Archives

Simulation by M. Black

Excerpt:

I hardly notice my attraction, but my fingers have nudged their way onto the platform as

my chin tucks over the wood, and my eyes fix on the Givers moving speedily to and fro as if I’m

watching a coveted movie, though none inside of Iliad are as good as this performance. Attention

is drawn to my fingers when Jez approaches from my side and taps his foot at my forefinger. “If

it isn’t the Princess Thief. Have you come to take more goods?”

I almost gasp. The guards had a strict talk with him about not speaking with me, and

letting me take what I want—and yet here he is. Not that I expect that I should be able to do

whatever I want, but I certainly don’t expect a Giver to not follow orders.

I stumble my words. “Wha? I…I’m not here for that,” I defend poorly.

“Then why are you here? Isn’t that what you Insiders do best? Take?” Jez’s voice cracks,

as if the word take weighs particularly heavy on him.

“I’m not here to take anything,” I say as my voice quivers, hands tremble, and my eyes

flit around for focus.

“Then why are you here?” His brazen tone makes me uneasy.

The question stops me. I can’t be at all sure why I came, why I insisted on seeing Jez.

Curiosity? Passion? I hardly know. I only know there is something about him—something

mysterious— something different from all the rest of the boys of Iliad. Maybe it’s because he’s

been Outside, seen the world. Maybe it’s because he must be so brave to do so.

His eyes dig deep into mine, waiting for an answer I can’t give. So, I answer a little

shakily, “I just wanted to see the inner workings of the Center of Citigog Goods.”

Jez stares briefly, a smirk sliding across his face—not believing a word. Then he says

snidely, “Curious how the other half lives?”

“Why do you keep attacking me?” I grit my teeth, my fingernails scratching the wood of

the platform, my head fixed upward at Jez, sun glares hurting my eyes. “What have I ever done

to you?” His audacity surprises me. I should be used to it by now. Every time I talk with him, he

has nothing but ridicule for me. Still, I can’t wrap my brain around his disgust. No one speaks to

the princess this way.

“Attacking you? You call a few words an attack?” Jez shakes his head and ruffles his

fingers through his hair, releasing a loud huff of disbelief.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I press, keeping my eyes locked on his. He isn’t going

to get away with it this time. Not without an explanation.

Jez pauses, his eyes searching me, and I can see questions circling his mind. “You really

don’t know.”

“Know what?” My brow quirks, and he draws all my attention. I wouldn’t notice now if a

Citiguard stood beside me.

“Anything,” Jez remarks, and I’m not sure if he’s just being smart or if he really cares

about my so-called ignorance.

“So, enlighten me, oh Giver of all.”

He squats so that we are eye to eye, and his smirk becomes more of a sadness, his color

more of a pale crème, but his hair engulfs him—his square face and broad shoulders—as it falls

to his chest. Then, I regret what I’ve just said. I feel I’ve hit him somewhere deep inside where

even I didn’t intend.

“You live in your perfect princess castle, with three meals a day, and everyone at your

beck and call. Safe from danger, and from the truth.” His head lowers, and he looks like he is

about to cry, before he takes a deep breath and his head rises. “I won’t be able to enlighten you

with anything but misery. I’m not a Giver. I’m a survivor.”

“Survivor of what?” I ask, not sure if he even heard me ask the question, because at that

moment the dark-skinned man with the buffalo tattoo pushes beside Jez and tugs on his shoulder.

“Get going, Jez. Your tribe can’t handle another reprimand.” Jez looks at the dark man

and nods before he pulls away from me and straightens up to return to the Box Carrier. As Jez

walks away from me, the dark man hawk-eyes me. “You’re nothing but trouble for us. Why

don’t you crawl back to your castle?” The corner of his mouth curls up as he turns back to Jez. I

stand there, alone, lingering in questions. Survivor? Aren’t we all survivors of CR? What tribe?

Safe from danger, the truth?

Everyone I come to for answers turns into another blockade, but I won’t let curiosities go

unsatisfied this time. Jez knows something, something my aunt and mom know as well,

something no one wants to tell me. I’ll watch him, and wait. He’ll lead me to what I want to

know. He just has to.

