Dating On The Dork Side

DATING ON THE DORK SIDE

by Charity Tahmaseb and Darcy Vance

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GENRE:  Contemporary Young Adult

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BLURB:

Stung by an epic betrayal, Camy Cavanaugh relies on the sure things: her best friend, her job as peer tutor, and her safe spot on the sidelines of life. But when she hacks into a secret, trash-talking website, it ignites a war between the sexes that won’t end until the whole school is turned upside down–and Camy’s world is turned inside out.

Now the hottest girls in school refuse to date the A-List boys. But with the Homecoming dance looming, everyone from the queen bee to the girl “most likely to” pushes Camy to hook them up with guys from the nerd herd.

And then there’s quarterback, A-lister–and former crush–Gavin Madison. He hasn’t spoken to Camy in three years … but he’s talking now, begging her to pair the guys on the football team with girls from the Honor Roll.

It’s a contest of wills and everything is on the line–even Camy’s heart. Will she retreat to the sidelines, or will she find the courage to get back in the game?

Excerpt:

I’ve had eleven years to think about this (twelve if you count kindergarten) and if you ask me, the first day of school should come with a checklist:

•           Your best guy friend manages to wear matching socks?

A good sign.

•           Your homeroom teacher turns out to be a drama king?

Proceed with caution; hilarity may ensue-- but so may humiliation.

•           You find a jock in the tutoring room?

A sign of the apocalypse.

On my last first day of school, I counted the minutes to the final bell, then took the stairs to the third floor tutoring room two at a time. I paused at the threshold and sucked in a breath.

The monitors inside the room, at least the ones that I could see, were spotless. I had new pencils sharpened to deadly points. My notebooks were filled with blank pages and promise. Everything was still first day fresh. Everything was still possible. And through the open windows, came the wondrous sounds of the Olympia High School football team warming up, “O-L-Y-M-P-I-A!”

“Switch!” Coach Cutter’s voice, amplified by the megaphone, rode the breeze through the windows. The trip seemed to soften all the hard edges, making him sound like someone you might actually want to talk to.

“O-L-Y-M-P-I-A!” the siren song came again. I loved it when jocks spelled. I loved the first day of school. I really, really loved my view of the football field from the windows of the tutoring room.

But Jason “The Ab” Abernathy was ruining all of it.

Author Info and Links:

Charity Tahmaseb has slung corn on the cob for Green Giant and jumped out of airplanes (but not at the same time). She spent twelve years as a Girl Scout and six in the Army; that she wore a green uniform for both may not be a coincidence. These days, she writes fiction (long and short) and works as a technical writer for a software company in St. Paul.

Her short speculative fiction has appeared in UFO Publishing’s Unidentified Funny Objects and Coffee anthologies, Flash Fiction Online and Cicada.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/charity.tahmaseb

Twitter: https://twitter.com/geekgirlx2

Blog: https://writingwrongs.wordpress.com

Mail list/newsletter: http://eepurl.com/RGffv

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/charitytahmaseb/

Darcy Vance is the slacker half of the author duo of Charity Tahmaseb and Darcy Vance. She didn’t start writing seriously until she was 40, and didn’t publish her first novel until she was 50. Even then, she needed a co-author to get the job done.

While Charity was busy slinging corn for Green Giant and jumping out of airplanes for the Army, Darcy was busy making out with boys and perfecting the art of the doodle. She only makes out with one boy now (her husband) but she still doodles wantonly.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/darcy.vance.3

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/edeevee/

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/DarcyVance  (there is a free story there)

Charity and Darcy will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to one randomly drawn winner, a print copy of "Dating on the Dork Side" to another randomly drawn winner (US/Canada only) and a print copy of "The Geek Girl's Guide to Cheerleading" to a third randomly drawn commenter (US/Canada only) via rafflecopter during the tour. Use the link below to enter.

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Ianthe

Title: Ianthe

Series: Fae Realm Series #1 

Author: Cathlin Shahriary

Genre: YA Fantasy

Release Date: October 31, 2015

Cover Designer: Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae

Ianthe Lola Grayson hasn’t always made the best decisions, but one night at a party changes everything. Haunted by nightmares of that night and fresh out of rehab, Lola is forced to spend the summer with her great aunt, whom she hasn’t seen in over 10 years. But her nightmares aren’t all that follow Lola to her Aunt’s house. Lola soon finds herself drawn to Conall, a mysterious Fae who appears at the edge of the woods and invades her dreams. Although she knows better, she just can’t seem to stay away from him. With Conall’s help, Lola starts to unravel the secrets left behind by her long dead mother, but what happens when those secrets change everything Lola has ever known?

