it be weird wearing his stuff?” He doesn’t respond so I hesitate before turning around and chucking the T-shirt back in the drawer. That was a stupid idea. “Sorry, guess it would be.”
With a wry laugh, he nods. “Yeah, I don’t want to be wearing his stuff, but I got to tell you, babe, I’m more worried about your night clothes.”
“What?”
“If you’re sleeping like that,” he motions with one hand down me, “then it’s going to make me sleeping there,” now he points to the couch, “a real trial. ‘Cause when you bend over in those shorts, all I want to do is take you to bed and peel them from you.”

Book Blast for Blue Rose by Sarah Daltry

Title:  Blue Rose, a Flowering novel
Author:  Sarah Daltry
Release Date:  2/1/2014
Publisher:  SDE Press
Cover Design:  Shoutlines Design

Blurb “Four. My life has been shaped by four people. Four men, to be more specific. My father, my stepfather, my best friend, and my boyfriend. The first two shaped it in horrible ways, but what I am, who I am, is all because of four men.”

Alana Reardon has secrets. Some of them are too dark to tell, but everyone already thinks they know anyhow. At 20, she takes too many pills, hides the parts of her that she hates, and willingly becomes the person that they think she is. A slut. A whore. Trash.

There have only been two guys who ever saw Alana as more:  Jack, the guy she can’t get over, and Dave, the one who never got over her.

With the help of therapy, facing her past, and the inevitable ways that life changes without your permission, can Alana learn to stop blaming herself? Can she allow love into her life? Is she ready to move on?

Warning: This book deals with topics of abuse and may trigger reactions in people who have experienced those things in their own lives.

Links
Amazon | Goodreads

Excerpt Later that day, at lunch, I had just found a seat by the window when he sat across from me. I was used to sitting alone. He didn’t say anything, and he had nothing to eat. He looked up at me, though, after a few minutes, and his eyes did it again. I hated my body, hated the way I looked, hated that somehow I owed my body and my looks to everyone else. But when Jack looked at me, I wanted to let someone touch me. I wanted him to hold me. He felt like safety.
It didn’t even make sense. He was just a broken kid, like me. He always wore the same threadbare hoodie. Most days, it covered his head. He was cute, but awkward. His hair was too long and usually greasy. His Chucks were a little too big, so they looked a little like clown shoes. Yet those gorgeous eyes were all I cared about. I hadn’t considered guys at all. I didn’t find them attractive, and I certainly couldn’t see the appeal of sex or of intimacy. With Jack, though, the thought of him near me didn’t make me nauseous.
“Do you want my orange?” I asked him.
“Are you sure?”
It wasn’t a groundbreaking question. But it was how I knew that what I naturally felt for Jack was right. Because no one had ever asked me that. No one had asked if I minded, if I was sure, if something was okay. They just took things.
“Yeah.”
He took it and I handed him my knife. It was flimsy plastic and wouldn’t even pierce the rind, so I took the orange back and peeled it with my fingernails. Jack just watched me and, when I handed him the orange, now peeled, he smiled. His upper lip curled more than it should have and he looked silly, smiling at an orange. But he drew the same smile from me.
“Thank you,” he said, and he pulled two slices free from the whole and handed them back to me. I didn’t eat them right away. I just watched him eat his part. He was messy and he ended up covering himself in the juices. He unzipped his hoodie after the orange squirted down the front. Underneath, he was wearing a washed out blue T-shirt with a train on it. He looked ten.
“Nice shirt,” I teased.
He looked down. “I live with my grandmother. She has no concept of clothes.”
“It’s cute.”
He smiled again and it was less awkward this time. “Do you live with your grandmother, too?”
I was wearing a huge black sweater over baggy black pants. “No. I just… I don’t like people looking at me.”
“Yeah. I get that.”
He didn’t tell me that I was too pretty to dress the way I did; he didn’t say my body was too good to hide. He just went back to eating his orange, letting the juice spill all over the train shirt. We were fourteen, but I already knew Jack would always be the only thing that mattered in my future.

Playlist
Blue Rose Playlist Link

Trailer


Bio Sarah Daltry writes about the regular people who populate our lives. She's written works in various genres - romance, erotica, fantasy, horror. Genre isn't as important as telling a story about people and how their lives unfold. Sarah tends to focus on YA/NA characters but she's been known to shake it up. Most of her stories are about relationships - romantic, familial, friendly - because love and empathy are the foundation of life. It doesn't matter if the story is set in contemporary NY, historical Britain, or a fantasy world in the future - human beings are most interesting in the ways they interact with others. This is the principle behind all of Sarah's stories.
Sarah has spent most of her life in school, from her BA and MA in English and writing to teaching both at the high school and college level. She also loves studying art history and really anything because learning is fun.
When Sarah isn't writing, she tends to waste a lot of time checking Facebook for pictures of cats, shooting virtual zombies, and simply staring out the window.

Links
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Flowering Books
Forget Me Not | Lily of the Valley | Star of Bethlehem | Blue Rose

Coming Soon:  Orange Blossom & Ambrosia

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