 


Simulation
M. Black
Genre: YA SyFy Dystopian
Publisher: Eloquent Enraptures Publishing
Date of Publication: DECEMBER 16th, 2016
ISBN: 978-1539194675   
ISBN-10: 1539194671
ASIN: B01N0QLPHH
Number of pages: 380
Word Count: 85,000
Cover Artist: M. Black
Book Description:
SIMULATION is a fictional novel and is the debut release from Dystopian Thriller author M. Black.
A YA SyFy dystopia, along the lines of City of Ember meets CW’s The 100. This story will capture your heart and still won’t let go even at the end. Written in part while listening to Outside by Ellie Goulding, this story contrasts technology to nature, rich to poor, privilege to hardship, and illusion to reality.
“No one is getting in but whom we allow, and no one is ever getting out.”
Set in 2175 in Colorado, USA, where Citigogs are the new form of cities and citizens are kept under a careful population control, we meet Ilia the Princess of our main Citigog named Iliad, and Jez a Giver. As Ilia spends more time with Jez, she finds herself drawn to the Outside and ventures out of her Citigog only to learn that everything is not what it seems.
Fans of the Divergent and Hunger Games series will revel in this story about a strong, but disillusioned heroine who must become brave as she uncovers the truth about her world.
About the Author:
M. Black is a pen name of Ami Blackwelder.
M. Black is her dystopia and thriller line of books. Rebecca May is the pen name for her historical and contemporary line of books. Ami Blackwelder writes paranormal and sci-fi novels.
Her stories range from Tween and YA to NA (new adult), but focus primarily on YA. Growing up in Florida, she graduated UCF and in 1997 received her BA in English and additional teaching credentials. Then she packed her bags and travelled overseas to teach in Thailand, Nepal, Tibet, China and Korea. Thailand is considered her second home now. She has always loved writing and wrote poems and short stores since childhood; however, her novels began when she was in Thailand in her early thirties.
Having won the Best Fiction Award from the University of Central Florida (Yes, The Blair Witch Project University), her short fiction From Joy We Come, Unto Joy We Return was published in the on campus literary magazine Cypress Dome and remains to this day in University libraries around the USA.
Later, she achieved the semi-finals in a Laurel Hemingway contest and published a few poems in the Thailand’s Expat magazine, and an article in the Thailand’s People newspaper. Additionally, she has published poetry in Korea’s AIM magazine, the American Poetic Monthly magazine and Twisted Dreams Magazine.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Cover Reveal: Just off the Path by Weston Sullivan

Just
off the Path

Weston
Sullivan
Genre: Fantasy
Publisher: Fire Quill Publishing
Cover Artist: Joemel Requeza and
Sandra Valente
Book Description:
Hansel never asked to be a hero.
He never wanted to fall in love with Rapunzel, Queen of the East. He didn’t ask
to be raised by Gothel the Wretch, and he certainly never wanted to be credited
for her arrest. But more than any of that, Hansel never wanted to lie: but he
did. He lied about everything. He thought that he was done with it all when he
and his sister Gretel retreated into the woods to reclaim their land, but he
should have known better.
Years later, Rapunzel’s guards
knock at his door, and they say the words he hoped that he would never hear:
Gothel has escaped. As he and Gretel take refuge inside Rapunzel’s castle in
the eastern capitol of Hildebrand, Hansel is thrust back into everything he
never wanted in the first place: his lies, his legend, and his lust. In the
wake of it all, he knows that Gothel has escaped to finish what she started. She
is out to make sure that the Sleeping Beauty never wakes, and that Grimm
suffocates under her blanket of thorn and vine. In order to find Gothel and
save the kingdom, Hansel and Gretel must look for fact in a land of fairy-tale
by following a trail of grisly murders, a girl in a red cape, and a powerful
little man who can’t stand the sound of his own name.
As they search for answers,
Hansel finds that he isn’t the only liar in Grimm, and that there may be a
traitor among them of royal proportion.
About
the Author:
Weston Sullivan lives and writes
in Tampa, Florida. He spends his days splitting time between writing, a full
time job, and studying for his degree in Creative Writing from the University
of South Florida. He enjoys everything related to storytelling, including film
and theater. He likes to read all genres, from contemporary fiction to classic
favorites such as Faulkner and Woolf. After he finishes his undergraduate
coursework and continues to build his career as an author, he plans to attend
graduate school in New York City.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Calling His Bluff by B.A. Tortuga

Excerpt:

The sheets were drenched, the world a violent place filled with tremors and waves of

agony. Patrick twisted, trying to drive himself up, away from the sea of bites that covered his

skin. He groaned when skeletal hands reached up from the depths to pull him back down. No. He

wouldn’t go back.