 

 

As she strolled across the clearing, her eyes adjusted to the moonlight and her ears took in the sounds of the forest at night. Noisy insects created harmonies of their own music. A slight breeze rustled the leaves of the trees as her feet swished through the grass. She looked down frequently to make sure she didn't trip and hurt herself. She glanced up as she closed the distance to the oak but didn’t see her mysterious man. Disappointment burned in her throat like acid and she mentally kicked herself for being so stupid as to think he could possibly be real. She paused debating whether to continue on toward the oak or go back to the house and wallow in self-pity. In that moment the hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and her arms broke out in goose bumps. She could feel someone watching her from the woods. She took a few steps closer toward the old oak and softly called out, "Hello?"

"You came," his voice responded from the darkness, making her skin tingle. She snapped her elastic against her wrist, so wanting this moment to be real.

He appeared from amongst the shadows of the forest next to the tall oak. He was exactly as she pictured him in her dreams. His dark shoulder length hair was tied back into a loose ponytail. He was even wearing the same outfit—boots, leather pants, and a tight fitting shirt that showed off his muscles impeccably. He emanated danger, but somehow Lola was only soothed by his presence. She yearned to get closer and took a few more steps toward the tall oak. This time she could clearly see that his ears were indeed pointed. She followed the contours of his chiseled jaw and pointed nose toward his eyes that seemed to glow the green of newborn grass in spring. Her breath caught. Being up close to him literally took her breath away. She had never seen a man so gorgeous before. All those guys she thought were hot before couldn't hold a candle to him. She snapped her elastic more forcibly against her wrist, the pain ensuring that she indeed was awake and was not dreaming up the magnificent specimen standing in front of her. He glanced down toward her wrist as his lips tugged down into a scowl.

"Why do you hurt yourself?" He asked.

Lola opened her mouth, but no sound came out. It was suddenly dry. She closed her mouth and licked her lips hoping to make her voice work this time. His eyes tracked her every movement and seemed to darken when they settled on her glistening lips. "I, um, wanted to make sure you were real," she whispered. Wow, Lola, way to sound like an idiot. "I'm sorry. You… um… you just look exactly as I had imagined… as if I have dreamed you up," she quickly added. Oh, great, now you sound like the creepy stalker, Lola thought cringing inwardly. "The rubber band, um, helps me know what's real and focus in on the moment at hand." Whew. There, maybe that would be an acceptable answer.

His frown didn't ease, but he reached out and gently stroked her wrist where her elastic had left a red mark. "I don't like it," he stated simply. Lola just stared at his face, savoring the trail of heat that his thumb left with every pass over her wrist.

After a few moments she seemed to shake herself out of her hormone-induced stupor and yanked her hand out of his. She took a step back. "Okay, Spock, enough with the touchy feely. Who are you and why are you hanging out outside of my window?"

"Who is Spock?" He asked scrunching his eyebrows in confusion.

"You know, Spock... from Star Trek," Lola replied. She could tell he wasn't getting it as his brows still furrowed. "The one with the pointed ears," she held up her hand moving middle and pointer finger together as well as her ring finger and pinky. "You know, the ‘live long and prosper’ thing." He still looked confused, but Lola was at a loss for how to explain the connection further. "Okay... well you still didn't answer my questions."

"I am Conall," he replied, extending his hand for her to take. The instant she touched his skin again it was like she was drunk on his touch. She leaned forward and closed her eyes to the sensation. A sense of calm and rightness filled her bones as she took a deep breath. It came out as a breathy sigh. She felt a tug and realized that this time she was the creeper holding on too long. He removed his hand from her grasp and she instantly missed his touch.

Cathlin Shahriary lives in Dallas, Texas with her husband, surrounded by cats (two of which she calls her own) and a 75 pound pitbull puppy named Erwin. By day she is an elementary teacher, creating future book nerds and writers. By night (weekends and summer) she is an avid reader, fan girl, author stalker, cat foster, and writer.

She hopes that this book will be the first of many. You can follow Cathlin on Instagram and Twitter @cshahriary. If you wish to discuss all things Winchester/Supernatural, or see what she is fangirling over most recently, you can find her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/authorcshahriary .