“Bébé. Bébé, you are a fighter, aren’t you? So strong.” The voice was soft, melodic,

welcome. It had a lilt to it that pleased him, soothed him.

“Sing to me?” That voice could draw him up.

“Oh, bébé. I haven’t been asked that in a long, long time.”

“Please.” He couldn’t see the face that went with the voice but he knew it. Hot golden

brown eyes, a strong jaw, wicked mouth. Hair like a raven’s wing. It made promises of things

that were simply phantasms, but the sounds… Oh. The voice began to sing, a simple French

lullaby, but so sweet. His tortured brain held onto the song, the melody a salve.

The grasping, bony hands clawing at him withdrew, and a kinder, warmer pair of hands

began stroking his skin with a cool, wet cloth.

“It will be better soon, bébé. Mark my words.”

“They’re trying to drown me. I won’t let them.” Not when he could stay here. “Don’t

stop.”

“You are safe from drowning, mark my words.”

“Am I?” He laughed, but the sound was dry as dust.

“I swear to you, by all I hold holy.”

Patrick opened his eyes, relieved to see the face matched his memory, blurry as it was.

“You’re Mister Remy.”

“Very good.”

“I don’t feel well. I feel awful and guilty somehow.” He felt as if he’d gone and done

something wicked and evil.

“Guilt is not for men like us, bébé. Let it be gone and you will feel better.” Remy stroked

the cool cloth over his burning skin again.

“Is it so easy?”

“No, but then again, it doesn’t need to be difficult, either.” The cloth disappeared, and

Remy held a glass of water to his lips. “If you practice, it becomes easier.”

The cool water eased him, splashed deep in his belly. He breathed deep for the first time

since he’d awakened. “Better.”

“It is.”

The cloths were changed, the cool rags making him gasp. He clenched and unclenched

his hands, trying to adjust.

“I know, bébé. I went through just this before I left San Francisco. Unlike you, I did it to

myself, no?”

“Why? Why would you?”

“I was feeling guilt. You see? Totally useless emotion.”

“Indeed. Guilt is…” He had so many reasons for it—Henry, Caroline, his father’s eternal

disappointment.

“We’ll work on it together. After you heal.”

“Soon? How long can this linger?”

“Not long.” Remy smiled, one hand resting on Patrick’s chest. “Not as strong as you are.”

A tingle made his muscles twitch and he pulled away from the wicked thoughts the dark

hand on his chest drew forth.

“Did I hurt?” Remy asked, concern clear.

“No. No.” No, that was a comfort, down deeper than skin.

“Ah, good.” Remy began to hum again, that voice smoothing over every rough nerve.

The peace made him blink, made his eyelids heavy. All he did now was sleep and dream,

but he was so tired. Remy was there watching over him.

“Be at ease, bébé.”

“You help.” The words popped out, and he tried not to worry about saying them.

“Good. I want to, hmm?”

“Thank you.” He blinked again and again, but couldn’t focus, so he finally let his lashes

fall since they were so heavy.

“Easy. Easy, bébé. Breathe.”

“Stay with me.” He shouldn’t ask, but he did. He needed Remy with him.

 


Calling His Bluff
Club Raven
Book One
B.A. Tortuga
Genre: Gay paranormal romance
Publisher: All Romance eBooks
Date of Publication:  1/1/2017
ISBN: 978-1-945193-92-7
Word Count: 50000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill         
Book Description:
Patrick’s loss is Remy’s gain.
A Club Raven Novel
After his twin dies in battle, it’s Patrick Daniels’ duty to marry his brother’s fiancée. Too bad he can’t make himself do it, and in his distress, he manifests a psychic talent that’s stronger than the tornadoes in his native East Texas. Then a mysterious man from a place called Club Raven steps in and sweeps Patrick off to the booming East Coast city of Baltimore.
Club Raven veteran Remy Blanchard sees Patrick and knows, even though Patrick is very ill, that this is the challenge he’s been waiting for. He nurses Patrick back to health, and begins to teach Patrick to control his talent. His methods might be unconventional, and Patrick might be new to the kinds of sexual games Remy knows best, but the two of them find something in each other that might be just as magical as the gentleman’s club where they meet.
About the Author:
Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy’s Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she’s not doing that, she’s writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting, and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA’s personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.
Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has heard the call of the high desert and lives in the Sandias. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.
For more information on other books by B.A., visit her official website:

a Rafflecopter giveaway