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HOSTED BY:

Time Is Relative For A Knight Of Time

TIME IS RELATIVE FOR A KNIGHT OF TIME

by Brett Matthew Williams

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BLURB:

Meet Rolland Wright - a seventeen year old orphan living out of his car in rural Woodland Hills, California. Aside from grappling with the fact of being abandoned by his drunken father two years previous following his mothers mysterious murder, his life mostly revolves around finding a warm place to sleep at night. When one day he is attacked by men claiming to have killed his father, Rolland discovers a strange ability to slow the flow of time around him, beginning a journey that takes him to places outside of time, space, and eventually to the early 19th century to fight the sinister General Andrew Jackson. With the help of a rag-tag group of historical and mythical figures with various supernatural abilities of their own (Joan of Arc, Jesse James, etc) known as the Knights of Time, Rolland solves the mystery behind his mother's murder, falls in love, battles the evil Edward Vilthe - reaper of souls, and finds a home of his own in the paradise known as Eden.

          

The Time is Relative series chronicles the origin story of the mythical figure Father Time, beginning with the award winning first novel, Time is Relative for a Knight of Time. All dates and events are historically accurate. The participants... maybe not.

EXCERPT:

Fire quickly engulfed the limestone building that locals had come to call the White House, forcing the frantic women out the large front doors and into the wide-open marshland beyond the carefully manicured grounds. The night air hit Dolley’s skin with a damp unevenness that made every hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Looking over to Hannah, she saw her own terrified expression mirrored on the young girl’s face, watching as the girl gazed out into the darkness of the tree line. There, in the light of the blazing White House, stood a man so still the trees themselves surpassed him for movement.

The dark figure walked towards them, seemingly impervious to the chaos that surrounded the nation’s capital, the shadows and light from the inferno behind them dancing across him. As he neared, they saw that he was an older man with bits of silver streaking through the black mass of hair sitting atop his slim and polished frame.  He was dressed in a dark crimson sweater vest over a pressed long-sleeved button down shirt, and what looked to be crisp and freshly tailored pantaloons.

“Good evening, Lady Madison,” said the man, pausing for a moment to bow to her before continuing in their direction. His face was expressionless, eyes mimicking the darkness of the night around him. The man was not especially scary looking, especially in his elegant dressings. Still, there was an aura to him that spoke to the survival instincts within the two women, evoking impressions of jackals – sharp teeth, claws, and minds.

It was a muggy, humid morning when U.S. General Andrew Jackson woke to the sound of tribal horns. Immediately identifying their purpose, he quickly gathered both his wits and his pants, grabbing his sword and sidearm as he left his tent.

Known to be tough as hickory, Andrew Jackson was a moderately tall man for his time, standing at six feet, one inch. In this and in his military rank he was often compared to George Washington among elite society in Boston, Washington, and New York, despite his humble beginnings.

Jackson’s rigid demeanor was only matched by his sharp attention to detail. His crisply, pressed uniform was such that it demanded the attention of all the company’s men. Each stood at full attention, showing perfect respect for their commanding officer as Jackson made his way through the columns slowly, careful to catch each and every pair of eyes.

“Today we fight like dogs, and live like kings!” Jackson roared to his men, who cheered loudly in response. Their gusto and appreciation for their General’s bravery in the face of danger was not unnoticed by his adversaries on and off the battlefield.

A slave, brought directly from Africa on Jackson’s orders, walked Jackson’s horse to him around the hustle and bustle of preparing for the day’s campaign. A light rain began to fall on the heads and shoulders of every soul under the barely visible sun, uniting them in nature. They all felt the soft droplets as they landed on both white and brown skin alike. Lightning struck diagonally across the gray sky, followed shortly by an attention-stealing clap of thunder that rocked the previously dry Florida landscape.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Brett Matthew grew up with a passion for both film and history. He began his career fresh out of high school as a Production Assistant/ football player on NBC Universal’s television series Friday Night Lights (of which he can often be seen in the first two seasons as a member of the championship team – Go Panthers!). He quickly moved on to serve as an Original Series intern with the USA Network in Studio City, California. Following work on shows like Monk, Psych, and Burn Notice, Brett returned home to Texas to continue his education, graduating with his degree in History from Texas State University. A proud Master Freemason, Brett thoroughly enjoys fantasy fiction, watching Netflix, running, baseball, Shakespeare, and spending time with his family and critters.

Website: http://www.brettmatthewwilliams.com/

Twitter: @Time1sRelative

Blog: http://www.brettmatthewwilliams.com/blog/

Book on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Time-Relative-A-Knight/dp/1470029456/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1430360645&sr=8-1

Brett will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter. Use the link below to enter. You can find his schedule at http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2015/05/book-blast-time-is-relative-for-knight.html

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